The trio of adventurers Hyperion had scared off earlier wasn’t having a great time. The leader, still nursing a bruised ego (and several cracked ribs from the golem incident), led his companions deeper into the dungeon in search of easier loot.

  “This is fine,” he insisted, though his voice trembled slightly. “We don’t need those two. We can handle this ourselves.”

  The burly woman carrying the chipped axe raised an eyebrow. “Can we, though? Because I’m pretty sure that shadow thing we ran from earlier is still following us.”

  The nervous mage whimpered. “I told you this was a bad idea! I told you we should’ve stayed back!”

  “Shut up!” the leader snapped. “We’ll find something valuable and get out. Just... stick together.”

  Unfortunately for them, “sticking together” didn’t help much when a massive serpent-like creature slithered out of the shadows, its glowing eyes locking onto the group.

  “Oh, no,” the mage whimpered.

  “Oh, yes,” the leader whispered, backing away slowly. “Run!”

  Miles and Hyperion were just wrapping up a minor skirmish with some rogue skeletons when the trio came crashing into their path, screaming like banshees.

  “Help! It’s going to eat us!” the leader shrieked, barreling straight into Hyperion and bouncing off like he’d hit a brick wall.

  Hyperion blinked. “You again? Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

  Miles frowned. “What are you guys doing here? Wait, no, let me guess. You didn’t listen, you found trouble, and now you want someone else to clean up your mess.”

  “Rolling for accuracy… Result: Natural 20. Nailed it.”

  The burly woman huffed, clutching her axe. “There’s a giant snake monster chasing us! Do you have time for snark right now?”

  “Always,” Miles said, crossing his arms. “It’s my best defense mechanism.”

  Before anyone could argue further, the serpent burst into view, its massive body coiling as it let out a deafening hiss. Hyperion sighed, drawing his sword.

  “You three, stay behind me. Miles, try not to trip on anything.”

  Miles scowled. “I’ll have you know I’ve been very stable for at least ten minutes.”

  “Rolling for stability… Result: 14. Adequate.”

  The fight that followed was predictably one-sided. Hyperion moved with blinding speed, slicing through the serpent’s tough scales while Miles darted around, doing his best to stay out of the way.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “System,” Miles whispered, “roll for whether I can actually contribute here.”

  “Rolling… Result: 9. You could provide moral support.”

  “Moral support? What am I, a cheerleader?”

  Hyperion, overhearing, smirked. “Hey, cheerleaders have value too. Now stop talking to yourself and grab that torch. Distract the snake.”

  Miles hesitated but did as he was told, waving the torch at the serpent’s face. To his surprise, it actually worked—the snake recoiled just enough for Hyperion to land a finishing blow, severing its head with one clean strike.

  The trio of adventurers stared, wide-eyed.

  “That... was amazing,” the mage whispered.

  “That... was terrifying,” Miles muttered.

  Hyperion sheathed his sword and turned to the trio. “You’re welcome. Now get out of here before you get yourselves killed.”

  The leader bristled. “We don’t need your help—”

  Hyperion raised an eyebrow, his expression flat. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure that thing was about to make you its appetizer.”

  The leader mumbled something unintelligible and slunk away, followed closely by his companions.

  Miles watched them go, shaking his head. “Some people never learn.”

  “Some people can’t afford to,” Hyperion said quietly.

  Miles glanced at him, confused by the sudden somber tone, but Hyperion quickly waved it off. “Come on. We’ve got a dungeon to finish.”

  As they continued deeper into the dungeon, Miles couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with his enigmatic companion. For all his flaws and mysteries, Hyperion wasn’t so bad.

  “Well,” Miles said aloud, “if nothing else, this is definitely the most interesting day I’ve had in a while.”

  “Rolling for understatement… Result: 15. Accurate.”

  ______

  The dungeon’s atmosphere became increasingly tense as the stone walls closed in and the flickering torches cast shadows that danced like malevolent spirits. Miles trudged behind Hyperion, muttering under his breath about how unfair life was when he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps.

  “Rolling for immediate danger,”“Result: 10. You’re moderately annoyed but not endangered. Yet.”

  Miles sighed, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, the same trio of adventurers they had just saved were trailing them, and not discreetly either. The leader’s shiny armor clinked with every step, the mage kept tripping over her robes, and the axe-wielding woman was munching loudly on a ration bar.

  “They’re following us, aren’t they?” Miles grumbled.

  Hyperion didn’t even glance back. “Yes.”

  “Well, can’t you just... I don’t know, scare them off again?”

  Hyperion shrugged. “What’s the point? They’re like stray cats. Ignore them long enough, and they’ll either wander off or self-destruct.”

  Miles rolled his eyes. “Great, so we’re babysitting three accidents waiting to happen.”

  The trio’s "expertise" became evident almost immediately.

  As the group moved deeper into the dungeon, Miles and Hyperion skillfully avoided a pressure plate in the floor. Naturally, the trio stepped on it with the precision of synchronized dancers.

  A hail of arrows shot out from the walls, narrowly missing Hyperion and embedding themselves directly into Miles’s path. One arrow grazed his arm, and he yelped.

  “What the heck?!” Miles shouted, clutching his arm. “Why is it always me?”

  “Rolling for probability of this being a coincidence,”“Result: 3. It’s definitely not.”

  “Not helpful!” Miles snapped.

  Hyperion raised an eyebrow, pausing to inspect the injury. “You’re fine. It’s just a scratch.”

  “That’s easy for you to say!” Miles whined. “You don’t have a trio of walking disasters behind you setting off every single trap!”

  As if on cue, the mage tripped over a loose stone, landing face-first on another trigger. This time, spikes shot up from the floor. Hyperion sidestepped them effortlessly, but Miles wasn’t so lucky—his boot got caught on one, sending him sprawling into a shallow pit.

  Hyperion peered down at him. “You okay?”

  Miles glared up at him. “Do I okay?!”

  “Rolling for emotional resilience,”“Result: 5. Try not to cry.”

  Miles groaned.