Orith leaned against the airship’s railing, gazing at the decimated ruins below. “How do you think the earlier expeditions to this moon missed this dungeon?” she mused aloud. “Nyxoria has been one of V?luspá’s moons for what, three thousand years? Four thousand?”

  “Not sure,” Einarr replied, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “The empire’s usually right thorough with nabbin’ all the cores of new moons after a convergence.”

  “I’ll see to it that Anlyth is held responsible for this oversight as well,” Orith said, shaking her head in disgust. “Can’t stand that bitch, and that man she was with—General Ezad—he was no better. I still can’t believe they tried to hide a dungeon core from the empire, then lied to our faces about it.”

  “It would’ve been right daft if they’d gotten away with it. The Ascended would’ve sent us to obliterate their little kingdom once they found out—no hidin’ a core, typically, ‘cept this one,” Einarr chuckled, then his ughter abruptly stopped as he cocked his head, alert to the odd sound.

  The wooden railing creaked and splintered beneath Orith’s nails as she watched bursts of green fmes sweep over the cshing forces below. More frustratingly, these fmes were allowing their enemies to retreat further into the dungeon.

  In a fit of rage, Orith leaped from the side of the airship, plummeting downward. Her magic enveloped her in a streak of fire, forming like a protective star to cushion her nding. She struck the terrain with one knee bent, her front leg extended, and her arms swept back in a dramatic arc—reminiscent of a martial artist poised to strike. Holding her ready stance, her fming eyes swiftly scanned the surroundings as soldiers continued to rain down around her, each encased in a blue bubble of ethereal getinous cubes. Just as she began to rise, a loud crash erupted beside her, sending a shower of rocks and dust billowing into the air.

  With a click of her tongue, Orith gave the dwarf an annoyed gre. “Must you do that? Couldn’t you manipute gravity to nd like a feather instead?”

  “Aye,” was Einarr’s simple reply, his voice ced with mirth as he fshed her a mischievous, shit-eating grin.

  The dwarf casually strolled out of his crater, his massive hammer slung over his shoulder, looking up at the much taller woman with a twinkle in his eye. However, his gaze didn’t quite reach Orith’s face, as he was momentarily distracted by her impressive bosom—a stark contrast to the more modest endowments of dwarven women, which, in his opinion, often resembled those of a plumper male dwarf. Yet, the absence of facial hair did nothing to diminish her beauty; in fact, Einarr had developed a preference for smooth-faced women—a secret he guarded closely. He knew full well the shame it would bring among his kin. Still, he doubted any of them would dare voice such a thing to a champion, not without risking being turned to paste beneath his hammer.

  “Whatever you’re daydreaming about while staring at my chest, knock it off. We need to focus on these vampires and whoever’s fending off our soldiers with... what is that?” Orith peered at the green fmes. “Necrotic fme?” she scoffed. “Our primary goal is now to retrieve the dungeon core, above all else. I don’t care about the Sethian Kingdom or this pathetic moon.”

  Einarr let out an awkward cough and reluctantly dragged his gaze away from his fellow champion’s lustrous bust.

  “Aye,” he nodded, quickly shifting his attention back to the matter at hand.

  ~

  I was sughtering these soldiers effortlessly, ughing maniacally all the while. Sure, I wasn’t as badass as Aurelia out in the open, facing an entire army. But here, within the cover of this destroyed fortress, ambushing everyone I found, I was having way too much fun. Though my ambushes might have gone smoother if I hadn’t been ughing so much. But in my defense, the ughter was drawing in more idiots to sughter.

  A whooshing sound came from behind; I ducked just in time, feeling the breeze of a sword swishing overhead. As I twisted around, I faced a snarling woman cd in a metal bikini, her skirt more akin to long drapes—or mudfps—that cascaded down to her ankles. Despite the outfit’s inherent allure, her fierce, rabid-dog expression stripped away any hint of sexiness.

  Channeling my inner wannabe kung fu master, I struck a funky pose, using both arms to thrust her away, creating some unnecessary distance. It wasn’t needed, but I was having too much fun to pass up, savoring the moment. She stumbled backward, my passive skills already ravaging her body. She fell to the ground, her eyes wide with panic, paralyzed by my touch.

  Oh, how I love the terror.

  In slow motion, I raised a hand to my face, clutching my chin as though it were the mask it truly was—yes, I know I should consider the silk as my actual flesh to make casting it subconsciously easier, but it doesn’t always work—and pulled my face away, revealing a dark, gooey skull with white teeth and glowing orange eyes beneath. Had she not been paralyzed by my touch, I’m sure she would have screamed.

  I reattached my face as I sashayed over to her crumpled form, a bck miasma leaking from beneath my dress like a cruel, bewitching fog. It enveloped her, coating her flesh in blisters that oozed pus and blood as it sinisterly ascended her body. My attention shifted when a bst of golden light and crimson fmes erupted down one of the corridors in my direct line of sight.

  A vampire, afme, ran screaming through it. Worse still, I could feel the heat radiating toward me as I stood over the fallen figure—a wannabe Sve Leia in her skimpy outfit. I’d call it armor, but let’s be real.

  Um... me no likey fire.

  Yep. I’ve distracted the enemy long enough for everyone to escape to the dungeon city below, right?

  If not, fuck them, I’m out of here!

  With that final thought bzing through my mind, I shot off into the shadows of the ruins, sprinting toward the depths of Ockpool Dungeon—completely forgetting about the bikini-cd beldonna I was about to sughter. Taking on a fire caster? Ha, not my thing! But I knew a sexy vampire who could snuff ’em out... unless, of course, she was still tied up messing with that wormhole spell of hers.

  Hm... I could always have that me-dick, needle-toothed prick Jason handle them, right?

  I mean, why not? He’s a champion.

  Turns out, I wasn’t the only one making a mad dash into the depths of the dungeon—everyone who had been fighting was now squeezing down the narrow stairwell into the dungeon city. I could’ve moved faster if I’d shed out at everyone blocking my way, but they were... allies. Ugh, hate that word. He-he. I could’ve also cut through the main portion of the dungeon to get to the city, but it seemed the dungeon had ramped up the difficulty after being restored. Can’t really bme it—it probably doesn’t want someone pulling that stunt again.

  Wait... are dungeons sentient?

  Entering the city, I groaned as I noticed a line forming outside the temple they had for the core. My shoulders slumped for a long moment, but then I saw it was at least moving, which meant Aurelia had successfully cast the spell. Not wasting any time, I took off into the temple, ignoring the yelling and bitching about cutting lines as I desperately searched for Aurelia.

  Relief washed over me as I found her near the portal, her focus still on maintaining it. Her eyes were closed, and beads of sweat rolled down her brow as vampires, beastkin, and dungeon denizens streamed through.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I was tempted to say fuck it and just shove her sexy ass through the portal, dooming everyone else here. But I was pretty sure Aurelia—no, Aislinn—wouldn’t be very happy with me. Unlike everyone else in existence—you included—I actually cared what she thought of me.

  A loud explosion echoed throughout the cavern, shaking the temple we were in. Screams erupted from the potential meals—um, I mean, the crowd of escapees... or are they refugees? Whatever they were now—as panic set in. Everyone started pushing and shoving their way toward the portal. A few were knocked over and trampled, but I didn’t pay them any mind as I sighed, realizing I needed to stall for more time for Aislinn’s sake.

  “Please, no fire,” I groaned softly.

  Ugh, caring for others is hard.

  Stepping outside the temple, I was just in time to witness another explosion. The staircase that led into Ockpool erupted in a massive bst, turning stone into molten rock that spttered across the city. As the opening expanded, soldiers poured into the city, fanning out with two figures at the center—a woman and a dwarf—casually walking as if everyone and everything was beneath them.

  “Archers!” came a bellowing, squeaky voice beside me.

  Gncing to my side, I noticed the old warg, his hand held high while his other gripped his staff. Looking behind me, I saw that the top of the temple was lined with archers and casters. He dropped his arm, issuing the command, and a barrage of arrows and spells flew through the air towards the invading army.

  “This is going to be fun,” Jason decred as he stepped out from a shadow, cracking his neck. His eyes met mine, a deep frown crossed his face, and then he stepped back into the shadow, disappearing.

  He’s not scared of me, is he?

  I might have smiled as I gnced back at the army, taking cover behind buildings. Explosions of all kinds—ice, fire, lightning, among others I didn’t recognize—rained down around them. Arrows, seemingly enchanted with simir effects, joined the bombardment.

  “We don’t need to win,” the old warg murmured beside me, “we just need to stall them a bit longer.”

  I happily nodded, gleefully watching the destruction unfold. I was smiling until the woman in the red-scaled dress lifted her arm, and then all I knew was pain.