Nick Vandran

LORD OF MONSTERS

1

“Don’t stop. Oh gods, don’t stop!”

Those words were the sweetest Keaton had ever heard. Said in a gasp, the woman beneath him made breathless by his fierce, desperate pounding, it only spurred him on. He was so close, but he wanted to make sure she got there first. He’d always been a considerate lover, and he didn’t plan to stop being one now.

Especially not when the woman whose nails were currently biting into his back was her. Elena. The woman he loved. The woman he’d fought so hard for, considering she barely even noticed he was alive at first.

He had her now, though, and he was about to make her come for the third time tonight.

Keaton pounded harder, angling his thrusts so his cock rubbed against her clit even as her needy pussy fluttered around him, gripping his shaft and practically demanding he spill into her.

Not yet…

He gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut despite how badly he wanted to see her face as she came. Her breath hitched, a sweet, keening moan following soon after, and Keaton finally opened his eyes. Her beautiful face was flushed, her long eyelashes sweeping down over her cheeks, lips parted in the perfect “o.” She arched upward, her full, round breasts pressing against his sweat-slick chest. And all throughout, her tight pussy contracted around him, begging for his cum.

Maybe they could have a child. He’d never thought about being a father before, but Elena would make an excellent mother. Sure, there were things they needed to figure out, yet the idea of it brought him closer and closer to that edge. He rocked into her, his thighs burning, balls aching with the need for release.

He was so, so close…

“Wh-what are you doing?” Elena huffed. “Hurry up and pull out, we can’t—”

The crack of splintering wood shattered their private moment, the heavy door flung so hard against the stone wall that its hinges loosened in protest. Keaton froze, ice running through his veins as he looked up and into the dark, murderous eyes of Lord Belmont.

Elena’s husband.

“Oh, fuck,” he hissed out, his urgent need to come now replaced by a need to preserve his own life.

Elena was quicker to act than Keaton himself. For such a small and proper thing, she had a surprising amount of strength in her as she shoved him off.

“Nathaniel, darling, I can explain!” She grabbed for the sheet, pulling it about herself. “This wastrel stole into my bedchamber, pinned me down, and told me that if I dared to scream, he would kill the children!”

Keaton’s head spun. Wastrel? Pinned down? She’d invited him up; told him her husband was away and would be gone for several days. She’d said, and he could confidently quote her on it, “Come here and put that thick cock of yours to work.”

The most distressing thing — aside from the large, muscle-bound man rushing toward him — was that she’d said children. Elena didn’t have children. Children required actually sleeping with her husband, which she’d said she hadn’t done since their wedding night, when it’d been required of her. She told him her husband was a cruel man who preferred the company of whores. That she feared bringing children into the world because he might hurt them the way he hurt her.

She’d told him a lot of things, and Keaton was beginning to realize that most of those things weren’t true. Especially since she hadn’t even looked at him since her husband stormed in.

“Do what you must, my love. I will endure the sight of violence if it needs to be done.”

And that. Gods a-fucking-bove.

His heart hurt terribly, his veins still running with ice water, the shards of it digging into him without mercy. But Keaton didn’t have time to think about how he’d been played or just what kind of pathetic idiot he was this week. Lord Belmont had retrieved a flail and seemed intent on smashing his skull into tiny, brain-spattered pieces.

As Keaton rushed the window — the only possible escape route — Lord Belmont let out an inhuman sound of rage and swung the flail hard. The mace’s spikes slammed into the stone and stuck, buying him a few precious seconds. Keaton threw open the shutters and leapt for the roof, knowing from experience that it wasn’t a very deep slant. He’d scaled it enough times to be intimately familiar.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered just how cold it was outside. Elena’s bedchamber bordered on hot, between the crackling fire and the exertion. It was a shock to his system as Keaton, bare-assed, scrambled out onto the roof.

He should have grabbed his pants. Should have remembered that it was freezing out. Should have been smart enough to recognize Elena was just bored and lonely and leading him on this whole time.

Above all else, he should have realized the roof was slick with ice. One wrong move was all it took, and suddenly Keaton’s legs were cut out from under him. His ass hit the edge of the roof, hard enough for him to cry out. Then he slid, and no amount of twisting and scrabbling was enough to save him.

Time seemed to slow, making him all too aware of his fall. It took an eternity to reach the ground, but when he did, every inch of his body felt the impact of hard-packed ice and snow. The wind was knocked from him, his back, ass, and legs numb as he stared up at the gray sky.

You fucking idiot. Why would you think this time could be different?

Just a few moments. He’d allow himself a few moments to grieve, then he’d pick up the shattered pieces of his pride and disappear for a while. Maybe skip town to avoid Lord Belmont’s wrath altogether.

Keaton closed his eyes and let out a ragged sigh.

When he opened them again, he was staring into the faces of several city guards.

2

Everything hurt.

It probably didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He was sitting on straw that was scattered across the cold stone floor, the stench of piss and vomit thick in the air. He’d been given clothing, even if the incredibly loose tunic felt like wearing a burlap sack. His feet were still bare and in danger of being nibbled by the bolder rats that scurried about, and, as was made clear by the throb of agony that lanced through him, every muscle in his body fucking hurt. He was also pretty sure he’d broken a bone in his ass.

Not that any of that held a candle to the fact that he was probably going to rot in this cell for the rest of his life. His mother — cruel, bitter hag that she was — had been right: He was a worthless shit stain on society.

His head thunked back against the wall, the pain of that action barely reaching him. He needed to figure out how he was going to get himself out of here. He was, by some accounts, a certified scoundrel. He’d spent so much of his life on the streets, scavenging and stealing to get by. This was just another puzzle to solve.

One he’d solve after he was done feeling sorry for himself. Sorry and angry. He’d thought Elena was it. The one, whatever that meant. The person he’d spend the rest of his life with. Sure, her husband had always been an issue, but they’d made plans to run away together once she was able to hide enough funds.

He’d been such an idiot. She’d just said whatever he wanted to hear so he’d keep fucking her. All while she just laid there. That was the worst part of this. He’d convinced himself the sex had been amazing, but it was just her body that was amazing. He might as well have been fucking a straw-filled dummy for all the passion she had.

“Hey. Bud. You awake.”

A weaselly voice called from beyond the wall, close to where he rested his head. For a second, he wondered if he’d already lost his mind and one of the rats was talking to him, but no. That voice was human.

Keaton remained quiet.

“Guards are saying you’re in here because Lord Belmont wants you in here. Not a good place to be, my friend. Not a good place to be.”

He couldn’t help responding to that, his teeth gritting. “Yeah. I know.”

The man let out a low whistle. “That’s rough, bud. I’m sorry to hear it. I’ve seen Lady Belmont — not up close, mind, but enough to see why a man might lose his mind. I gotta say, doesn’t matter how nice they are: There’s no pair of tits in the world nice enough for this shit.”

A good point, but ultimately meaningless. His stupidity in the face of a nice pair of tits had landed him here. That and a string of occasions where life had decided to kick him square in the balls, then spit in his face when he sank to his knees.

“What can we do, though?” He could almost hear the other man shrug. “I let myself get bewitched, too. Lost a good woman over it. Not the prettiest thing, but kind. Real good mother. I threw it all away, and you know what? I paid the price.”

Keaton’s jaw set and he bit his tongue, forcing himself to stay quiet. He realized it made him a hypocrite, but he had no sympathy for a man cheating on his wife. Especially when that wife was the mother of his children.

“She kept me out of trouble too, she did. But I wasn’t ever happy with any of it. Kept wanting more, no matter what I had. Played my hand against the gods, and, well. The gods always win, don’t they?”

“Seems that way,” Keaton finally said, allowing himself to wallow in the bitterness for just a little while longer.

His “companion” kept talking, going on and on about his wife, his kids, and the misadventures he’d had after he lost them. It was hard to sympathize, considering the man had absolutely created his own situation, but Keaton did his best to at least keep from being outright hostile.

Hours passed with no other sounds of significance, though he strained to hear them. Just the distant drip of water, the crackle of flame burning down torch tallow, and the constant drone of his fellow prisoner’s voice.

It was predictable enough that when Keaton closed his eyes, he briefly drifted off to sleep, only to be awoken by that harsh, rodent-like voice once more.

“Oi! You haven’t fallen asleep on me, have you? Wish I could sleep. I—”

Keaton’s fingers curled against his palm, nails digging crescents into his flesh. He opened his mouth to snap at the man, but something else caught his attention: Heavy boots coming down the nearby stairs, the light of a carried torch casting long shadows against the wall.

Keaton sprang to his feet, ignoring the ache in his muscles as he made his way to the bars. The iron was cold in his grip, his fingers closing around it.

“Get back!” the guard warned, pulling out what looked like a fireplace poker.

He rammed it through the bars, jabbing Keaton in the ribs with it. Keaton groaned and staggered back, clutching his side, pain radiating through his torso.

“I’m only down here because, by law, I have to offer you the services of a priest if you want them. Worthless soul like yours is beyond saving, but rules is rules.”

As if to punctuate exactly how he felt about the situation, the guard hocked up a wad of phlegm and saliva, spitting it past the bars. It splattered at Keaton’s feet.

“What?” he asked, ignoring the disgusting glob. “Why would I need a priest?”

The guard let out a short grunt of a laugh, sounding almost like a pig. It would have been comical, if not for the gravity of his words.

“Because you’re scheduled to hang tomorrow.”

3

Scheduled to hang tomorrow.

The words rattled around in his head long after the guard had left. They danced about mockingly, reminding him that he had no weapon, no armor, and no plan to get out of this place, nor was he capable of thinking of one. Keaton was numb for hours after that admission.

He’d said nothing when the guard asked him if he wanted a priest, too stunned to process. No priest was ever sent, and Keaton was glad for it. He didn’t need to contemplate the fate of his immortal soul — not when he was still trying to figure out his more immediate fate.

How had sleeping with a lord’s wife led to him being hanged?

Rotting in the dungeon for the rest of his life, sure. Being paraded naked in the square, chains about his neck, a red sinner’s cloth draped over his shoulders, yes, maybe that could be deemed acceptable in some circles. If Lord Belmont pressed his influence enough, Keaton could even see having his balls squeezed in a vice until they were shriveled and useless, depriving him of the ability to ever have children — and making sex a painful and humiliating experience from that moment on.

But hanged? That seemed excessive, to the point where he almost wondered if they were just fucking with him; trying to scare him straight.

He doubted that, though. He didn’t have that kind of luck, and it seemed Elena was telling the truth about one thing: Her husband was a cruel son of a bitch.

“Real tough break there, bud. You hate to see that, don’t you?”

The rat had been blessedly silent — or Keaton had just been able to ignore him — since the guard left.

“Sometimes I wonder if I was supposed to be hanged. I think maybe they decided my neck wasn’t worth the rope. Or maybe thought it wouldn’t snap right? My mum always said I had a fat neck, heh. Could be they just—”

“Shut up!” Keaton roared, taking his head into his hands. “Please, just shut. Up.”

There was a long pause, during which Keaton actually had the grace to feel a little guilty. That feeling faded when the man spoke again.

“Alright, friend, you don’t have to shout it. Could’ve just asked nicely,” the rat said, sounding genuinely bothered by his rudeness. “Course, you are about to die, so I guess it doesn’t—”

Keaton closed his eyes, drew in a long breath, and just tuned the man out. After a while he’d either become an expert in it, or his companion had finally gotten the message and lapsed into silence. Keaton wasn’t about to question it. Instead he settled onto the scratchy straw and the cold stone floor, staring up at the half-crumbling ceiling.

He just needed to think. There was a way out of this. There had to be. He’d gotten out of bad situations before, after all. He’d been doing that his whole life. If nothing else, Keaton was resilient. Much like the beetles that skittered about in the darkness, he hadn’t let himself be crushed under the weight of the many booted feet that tried to stomp on him.

Granted, none of those boots had ever belonged to an executioner…

He bit back a groan of frustration, his heart racing with sudden panic. What if he couldn’t manage it? What if the law had simply caught up to him, as his mother always said it would?

What if he deserved this?

“Oh, come now. Surely you don’t think you deserve to hang for sticking your cock into a woman you loved. Even if she was a manipulative cunt.”

The voice seemed to exist in the space around him, caressing his senses with husky undertones that made goosebumps ripple across his arms. Keaton peered through the gloom of the cell and at first saw nothing. His only indication that something had changed was the strange scent of cardamom that wafted into the space. For several moments, nothing changed. Then suddenly his vision was filled with a brilliant white light that hurt to behold. His eyes watered from the strain of it if he even tried, and he was forced to shield them.

The light took shape, forming into a silhouetted figure with wide hips and thick thighs that was currently striding toward him without any sense of urgency. Keaton looked past the figure, then listened to hear his companion on the other side, to see if anyone else was seeing this. There were no guards in the hall, though, and no sound beyond the wall of his cell.

I’ve finally lost it. I’m having some kind of mental breakdown.

Keaton heard the clucking of a tongue against the roof of a mouth. The figure stopped, settling into a pose that was the approximation of hands resting on hips. The bright light began to fade, giving way to something easier to behold, yet no less stunning.

Before him stood the single most beautiful woman Keaton had ever seen. Honey blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose ringlets, her heart-shaped face, snub nose, and almond-shaped cerulean eyes giving her a look of innocence.

It was almost certainly a lie, negated by the seductive way she strode toward him. Large, voluptuous breasts bouncing, her rosy nipples pert and begging to be sucked. Wide hips swung with confidence, tapering only slightly to creamy thighs he wouldn’t mind burying his face between. Especially when — every now and again — he caught a glimpse of glistening pink pussy lips beneath a neat dusting of blonde curls.

Her entire figure was surrounded by an almost ethereal glow, only adding to the perfection of flawless skin. It was obvious to Keaton that she wasn’t real. No real woman looked like that, and no real woman would have just appeared in his cell without him noticing.

“What’s the matter, darling?” she purred. “Having trouble trusting your eyes? Here, let me make it easier on you.”

She stood over him, giving Keaton an even better view from below. Then, without hesitation, she lowered herself down, very real, very warm hands on his shoulders as she settled her knees against the floor, straddling his waist.

His cock twitched, straining against her, though Keaton was otherwise frozen. This couldn’t be real. He was just dreaming. One last, pleasant dream before he was hanged. That was all it was.

A very realistic dream akin to some kind of twisted self-torture, because she soon scooted back, the smooth curve of her ass rubbing over his cock before he felt the wet heat of her pussy as her lips dragged over the shaft. Keaton sucked in a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling back in his head. Every muscle tensed as he tried to deny his instinct to buck against her; he only partially succeeded.

“Almost there,” she said, that voice like warm honey pouring over him.

She scooted just far enough back that she wasn’t straddled directly above him, then moved her body in such tight, controlled gyrations that Keaton was mesmerized. Her tits swayed, her abdominal muscles clenched, her thighs strained, and she ground her pussy against him, covering his cock in her juices.

It wasn’t a dream. But it wasn’t reality, either. Keaton didn’t know what it was, only that his body was suddenly desperate. All he wanted in the world was to sink inside of her until she was flush with him.

His hand reached behind him, seeking purchase that just wasn’t there. Instead his blunted nails scraped against unyielding stone. He bit his tongue but was unable to completely quiet the groan that left him.

“There are… guards,” he managed, panting. “Someone in the cell right next to us. People who will hear.”

It felt like such a weak protest. This woman had come from nowhere, completely naked, her beauty far beyond anything reasonable. And yet his only objection was that someone might hear.

“Then I suppose you’d better stay quiet.”

She continued to grind against him, the friction constant, her inhuman gaze never leaving his. Keaton was transfixed. Both hands went to her hips, gripping ample flesh, though he didn’t try to guide her. He wasn’t sure he even could.

Tension built in his body, stored up like rushing water pounding against a dam that was at its capacity. He was so, so close to breaking, and he wanted it; needed it. Just as his muscles began to tense, just as that anticipation reached its peak…

She drew away from him.

4

It was a shock to the system akin to dunking his head into ice cold water. Keaton grit his teeth, his jaw held so rigid that a flash of pain shot through it, all in effort to keep from screaming in frustration.

“You’re a daemon,” he practically spat, the word seeming to coat his mouth with an offensive, bitter film.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t pieced it together before. Her beauty was too unnatural, her ethereal glow just a trick of the nether plane. And of course she’d initiated their meeting with the promise of sex. Daemons did whatever it took to get their way, and for Keaton, that apparently meant appealing to his base instincts.

He couldn’t help being disgusted with himself.

“You didn’t seem to mind my nature just a second ago,” she purred, long lashes sweeping down over her cheeks, bee-stung lips curving into a coy smile.

“Leave,” he ground out, pulling his dirty, rat-gnawed tunic over his lower body. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re offering.”

“Oh? You’d rather hang, then?”

Instead of pushing up to her feet like a normal person, she began to float off the ground. An unsettled shiver wound itself through Keaton, his erection — so demanding just moments ago — softening.

“If the alternative is eternal service to one of your kind? Yeah, I’d rather hang.”

Keaton rubbed his hands over his arms, goosebumps remaining on his skin. There was something about the magical energy she put off that wasn’t meant to be experienced by humans. Not for long periods of time.

“Eternal service? Is that what you think I require of you?” her giggle was deceptively girlish. “Oh, my dear, sweet boy. As tempting as that sounds, I have no need of your eternal service unless it’s willing.”

Her gaze slowly swept down his body, lingering on his now-covered crotch. Keaton felt the urge to cover himself up even more and hated the fact that his cock twitched at her regard.

“Then what do you want?” he kept his voice quiet, unsure if his neighbor was able to hear any of this.

“I simply need you to remove a pest from my life.” She looked down at her nails, then buffed them against her chest as if she was actually wearing clothing. “A lord who reneged on a deal with me. That is all.”

“’Remove a pest?’ Speak plainly.”

Agitation rose in him, his body frustrated from being denied the chance to come, his mind frustrated by the fact that he’d fallen for the wiles of yet another person who just wanted to use him.

“Oh, very well. You humans can be so barbaric sometimes.” She scrunched her snub nose. “I want you to kill him. Slit his throat, make him choke on his own bile, gut him as if you are dressing a deer — is that plain enough for you, Keaton?”

Another shudder rippled over him, disgust making his stomach roil right along with it.

“Not going to happen. I’m not going to be your personal debt settler.”

“That implies long time work, and this is merely one job. One job for your freedom.”

The part of him that wanted desperately to live couldn’t just dismiss her out of hand. He had no other plan, and a daemon likely had the power to make good on her claims, even if he still doubted her somewhat. But that desire for self-preservation of the body warred with his need to preserve his spirit.

“I don’t do that anymore,” he said quietly, not looking at her.

“But you have. And you were good at it. Very good.”

Keaton drew in a breath, his eyes closing. He had been very good. One of the best, operating in the shadows without anyone ever knowing his true identity. It’d been easy money, granting him clout with certain organizations and a clear path to progress in life.

At the expense of others.

Years ago, he’d weighed out the cost and decided it wasn’t worth it. He’d gone back to a life spent scrimping and scraping just to get by, inspired in part by his love for Elena.

And what did it get you? Your morals are about to leave you swinging at the end of a hangman’s noose.

“Your kind are notorious for finding the loopholes in any arrangement and exploiting them. How do I know you won’t just send someone after me once I do what you want? How do I even know you have the power to help me now?”

“If my kind exploit loopholes it is only because your kind are terrible at making verbal contracts.” She flashed him a grin, her mouth full of small, pointy teeth. Keaton shuddered again. “As to the last question…”

She disappeared from his view, suddenly reappearing in the hall. When she spoke again, her voice was meek; the perfect approximation of a serving girl.

“Guardsman Donnelly?” she called in a simpering tone. “I… I was hoping we could speak.”

Keaton’s eyes widened as the sound of footsteps grew closer. To know that man by name and to draw him over had to mean something significant, a fact he only confirmed soon after.

“Ana? What are you doing down here? It’ll be taken out of my hide if someone catches y—”

His words were cut off in a wet “hrk” sound, everything happening in the blink of an eye. The daemon had suddenly reappeared behind his bars, grabbed the guard as he walked past, pulled him against the cell door, and began choking him with an iron grip.

What is happening?!

The world was spinning around him, threatening to spin right out of control, but Keaton hadn’t made it this far in life without knowing how to seize opportunities as they came his way. While she kept the man in a choke hold, Keaton looked for the telltale flash of metal. A ring of keys danged from his belt and he lunged for it—

Just as another guard came upon them.

“Hey! You sack of shit; I’ll end you right now.”

The guard who’d been held against the bars fell to the ground in a coughing heap, clutching at his throat. The daemon was nowhere to be found, leaving Keaton alone with a guard who had drawn a long, curved dagger from his belt. The man moved to wrench the cell open, murder in his eyes.

“Time to make a choice, darling,” the daemon said, her voice suddenly at his ear, sweeping around him. “Die here like a worthless wretch, or do one, simple job for me and become more powerful than you’ve ever imagined.”

Even discounting that last bit — an offer she hadn’t even mentioned before now — Keaton knew he had no choice. That was the way of daemons. No matter how aware you are, by their very nature they found a way to reach you at your worst and either trick you into complying or leave you no other choice but to comply.

In the end, she’d chosen to force his hand.

And Keaton complied.

“I’ll do it,” he growled, a pulse of self-hatred seeming to infect his very soul.

He scrambled backward to avoid the lunging guard, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. Keaton had the brief thought that she might just have been fucking with him for her own amusement, but just as the dagger threatened to slice open an artery, the guard disappeared.

And so did everything else, as Keaton lost track of his conscious surroundings.

5

When Keaton became aware of his own existence again — of his body taking up space on the physical plane, his breathing quiet but rushed, his heart still pounding — a sudden fear struck him.

He couldn’t see. There was only darkness around him, with nothing to distinguish it from anywhere else. Thrusting a hand out into it, he connected with a hard wall, ice flooding his veins. Had she taken his sight from him? Was this another cruel way to twist the knife and watch him squirm?

But no. As time passed and his senses caught up to his new location — his stomach still protesting what had obviously been some kind of teleportation — he realized he could see, the light was just practically non-existent. The slightest, distant glow turned black to gray, making him aware of the fact that he was in a passage, surrounded on either side by thick, solid walls, a low ceiling above him. The smell of earth and distant water made him realize he was underground, and his mind began to fill in other details. Lichen growing on the cave wall, the grooves from centuries of erosion, the slightest glint of some precious mineral that hadn’t been extracted yet.

And the sound of someone coming.

Clumsy, pattering footsteps on natural flooring. Two figures, one of them skinny, one much larger. As they grew closer, the stench that filled the cave was nearly unbearable, the scent of rotten meat, stale piss, and rancid ale a potent cocktail that nearly made him retch.

Goblins.

As a lifelong city dweller, he thankfully hadn’t had many run-ins with goblins, but one trip out into the woods with his friends had been enough to tell him that was a good thing. They’d been forced to flee from the sheer numbers alone, and to this day Keaton remembered that awful smell — so terrible and so thick he could taste it.

He remembered thinking at the time that it seemed impossible there should be so many goblins. What kind of creature could ever stand to be close to that long enough for the cycle of reproduction to happen?

It was a thought he didn’t linger on, now or then. They were coming close, reaching a junction in the cave’s pathways. Keaton moved in the other direction, his eyes having adjusted enough that he was able to find a chamber that had been carved out of the passageway. He ducked inside, pressing flat against the wall as the two passed.

“He puny for dungeon lord,” one of them said in a high, scratchy voice.

The other’s was deeper, booming against the cave walls. “Humans know magic. Idiot. Don’t need to be strong.”

Dissent in the ranks? Maybe just the dumb ones, because the other had a point. He who had the magic had control of basically everything. It might not have been as powerful as currency itself, but it was a surefire way to get currency, and usually by force. Keaton had always envied those with any sort of magical ability — he’d never been able to pick it up, and so even when he was at his best, he’d been less than some of the other assassins.

If the guy they were talking about was his target, he needed to be careful. Most spells had either a verbal component, or one that required signing certain symbols into the air. If he could figure out which, he could make a plan of attack, and—

Gods, it was eerie just how quickly he fell back into the pattern of killing. It made his skin crawl, and again Keaton felt the prickle of gooseflesh ripple across his arms. A signal he was beginning to associate with the daemon.

If she was around, she didn’t make herself known. Keaton just continued to feel on edge, making the most of his restless energy by searching the chamber he’d found himself in. It seemed like nothing had been done with it yet, aside from turning it into some sort of storage room. There were crates and sacks piled in one corner, with a single chest tilted against a rock.

Silently, Keaton made his way to that chest and lifted the lid, wincing when it creaked. He held his breath and listened, but no one came, giving him the chance to look down at the bounty he’d uncovered.

Only to find a bent, rusty dagger.

Picking it up, he went to tuck it into his belt only to realize he wasn’t wearing a belt. Or pants. He searched for something to wear, and for a better weapon, but found neither.

So I get to kill some random asshole while my cock’s just swinging in the wind. Fantastic.

He would have laughed at how ridiculous it was if he wasn’t still keenly aware of the quagmire he’d landed himself in. Daemons never offered straightforward deals. There was some catch to this, and the presence of goblins already hinted at one.

This wasn’t just some normal guy. It wasn’t even a noble in the common sense of the title. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, he’d been sent to assassinate a dungeon lord.

Keaton didn’t even know if that was possible. He’d fortunately never had the occasion to meet one face to face, since only people who could tap into Anima needed access to the ley lines dungeon lords presided over. There’d been one time where someone offered to pay him a laughably small sum of money to risk his neck by scavenging inside a dungeon lord’s lair, but he’d known better even then.

Dungeon lords and the monsters that served them were nothing to fuck with. Even if he didn’t know much more about them beyond that, it was enough. Yet here was, bare-ass naked, about to try and take one down on his own.

Maybe that was the entirety of the trick. She’d plucked him out of boiling water only to dump him straight into a lake made of lava.

He could run. Try and find a way out. But if she’d sent him to kill another guy who’d backed out of their deal — a dungeon lord, no less — what lengths would she go to for his sake? Keaton didn’t want to think about the dismal odds. He needed more information, then he could decide.

With his poor excuse for a dagger tucked into his palm, he carefully made his way into the hall, following the low flicker of light that denoted a larger chamber. The goblins had moved on, though their stench remained. Keaton had to swallow a wave of bile that rose high in his throat not once, but twice. Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t wearing actual clothing — he’d definitely have to burn it after this.

Shadows began to dance along the walls, flowing with the draft that blew through the tunnel. There were torches nearby, and he continued toward them, stopping at the edge of the hall where it opened to a large, central chamber.

“Do understand that you are expendable. Should you disobey me, displease me, or in any way fall below my expectations, I will not hesitate to dispose of you.”

The voice sent an icy chill down Keaton’s spine. It was pure malice; evil made manifest. Each syllable raked over him, sparking a mix of both fear and anger. He’d never had such a strong reaction to anyone before, even people he rightfully hated. But this man…

From his position, Keaton was able to see a throne carved out of stone, small creatures with twisting horns and long, lashing tails building it out of what seemed like nothing. It rose above the room’s few other features, including some large stalagmites that were clustered around a small pool of water, a crevice from above dripping into it. His attention turned there first as the most obvious place to hide.

He wasn’t currently in danger of being seen where he was, so he took a few extra moments to take stock of the rest of the room, leaning out just enough to see. The biggest draw in the cavern — and the thing that was giving off the most light in its own right — was a large red crystal that pulsed almost like a heartbeat. It was chained across its center, those chains holding it in midair between the ceiling and the floor. If Keaton strained, he was able to hear a low hum of energy resonating from it; an almost captivating note, though it was just a single sound.

Not captivating enough to keep him from moving on, though, his gaze finally finding the source of that voice.

The man wasn’t what Keaton would call “puny,” but he supposed by the standards of a goblin he might be. He was tall and slender, his robes falling like silk over a wiry form. Small skulls adorned his belt, a mantle of bones settled on his shoulders, a crown of twisting horns atop his head. His face was made only of severe lines, long hair drawn back, a snarl practically etched into his features.

Well, he certainly looks the part.

“Answer me, girl. Tell me you understand.”

The rattle of chains drew Keaton’s attention. The dungeon lord yanked hard, that one tug enough to send whoever was attached to that chain to the ground.

Keaton wasn’t sure just what he expected to find on the other end of it, but the woman who just managed to catch herself before falling completely to the floor was not one of them.

There was no mistaking her for a normal human woman. Even as far back as Keaton was, as strange an angle as he had to view her from, it was obvious. Her body had the same shape as a woman — arms currently braced on the ground, knees tucked beneath her, her figure on full display thanks to the fact that she was only wearing two scraps of clothing.

Keaton’s attention wasn’t drawn to those features, though. Instead his eyes widened as he took in the small horns in a nest of tangled white hair, the patches of shimmering silver scales that covered part of her body, the silver wings that looked too small for her by half, the bones fused strangely and held close to her back, and the thick, silver tail that curled around her almost protectively.

A dragonkin?

He’d never seen one in person. Very few people ever had, and those that did rarely lived to tell the tale. They were reclusive creatures, living their entire lives in caves like this one. The last remnants of powerful, intelligent creatures that had long ago died out, though it was said they had far more in common with their draconic ancestors than humans.

The skeptic in him hadn’t even truly believed they were real. The logistics of a dragon ever having children with a human was… not something Keaton cared to think about. But here she was in the flesh, stunning in her beauty, yet…

Broken. Chained at the ankles and wrists, with a thicker manacle around her neck. That was the one the dungeon lord currently controlled, the chain connected to it wrapped tightly around his hand.

“Y-yes, Master,” she managed, her voice sweet, but a touch hoarse, as if she needed a drink of water to soothe her throat. “I understand.”

A dragonkin serving a dungeon lord? Were they really that powerful, or was there something else going on? Looking at her wings again, Keaton’s brow furrowed. They didn’t look like they worked at all, and it was hard not to wonder if they’d been broken.

If she’d been broken. He had his answer soon after.

“Anything I want, you will do. Any way I wish to use you, you will not fight me.”

He reached down to grope one of her breasts and Keaton felt bile well in his throat, along with a burning rage that sparked to life in his belly. It caught into a full blaze as she choked back a sob, burning out of control when the dungeon lord backhanded her, the impression of his hand red and angry across her cheek and jaw.

“Stop your whining, girl. It’s unattractive.”

There were times when Keaton felt guilty over killing his marks; when their morality had been as ambiguous as his own, their hopes and dreams just as real and relevant. But this man was pure evil, and he felt no such worries over the thought of killing him.

In fact, he reveled in it, a dark glee bubbling up from someplace Keaton thought he’d long ago buried.

Slipping into the chamber, he stuck to the shadows and crept behind the cluster of stalagmites. The dungeon lord’s back was to him, and it took little effort for him to make his way to that stone seat. He crouched behind it, the little imp creatures continuing to work as if he wasn’t even there.

Lucky for you. They could have sounded the alarm…

A mistake made by eagerness, but one he wouldn’t repeat. Keaton regulated his breathing, all his senses tuned to what the dungeon lord was doing and where his attention was focused. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and Keaton swore he could hear the rhythmic rush of blood; the dungeon lord’s heartbeat.

Soon it would cease, and he would relish that silence; relish the blood on his dagger, the last, sputtering gasps of a man who didn’t deserve to live.

“Ah, I knew you were the perfect choice. Quite the savage killer, aren’t you?”

The daemon’s voice flowed around and through him and Keaton gripped his dagger more tightly, biting down to avoid letting out a sound of surprise. He ignored her, preparing to do the task he was sent here to do, but she spoke again.

“I’m afraid the normal way of doing things won’t be enough here, darling. That crystal protects him.”

Keaton’s gaze moved to the pulsating crystal. Of course, that was why it seemed like a heartbeat. It was connected to the dungeon lord’s.

“You must strike the core and poison it with your own life force. Only then will you be able to kill him.”

6

The moment those words reached him, every shred of Keaton’s common sense told him it was a terrible idea. That crystal was obviously magical, and who knew what attacking it would do? Maybe if he was any kind of a Manipulator he’d have half a chance of understanding and controlling it, but the best Keaton could do was to literally just stab the thing and try to shatter it. What was that even going to accomplish? Would the energy spew out into the cave like toxic sludge? Would it disintegrate him the moment it flowed over the floor?

And none of that was even mentioning the fact that the daemon wanted him to use his life force. There was something deeply wrong about all of this, just as he knew there would be. But if the crystal was protecting the dungeon lord, what choice did he have? There was no way to kill him in the traditional sense. He had to be weakened, and for that Keaton had to destroy the crystal.

Can she really do worse to me than whatever’s going to happen when I touch that crystal…?

The answer came like an ethereal whisper on the wind. “You know the answer to that, darling.”

Keaton felt ghostly fingers caress his face and he shuddered. He was getting the impression that this assassination was the least vile thing she was capable of doing to those who backed out on her deals; practically a mercy killing.

He truly had no choice. He’d known that, but some part of him still bucked against it. For all the problems in his life, he’d always had free will; had always been in control of his own destiny. Now he was just… what? A puppet on this daemon’s string?

It sure seemed that way.

Drawing in a breath, Keaton squared his shoulders and considered the dagger in his hand. Life force. He wasn’t a Manipulator, so the only way he knew to access his “life force” was through his blood. That should count, right? Without blood in his body, he wouldn’t live. Unless life force was something used to create life, but there wasn’t a force in the world that would convince him that was a good idea right now.

So he lifted the rusty dagger and cringed as he drew the edge of the blade across his palm, closing his fingers around it. Warmth seeped from beneath the heel of his palm, the coppery scent of blood fresh in the air. The pain was sharp, like fire licking across his nerves, but only at that spot, and only when he applied pressure. Once he let off, the pain mostly subsided.

Lifting the dagger, he looked at his handiwork. It was coated in his blood now, red making its way into every little crevice. There was something darkly fascinating about it, but he wasn’t here to admire the tool of his own destruction. He was just here to use it.

Creeping out from behind the stalagmites, Keaton kept his eyes on the dungeon lord. He almost didn’t notice the way the dragonkin’s eyes widened. Lifting a finger to his lips, he jerked his head toward the crystal, hoping this man didn’t have her so under his thumb that she’d warn him.

But she looked away, attention returning to her captor, and Keaton crossed the last stretch of cave to reach the crystal.

The moment he stepped into range of its aura, he felt it. There was something so ominous, so menacing about it, his stomach dropping all the way to his feet. Yet it also felt incredibly… empowering. It beckoned him closer, leaving Keaton momentarily transfixed.

“You’re losing time,” a voice hissed in his ear, far less sweet than what he’d heard from the daemon previously.

Gritting his teeth and gripping hard around the hilt of the bloodied dagger with both hands, he plunged it into the crystal.

That first shatter of the glass-like surface was expected. Reflexively his muscles jumped, urging him backward, yet Keaton couldn’t move. He was frozen there, stuck with his blade driven into the beating heart of the crystal.

And it was a beating heart. Encased in the hard outer shell was a fleshy mass that writhed in time with a human pulse. The flesh squelched as his dagger sank into it, blood spraying upward to speckle across his face and chest, gradually building up a layer that stained his skin and tunic crimson.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

Keaton couldn’t pull away as the “heart” beat faster, then was still. He let out the breath he’d been holding, drawing back. The deed was done, yet before he was completely free of the crystal, he felt something start to surge through him; some inexplicable force that caused his own heart to beat with an echo before that second thump joined the first.

Any time he might have had to wonder what was happening to him was interrupted by an angry, fearful voice.

“You will pay for that,” the dungeon lord snarled. “Guards! Seize this man immediately!”

Words Keaton had heard many times in his life. Words he’d always been smart enough to answer by beating a fast retreat. The job wasn’t done, though. He still needed to kill the dungeon lord, which meant running just wasn’t an option.

Shaking out the tension from his shoulders, Keaton stood to his full height and faced the man. Even now his hand was still wrapped around the chain binding the dragonkin, and that was enough to fuel Keaton’s righteous fury. It pulsed through him, activating groups of muscle he’d honed over the years, that burst of adrenaline making him feel as invincible as a first shot of high-quality spirits.

He could probably kill this man before the guards arrived, yet even that didn’t seem to be cause for concern. The dungeon lord looked around frantically, but no guards came. In fact, Keaton couldn’t even hear the distant sound of feet thumping against the cave floor.

Had they sensed the change in the wind that quickly? Tough break for this dungeon lord, if so, but Keaton didn’t make a habit of feeling bad for assholes.

He strode toward the dungeon lord with a confidence he rarely felt in face-to-face conflicts. The hand holding the dagger practically itched to use it, as if the weapon itself was eager to taste more blood. Considering where he’d found it, he wouldn’t doubt that. He’d have to burn or bury the thing after this. Maybe both.

Of course, the dungeon lord wasn’t simply a bystander to his own demise, though that would’ve made Keaton’s life easier. He finally cast his pet aside and lifted that strange, gauntlet-clad hand, his fingers appearing almost skeletal as he wove magic through the air, pulling at the strands of Anima Keaton could only assume were all around them.

The magic coalesced into a winding black coil, one end of it fashioned into the head of a viper, its eyes glowing a vibrant purple, mouth open and shadowy fangs extended. Keaton could practically see the venom dripping from them, even though it wasn’t an actual snake. It certainly did coil around the dungeon lord’s glove like one, though, hissing before it darted toward him swifter than Keaton could even comprehend.

Apparently, some instinctual part of him knew what to do, though. He leapt out of the way just in time, a burning sensation sizzling across the skin of his right arm. Keaton drew in a breath with a hiss, but recovered quickly enough, his dagger lashing out to bite just as the snake had intended to do to him, with about the same effect. He barely grazed the dungeon lord, the lithe man darting to the side.

Recovering from his strike, Keaton wheeled around to face his target, only to find himself face first with a blast of black and purple energy flung from the center of the dungeon lord’s outstretched palm. There was nothing he could do but turn to the side and try not to take the brunt of it.

If that scalding graze had hurt, this full-on blast was shear agony. The impact of it was painful enough, pain searing up and down his right side, but the residual effect was far worse. It felt as if someone had poured molten hot steel onto his bare skin, allowing it to melt inside his body before hardening. Keaton couldn’t help the pained, almost animalistic sound that sprang from him, and it was all he could do to keep standing as a wave of darkness crashed over his consciousness, begging him to pass out so he wouldn’t be subjected to this pain any longer.

Keaton pushed through it, his teeth gritting hard enough that he wasn’t sure he hadn’t cracked one. With a fierce yell, he hurled himself toward the dungeon lord, ducking under the lashing shadow-snake. One knee dropped to the ground to lend him some stability as he drove the dagger upward, just beneath the man’s ribs. He wrenched upward, hearing the satisfying crack, not in the frame of mind to wonder at the sudden surge of strength.

It must have surprised even the dungeon lord because he staggered from the blow, giving Keaton the chance to get to his feet, yank the dagger out with a gush of blood, then plunge it back into the man’s chest, sinking the gnarled blade into his heart. Every part of it — from the resistance of clothing and skin to the feeling of a living organ being pierced — reminded him of the crystal, only this time blood didn’t spray outward, blasting him with every pump.

The heart just quivered beneath him, fluttering wildly until it began to slow more and more. That, too, was morbidly fascinating to Keaton. He’d never enjoyed killing, and he couldn’t say he enjoyed it now — his stomach was in knots, an urge to vomit rising in the back of his throat.

But there was something uniquely powerful about watching this man’s life drain away; of feeling his heart try and fail to keep up with the demands his body was making.

The dungeon lord looked at him with pure malevolence, a wet chuckle sending spittle and blood into Keaton’s face. “She’ll do the same to you. Enjoy this while you can.”

There was no question which “she” the man was speaking of. Keaton let go of the dagger, not wanting to touch it any further; not wanting to be a part of this. The dungeon lord fell to his knees first, then slumped to the ground. Keaton wasn’t far behind, the world around him spinning as he sank to his own knees. He didn’t feel right. Everything was moving too fast, disparate thoughts crowding into his mind, restless energy pooling in his limbs so severely he thought they might just burst.

And his heart…

His heart was pounding like a war drum; a constant thump thump thump thump he couldn’t ignore. It echoed again, more violently this time, the sound of it filling his consciousness. He couldn’t breathe, hand clawing at his throat, at his chest in a desperate bid just to live.

Was this the cost? Was he going to spend his last few moments frantic, tortured by how fragile his mortality was until he shit himself with fear? He closed his eyes so tightly a shock of pain skittered across his face. It was probably in his head. He just needed to breathe, calm down, and get a hold of himself.

The moment he thought it, words appeared in his mind. Pulled out of thin air and scrawled into his consciousness as if they were written across the backs of his eyelids.

The Labyrinth has reverted to its natural state.

The Labyrinth is now level 0.

7

He was losing whatever fragile grip he’d had on his sanity. There was something about this place, that crystal, that was determined to make his last few moments agony. If Keaton had believed in any of the gods, he would have dropped to his knees and prayed. But even if the gods were listening, none would answer someone like him. A criminal. A liar and cheat who’d done whatever it took to get by.

An idiot who’d decided to make an agreement with a daemon.

Maybe that was the start of his madness and this was just the logical conclusion: Keaton doubled over, holding his head as words continued to scrawl across his mind, searing into his retinas like the after image of the sun.

The Labyrinth currently holds 1 functional room: Crystal Chamber.

The Labyrinth is currently home to 0 minions.

You have bonded with 0 lieutenants.

Your current power level is 0.

“What is this?” Keaton asked aloud, the question coming out in more of a howl than anything else.

Great. His madness was going to seep into everything around him, too. At least he only had one witness.

Swinging his head around, he sought out the dragonkin woman. She was still bound, trying desperately to break the chains on her own. When she caught him watching her, she backed away, pushing herself across the floor.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” he pleaded, a touch of fear lacing through his voice. “As soon as I killed that dungeon lord I—”

The dragonkin pushed herself to her feet, stumbling once as she tried to run with irons clapped around her ankles, the heavy cuffs joined by chain.

“Hey, wait! At least let me—”

Of course, Keaton’s first thought had been a selfish one. It took him seeing her in obvious distress to even offer to break those chains. It didn’t matter, though. She was hobbling away from him as fast as she could. Her damaged wings fluttered, attempting to work, but ultimately just made a sad display that he was sure had once been beautiful, elegant, and strong.

He didn’t try to stop her. What was he even going to say? I know I just killed this guy who’d done nothing to me, but in my defense, he was a really bad guy. And a daemon told me to.

No, that wasn’t going to fly, which brought about another complication. If he managed to get out of here, what then? Dungeon lords had minions, and minions followed without question. Were assassins going to follow him out of here and murder him in his sleep? Poison his food so he choked on his own tongue?

That was at least better than whatever he’d just experienced. Even if the words were gone, their memory wasn’t and never would be. He’d end up on the street, blabbing on about the mysterious texts only he could see. He’d—

“Oh, stop being so dramatic, darling,” a familiar voice soothed, “you’re giving me an awful headache.”

The daemon. Keaton whirled around to find her perched atop the crystal, thighs open, sex on full display. For once, he didn’t feel even the slightest spark of desire.

“What’s happening to me? I can see words. Talking about levels and something called The Labyrinth and—”

He stopped, the mention of “levels” resonating within him, reaching some vague knowledge he’d locked down deep in his memory. It wasn’t something he’d ever needed to call upon, so Keaton hadn’t thought about it since learning such things.

“There you are. Use that sharp mind of yours and I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she taunted, her laugh sounding at once like the melodic tinkling of bells… and the scrape of someone’s fingernail against glass.

Keaton thought back to the brief stint he’d spent in school. When he’d grown up, the king had instituted a law saying all orphans needed to receive at least five years of schooling so they could grow up to be productive members of society. Meaning, of course, that they’d been taught what they needed to know to work in a mine or die on the front lines of a fight that wasn’t theirs.

For a brief time, though, Keaton had been placed in a class of wonders. A class where he’d been taught about Anima and the systems that governed its usage. He’d been told about the levels of advancement for one’s personal self as well as the powers they commanded.

He’d also been told that advanced manipulators of Anima were able to commune with Anima itself, seeing information right before their eyes as if reading it from a book.

Keaton drew in a sharp breath. “But I’m not a Manipulator. I’m not even sensitive to Anima. I was put in those classes by mistake.”

“You humans have such restrictive views of who can and cannot use Anima, and how they can use it.” The daemon shook her head. “Did you never find it strange that you almost always knew the perfect marks? That you could tell when someone was just vulnerable enough to be swindled out of their hard-earned coin? That you knew which heartstrings to tug so that you could endear yourself to others and stay alive that much longer?”

“That’s just instinct,” he protested, not liking the way she laid his tactics out before him. “Street smarts.”

“Call it whatever you like, but your ability to interact with Anima is not new. You’re simply able to channel it into something a bit more strategic now.”

It made no sense, and yet when Keaton thought about it… maybe it was more than just luck. Maybe he could comprehend the systems of Anima after all. But why was he being given information about…

“The Labyrinth is the name of this place,” he said, feeling like an idiot for not realizing that sooner. “But I still don’t understand. How can I see all of this information? The dungeon’s level, the number of minions…”

“Did you not feel the transfer of energy from the crystal to you? The siphoning of life force from the previous dungeon lord? You humans truly are as infants with these things, I swear.”

She draped herself over the crystal in a way that might have been comical were the situation not so dire, her plump lips pursed in a pretty pout.

“I felt… something…”

Keaton had never considered himself to be stupid. There were some concepts he had a hard time understanding, but he wasn’t stupid, and when he allowed himself to think logically, the answer was easy to find.

“I’m… I’m the new lord of this dungeon. That’s… that can’t be right. I didn’t—”

Didn’t what, exactly? Sign a contract? Shake on a deal? He’d killed the old dungeon lord. He’d fed the crystal his own blood. He’d done everything the daemon had told him to do and—

“You tricked me,” he growled out, gripping the blood-stained dagger as if it would be any help against a daemon.

She looked completely unfazed, even going so far as to roll her eyes at him. “Oh, yes. I tricked you into a lucrative career path. A new life where you can be more powerful than you’ve ever dreamed.”

“A life as a dungeon lord,” he hissed, an icy chill settling over him as reality began to take hold. “Someone who enslaves people. Tortures, maims, kills just for the joy of it. Someone evil!”

The daemon scoffed at that. “I see your poor understanding of Anima is rivaled by your idiotic perception of morality. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given what they teach your kind.” She sighed, then spoke slowly, as if explaining herself to a child. “All I have given you is a tool. What you choose to do with that tool is up to you. A stonemason can choose to build a shelter for the infirm, or he can choose to build a prison to hold those who are not of his kind. Your morality dictates which of those is ‘good,’ and yet in both cases, he uses the same tools to get there. Do you understand, Keaton?”

His choice. He’d never really had a choice before. The idea of stealing only from the rich, of choosing only the marks who deserved it was nice in theory. It made him feel better about himself. But the reality was that those with fat purses would always pass on their losses to the people they controlled. Vassals, tenants, subjects they ruled over. Taxes would increase to make up for the paltry sum he’d taken, and good people would suffer regardless.

Keaton had always done his best within the confines of the system that ruled his life. He’d broken mostly even in terms of morality, but there’d never really been a meaningful choice. Rob one man or rob another. Pick one tavern to cheat dice within or pick another. Choices, but ultimately not ones that had any impact on his life.

The only meaningful choice he’d ever made was to pursue Elena; to try and make himself a better man for her sake. And the memory of how that turned out left a bitter taste in Keaton’s mouth.

Could he actually be in control of his own destiny? Could he make a better life for his own sake, not someone else’s? Was it really possible to use the tools a dungeon lord was provided to make something he could live with?

“Those are the questions, hm?” The daemon smiled playfully at him. “I’m afraid I cannot answer any of them, darling. What I can say is that you are not bound to this dungeon. You can leave as you wish, so there’s no risk in seeing what comes of it…”

If he could walk away, leave all this behind with no consequences, then maybe there was no harm in it. He didn’t have to be evil just because he was a dungeon lord, right? No one was going to control what he did. He was the one in command of this entire dungeon now. He could fill it with helpful spaces — spaces built for people like him who were just trying to get by.

And maybe having a little bit of power and control over his life was appealing. The peace he’d found with Elena was just an illusion, but this didn’t depend on someone else. All of it rested squarely on his shoulders.

His destiny. His choice.

It sounded too good to be true, and Keaton had learned enough life lessons to know that it likely was.

“What’s the catch,” he asked, directing a hard gaze up toward the daemon.

“The catch?” she lifted a hand to her ample breast, long, curved nails almost seeming to cradle the flesh. “I’ve given you this great gift, and you think—”

“Don’t bullshit me. A daemon’s ‘gift’ always comes with a catch, so what is it?”

“Oh, very well.” She slunk down from the crystal like a cat sliding off a bed, then stretched in such a leisurely way that Keaton felt an urge to yawn. “The ‘catch’ is just that I have a vested interest in your rise to power, my lord.” A suggestive smile graced her lips as she approached him, running one of those long fingernails down his chest. “And a hope that you will one day scratch my back as I’ve scratched yours.”

“So I owe you a debt.”

“Call it that if you wish. I prefer to see it as a favor for a favor.”

Keaton hated being indebted to anyone. He’d always tried to avoid it, no matter the cost. There were already so many situations where he was powerless — he didn’t need to feel that way with anyone else.

And yet…

What was left for him in Valfast? The guards would be on high alert and the local authorities would likely be notified. Elena’s husband might have even taken the matter to the Crown. He couldn’t show his face anywhere near the capital, and that meant starting over with nothing.

Why not start over someplace where literally no one knew him? He could build a new version of himself here from the ground up; be whatever he wished to be. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and those had to be worth any cost.

He looked over at the crystal, its shimmering surface seeming to call to him with a low hum.

“Fine. I agree to your terms.”

“I knew you were a smart one,” she said, reaching up to caress his face with those inhuman nails. Keaton turned away from her. “Now, do you see that gauntlet?”

He looked in the direction she indicated, finding the scorch marks where the dungeon lord had once been. His body was gone, disappearing without Keaton even realizing it. Only the gauntlet he wore remained, the gnarled creation black as night and detailed to look like a semi-skeletal hand.

“Put that on and touch the crystal. Then sit upon the throne and accept your new position… Dungeon Lord Keaton.”

8

Keaton approached the gauntlet with suspicion, the relic looking every bit as evil as he assumed a dungeon lord’s equipment would. He’d heard tale of cursed items that afflicted their owner with all manner of awful thing, but he hadn’t really believed it. Everything — even an inanimate object — was linked to Anima, but Anima itself was a purely neutral force. It was what people did with it that made it bad or good.

Same tool, different outcome.

With that in mind — and because he’d already gotten himself in this deep — Keaton bent to retrieve the gauntlet. Some part of him still braced for the worst, despite his skepticism. A lifetime of living around superstitious people would do that to a person.

Nothing happened, though. There was no burning sensation licking flames up his arm. His fingers didn’t begin to black and decay before his eyes. He didn’t suddenly feel a maniacal, homicidal urge to rush out and kill the first innocent he saw.

The only thing that registered was surprise at just how light the gauntlet was. It looked like solid obsidian carved away to reveal pearlstone beneath. By that reasoning, Keaton should have barely been able to lift it, but it was easy to hoist off the ground and examine.

When he did, more words scrawled across his consciousness.

The Lord’s Hand

This item, when worn by an attuned dungeon lord, allows the wearer to interact directly with the Dungeon Crystal.

At least the daemon hadn’t been lying about that. He glanced back to the crystal only to find her gone, the scent of cardamom that clung to her now absent from the chamber.

It was as much a comfort as it was something liable to throw Keaton into another panic. He focused on the former, though, and undid the straps of the gauntlet, fitting it over his forearm.

Looking at it on the ground, he hadn’t been sure it would fit. The old dungeon lord’s arms were more toned than his, and they looked a bit shorter than Keaton’s, as well. But the moment he secured the straps and tightened the gauntlet, it reformed to fit him perfectly.

Again he waited, and again nothing terrible happened. He flexed his fingers, watching how the encased pearlstone glimmered in the firelight, truly looking for all the world like a skeletal hand. It was a little disconcerting, but Keaton imagined he’d get used to it in time.

Moving over to the crystal, he hesitated just a moment before lifting his hand. Like last time, he felt something surge into him from the crystal. Only unlike before, it wasn’t overwhelming his senses; pounding through his veins like a desperate rush of blood.

It spread across the gauntlet, channeling into the metal where Keaton watched a pulse of red energy dance across the obsidian surface, scattering like diffuse light at the edges before it was gone completely.

That was… an experience. I don’t feel more powerful, though—

Before he’d even completed the thought, Keaton felt his consciousness being pulled away from his body. Darkness crept in, seeping inward from the corners, and for once he didn’t panic. Body, mind, and spirit all seemed to be in a stasis, suspended in time.

Slowly that darkness filled with a rough hexagonal shape, a glowing red circle at its center, a black square toward the top. It took him a moment to realize he was seeing a simplified version of this very room from above, with a large expanse of hazy gray radiating outward from that chamber before meeting black.

Current Location: Crystal Chamber

Chamber Strength: 40/100

Minions Present: 0

Lieutenants Present: 0

Current Resource Production: 0

Current Resource Drain: 0

The words appeared over what Keaton realized was a map. They lingered only as long as it took for him to read them, then faded away. A surge of excitement broke through his conscious mind. There was so much he could see now; so much information just here for him to use as he wished.

The question was, what did it mean? And what did he do with it?

The daemon was gone, and Keaton didn’t want to rely on her “advice” any more than he had to. The only person who might have known had run off in a bid for the freedom she’d obviously been denied, so it was on him to figure it out.

First thing was first: He needed to see what he was working with this.

“Where’s the rest of the dungeon?” he asked aloud, hoping that might work.

His view of the map shifted, panning across the gray areas. Keaton squinted, trying to see past the fog that clouded the map, but it was impossible.

“Why can’t I see the rest of it? Where are the other chambers?”

Active Chambers: 1

Inactive Chambers: 9

Inactive? How could a chamber be active or inactive? Maybe it had to do with the crystal’s reach, but it seemed strange that he couldn’t at least see the rest of this cave. He’d ducked into a room on his way here. That should be active, right?

The crystal’s Anima didn’t seem inclined to answer questions so much as display relevant information, though, so Keaton decided to poke around until he stumbled on something useful.

“Show me more information,” he said aloud, hoping those words would get him what he wanted.

Anima was, at its core, a logical force. It didn’t care about emotion or morality or anything beyond parsing out the information it was given and returning something in exchange. Manipulators were just masters of feeding the right information to Anima to coax it into doing what they wanted.

Keaton had to learn to do the same thing, and somehow, he didn’t think his introductory class more than a decade ago was going to help.

Fortunately, his instincts did. His view changed, a long list appearing before him that included the information he’d first seen as well as some additional things, specifically a few that caught his eye:

Minions Assigned Tasks: 0/0

Drones Assigned Tasks: 0/4

Current Tasks: None.

Tasks Available: Excavating, Building, Harvesting, Planting, Crafting, Repurposing

Drones. He could guess at the use of such things, but where were they? The crystal said he had four, and he hadn’t seen another person — or creature — since the dragonkin left.

“Where are my drones?”

His view shifted again, his consciousness pulled down as if being dragged through the center of the earth. He saw them there, curled up asleep amidst the rocks. They almost looked cute, if he could ignore their twisted black horns, long thin bodies, and tapered, mole-like noses. …And the bony limbs with visible veins beneath thin red skin, long thick claws shaped like tiny shovels, and lashing tails with a serrated edge at the end.

That wasn’t even accounting for the mouth, which Keaton got a look at when one yawned. Two sharp incisors dwarfed pebble-like teeth that had been worn smooth.

They were by far the strangest creatures Keaton had ever seen, but apparently, they worked for him now.

“Wake them up,” he told the crystal, hoping Anima would understand.

One of the drones hissed, a long, forked tongue snaking out from behind its teeth. It roused the others with a violent shake, claws seeming to deliberately pierce flesh. There was screeching and chittering before all four drones clawed their way through solid rock, digging straight up through the earth.

Distantly, he heard something erupting near his feet. Keaton forcibly pulled his consciousness back, mind reeling as he was separated from his link to the crystal. He reached for his dagger, preparing for the worst, but saw those strange shovel-claws burst through the floor, digging in to provide leverage for the drone. Three others followed swiftly behind, and the first — slightly larger than the rest, and with shinier horns that he now noticed were encrusted with black crystals — approached, bowing before him.

“Uh, that’s… not necessary,” he said, looking down at the drone.

Two deep-set, inky black eyes peered up at him, unblinking. He wasn’t even sure the creature had eyelids, a fact Keaton found more unsettling than any other feature.

It chittered in response, those long teeth gnashing downward. He couldn’t understand the creature and didn’t know if he was meant to, but it gestured to the other drones and looked up at him expectantly.

“You’re… waiting for my orders?” It nodded. “Got it. Okay, I order you to…”

Shit. What was on that list again? Building sounded most useful, but Keaton had no idea what to build for a functional dungeon. Same problem with crafting.

“You know what you’re supposed to be doing, right? Probably better than me.”

Excited chittering answered him, those black eyes flashing with a spark of red. That didn’t seem like the safest thing, but he shouldn’t judge these creatures based on one meeting. For all he knew that expression was completely normal.

“Do that, then. Whatever you think will be most useful for the dungeon right now. Maybe find things we can use, too. I’ll… check in with you in a bit.”

The lead drone saluted, then elbowed the one behind it, who also followed suit. Eventually he was being saluted by all four drones, and Keaton awkwardly mirrored the gesture.

All this formality. I’m not some king or even a general. I’m just—

A dungeon lord. Maybe that was a type of nobility to creatures like these. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but so long as they did their jobs, he wouldn’t ask questions.

All four of them dropped down to four legs and scampered away, skittering across the floor in a way that reminded Keaton of some kind of insect. He shuddered visibly, but returned to the crystal, letting his consciousness pull back into it so he could communicate with its Anima once more.

He was able to watch the drones progress through the map. They showed as little red dots, and wherever they went, that gray haze slowly retreated. Occasionally, he received messages that made their progress even more clear.

A new chamber has been excavated.

A chamber has been expanded.

A new tunnel has been created.

Apparently what he’d needed to do was instruct them to excavate first. It was fortunate they knew what they were doing, though Keaton still wondered why anything needed to be excavated in the first place. When he wasn’t focused on the crystal, he was able to see the two tunnels that connected to this chamber. They were clear and open without needing to be carved by the drones.

It was something he’d have to research more, but for now Keaton watched his dungeon grow right before his eyes, the strides his drones were making indicated by his link with the crystal’s Anima.

Dungeon Size: 12/100

Dungeon Size: 27/100

Dungeon Size: 33/100

Progress. To what end, he wasn’t yet sure, but it made him feel like he was actually accomplishing something. For a time, Keaton just watched the drones work from the Crystal Chamber, then decided staring at a representation of the work being done was a little boring. Probably not comparable to the real thing, either.

Tying his dagger up in the hem of his shirt (he really needed to find some equipment… this was ridiculous), Keaton made his way down the hall, immediately noticing the difference from what he’d been able to see. It was well lit, for one thing, with sconces lining the walls at equal intervals. The natural stone was replaced with something that looked like it had been crafted in a stonemason’s workshop, and he lifted a hand to touch the smooth surface, his mouth hanging open.

“How in the hell…?”

There was no way those drones had made this. They didn’t have tools, or the materials required for refining stone, let alone making sconces and lighting them so they burned steadily. It was strange enough that Keaton just kept staring at one section of the wall, testing it with his hand to see if it might pass through.

He was gifted bruised fingers for his trouble, his hand connecting with solid stone each time.

This is insane… What else have you lot been up to?

Excitement thrummed through his veins. He’d been intrigued by the prospect of building his own dungeon, but just assumed it would look like a cave until he was able to process better materials. That was the way it worked out in the world, right? Thousands of years ago, his ancestors lived in caves like these so they could be close to the sources of Anima that pulsed through the earth. Gradually they’d expanded above ground, finding ways to channel Anima upward, but their first settlements had been little more than above-ground caves. Over time they’d expanded, learned new things, and now massive cities of the sturdiest stone and metal towered above the earth, asserting dominance over the land.

Maybe he could do the same thing. It was a lofty goal, as he was just one man, but the crystal had mentioned minions and lieutenants…

Moving on from the wall, Keaton ducked his head into one of the rooms and found it in a similar state. The walls were clad in smooth stonework, sconces spaced evenly to fill the room with warm, flickering light. There was nothing in it presently, except one sparkling gem in the far corner, its surface shimmering a blue-gray color.

He approached it warily, reaching out for it with his gauntlet. Probably not the wisest idea, but he couldn’t control the compulsion. If it was harmful to him, hopefully the gauntlet would protect him from being immediately killed.

The item didn’t kill him, though. He plucked it from the ground and held it in his palm, only for words to appear before his eyes, scrawled out in the same text Anima used to communicate the features of his dungeon.

Source of Anima: Stone – This fragment of Anima represents the structural components and necessary building blocks of a specific form of matter. Those with advanced abilities in Anima manipulation may crush the crystal to draw the Anima into their body and learn the knowledge it contains.

Keaton didn’t hesitate. He crushed the little crystal easily, the glass-like surface shattering with ease. The moment he did, a glowing light rose from it, transferring into him and filling his head with a sudden warmth, then a shock of pain. A splitting headache carved a space for itself behind his eyes, pounding so violently he felt a wave of nausea roil through him.

Finally, it stopped, the headache and nausea leaving him in a sudden rush, relief flooding him. On its heels, Keaton saw more text.

“Carved Stone” is now available to all workshops.

“Stone Wall” is now available to all workshops.

“Stone Cladding” is now available to all workshops.

Keaton blinked, taking a moment to understand what he’d just seen. Those were… building materials. And if he searched his mind, he saw images of exactly how to refine stone to make it into what the drones used to fancy up the chamber.

That was… amazing. He needed to get more of those crystals. That was clearly the key to building things up and creating a bigger, better dungeon.

Hurrying out of the room, Keaton searched for his drones the old-fashioned way, hearing inhuman grunting and chittering in the distance. As he drew closer, those sounds were joined by what seemed like a hundred tiny hammers clinking into stone, then crushing it. The similarity ended there as Keaton was unfortunately witness to the sight of one of his drones merrily crunching the stone it had excavated and swallowing it.

At his appearance, the lead drone perked up, its vacant eyes widening. It smacked the one nearest to it, chittering angrily. Soon all the drones stood at attention.

“That’s really not—” Keaton began before just waving it off. “Nevermind. Do you know where I can get more Source of Anima crystals? I found one in the room you finished back there.”

The lead drone produced a small sack from the corner of the room and handed it over to Keaton. Sure enough, several tiny crystals glinted up at him from the bottom of it.

I’m going to have to find a better way for them to store these… they’re too fragile for a sack.

“Thank you,” he said distractedly, carrying the crystals to the entrance. “Uh, as you were. Just keep looking for more of these, and anything else that might be useful to the dungeon.”

The lead drone chittered in response, but Keaton’s attention was already elsewhere. Walking into the hall, he carefully grabbed the next crystal. This one was a dark brown, and when he examined it, the name was different, even if the description was the same.

Source of Anima: Wood – This fragment of Anima represents the structural components and necessary building blocks of a specific form of matter. Those with advanced abilities in Anima manipulation may crush the crystal to draw the Anima into their body and learn the knowledge it contains.

It crushed just as easily as the last, producing the same debilitating headache. That, too, was something he’d have to figure out and work on. For now, it was worth the suffering, as more text appeared.

An understanding of “Lumber” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Carved Wood” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Wooden Plank” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Wooden Wall” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Wooden Door” is now available to all workshops.

That was a lot more than the stone had given him. Keaton gleefully repeated the process with the other two crystals in the sack, Source of Anima: Fuel and Source of Anima: Fungus respectively.

He repeated the process, gaining knowledge of how to make a fuel source that could be burned, and how to replant, harvest, and cook mushrooms, apparently a favorite food of drones — outside of rocks.

It was almost overwhelming, but excitement still threaded through him. He’d never been this enthused about anything in his life, nor had he ever been so ready to get his hands dirty and see what could be made. Right now, the drones were just excavating and finding these crystals, but they could probably retrieve materials for him, too, and Keaton could spend the rest of the day — maybe even the next several days — just trying things out.

He was so eager to get started that he failed to notice the initial shriek from further down the tunnel. He heard a tearful exclamation of “no!” though and rushed to see what the matter was.

Deeper into the cave he saw the dragonkin once more, the shackles still binding her hands and legs, chains dangling from heavy iron manacles, his drones poking and prodding her along.

9

“Hey, hold on a minute!” Keaton exclaimed, his tone terse enough that all but the lead drone let go of the woman. “I didn’t tell you to do this!”

The lead drone stood his ground, chittering in a tone Keaton didn’t appreciate. A tone he understood, though, the drone insisting it wasn’t at fault. That it was just doing what it was told.

…And it was right, in a way. Keaton had told them to bring him anything useful. Apparently this dragonkin woman was useful to a dungeon lord. He’d seen that easily enough before he’d killed the bastard who put those irons on.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to his forehead.

“Please, I can’t do this. I can’t pact. It’s too much. It’s too much,” the woman began, repeating a combination of those words over and over.

Her whole body was shaking, and Keaton wished he had a coat or something else to offer her that might provide some comfort and cover her up. Considering he was just swinging free in the breeze beneath his shirt, though, perhaps his priorities were a little skewed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “I don’t know anything about a pact, and you’re not bound to me. You can leave if you wish. I’ll have my drones light the tunnel that leads above ground.”

She looked up at him with fire in her eyes; a burning hatred that made Keaton stagger. The passion there, the blazing heat was enough to make his pulse race and put the absolute worst thoughts into his mind… if only she wasn’t directing that look at him.

Her lips curled in a snarl, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. Not the size of a dragon’s, but enough that Keaton didn’t dare come any closer.

“You’re cruel,” she said, “even for a dungeon lord.”

“Cruel? Because I said you could leave?” Indignation flared within him, but Keaton tamped it back down. She was scared and acting defensive. It had nothing to do with him. “Oh. I get it. You think I’m going to set you up and trick you.”

Her eyes narrowed, irises a striking gold that made Keaton think of the richest honey. So she did suspect him of trickery, which was fair enough. He was wearing the same gauntlet as the man who’d hurt her. Keaton frowned down at it, wondering if removing it for a little while would change matters, but it seemed to be the source of his power. He wasn’t eager to set it aside. With his luck, someone else would suddenly swoop in and claim it.

What to do about the dragonkin, though? How could he make her understand he didn’t want to hurt her? Nothing he could do would set her at ease, so he just decided to tell her the truth.

“Look, I’m… new to this. I know nothing about dungeon lords or pacts or anything else. It made me angry to see that last lord hurting you, and I don’t want you to ever feel that way around me. So if you want to leave, please do so.”

There. The truth. Maybe it was weakness to admit just how inexperienced he was, but Keaton didn’t think she was the type of person to take advantage of that. If she had been, he’d likely already be dead.

Instead he took a step back and inclined his chin toward the tunnel behind her. She watched him with the same suspicion, scoffing at him. Keaton frowned, shook his head, and started to turn away.

“Trust me, I get it. But the offer will stay on the table. Neither me or my drones will bother you.” He nodded to the lead drone, a creature he was definitely going to have to name at some point. “Come on. We can work somewhere else.”

Keaton hadn’t taken more than a few steps when he heard her quiet voice free of suspicion and contempt.

“…You really don’t understand, do you?”

He turned back around, waiting for her to explain. Along with her tone of voice, her demeanor had softened. She still looked fearful, shrinking away from him and his drones, but she no longer seemed like she’d strangle him to death with his own intestines if he took a step closer.

That’s progress, right?

“I… can’t leave this place. I was born in this cave, and every time I’ve tried to venture too far from the crystal, something terrible happens.”

“Something… terrible?” That sounded ominous. Keaton couldn’t help wondering if that was what happened to her wings.

“My life force weakens and I’m more susceptible to fatigue, injury, illness… anything you can imagine going wrong has happened to me each time I’ve tried to break my dependence on the crystal.”

“And the dungeon lord?” he asked gently, searching her eyes.

The woman flinched, looking away from him, and Keaton instantly regretted his question.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” He thought for a moment, hand reaching up to his chin, fingers brushing the day’s growth of stubble there. “Okay. So. You need to stay near the crystal, but someplace safe. I could have the drones carve out a room for you and see if I can make or find a pallet for you to sleep on for now. Would that help?”

“You… actually do want to help, don’t you?”

She scrutinized him for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Keaton wondered if she was learning something about him that he didn’t necessarily want brought into the light of day. He began to feel self-conscious and restless, shifting his weight but refusing to avert his gaze.

He was supposed to be a dungeon lord, after all. Just because he didn’t want to be cruel didn’t mean he could afford to ever look weak.

“I-I’m sorry, forgive me,” she stammered, looking away from him. “Many dungeon lords have come and gone since my birth here. Some have been less cruel than others, but none of them have ever expressed anything resembling empathy. I just… I’m surprised, I suppose.”

“Well, don’t go thinking I’m a saint,” Keaton clarified. “I’ve got my vices like anyone else. Pointless cruelty just isn’t one of them.”

She swallowed, glancing in his direction again. She couldn’t seem to look at him now, and Keaton wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than her practically hissing in his general direction.

“What… may I call you, my lord?”

Keaton’s nose scrunched. “Not that. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a little appealing, but ah,” he reached up a hand, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s not really necessary. You can just call me Keaton.”

“Lord Keaton,” she mused, as if tasting the words on her tongue.

“That’s not—” he sighed, giving in, “yeah, that’s fine. But what do I call you?”

Wide eyes blinked almost owlishly at him, her innocent expression so incredibly endearing. She looked away again just as quickly before answering.

“I… know my parents must have given me a name, but I don’t remember it. Each lord to rule this dungeon has called me something different, save for the last. He called me nothing more than ‘girl’ or ‘whore.’”

Keaton’s gauntlet balled into a fist, his fingers curling tight against his palm. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding together, and it was all he could do to remind himself that the man who’d treated her that way was already dead.

The dragonkin shrank away from him, though, cowering behind her arm. She was positioned as if she expected something to be thrown at her, and Keaton soon understood why. He was radiating purple-black energy, the darkness swirling around him like a mist.

“Shit, sorry. That’s new.” He forced himself to calm, drawing in a deep breath. “I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at the asshole who hurt you.”

“…Why?” she asked, venturing another glance at him. “You are human, are you not? You should have an innate hatred for my kind. For all ‘monsters.’”

Keaton scoffed at that. Of course, he’d been taught that monsters were inherently evil creatures, but there was obviously a difference between this woman and the mindless… well, drones that followed a dungeon lord’s every whim.

In school, Keaton had learned about the many atrocities committed by monsters. Whole civilizations leveled for what seemed like the hell of it. He’d believed that, because what else was he to believe? He’d never known any monsters to get their side of the story.

That, though, was well before he’d learned that there were plenty of “monsters” among his own people, and perhaps they weren’t as credible on right and wrong as he’d once thought. He’d started viewing all of it with suspicion then, so it was surprisingly easy for Keaton to empathize with this woman.

Maybe it was just because he’d seen her in pain; had watched a human harm her, with intent to harm her further. Whatever it was, he knew that if he could raise that damned dungeon lord and torture him until he begged for death… he would probably do it.

“I should, but I don’t,” Keaton said simply, not wanting to explain the twisting and complicated reasoning.

“I see…”

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and Keaton couldn’t help his gaze being directed there. Her bow-shaped lips looked as soft as a human’s, and the way they lightly glistened when she released her lip made him lick his own.

Rein it in, Keaton, or you’re going to seem like you’re no better than the last guy.

“I suppose you should be the one to name me, then,” she said, looking up at him with eyes that had seen far more than Keaton could ever fathom.

“What? No, absolutely not. You’re not my pet, and you’re definitely not my possession.”

His skin crawled just thinking about it. Maybe she didn’t see it that way, but to Keaton it was just… wrong.

“Why don’t you choose a name for yourself?” he asked.

“I…” she blinked at him, not seeming to understand for a moment. Her gaze was incredulous, her lips slightly parted in wonder. “I suppose I could, couldn’t I? If I am not bound to you, then I am free to choose my own name…”

The sentence trailed off in wistful, almost childlike fascination. Had she really been so poorly treated that this was something she considered a blessing?

Apparently so.

“Oh, what will I choose!” a girlish giggle brightened the tunnels considerably, making Keaton smile even though she stifled it soon after. “I’m sorry, Lord Keaton. I’ve never been given this opportunity before.”

“Take some time with it, okay? When you come up with a name you like, let me know.”

He offered her a smile, and, to his surprise, she smiled back, displaying many of her teeth. Human teeth, for the most part. Human enough, anyway, aside from those two pointy fangs up front. There was something cute about them, and definitely cute about the way she looked when she smiled.

“In the meantime, let’s see about getting you a room.”

He gestured for her to follow him, heading back toward the Crystal Chamber with his drones in tow. Before he’d even taken a couple steps, the dragonkin spoke again.

“Wait, my lord. If you’re new here, that means you have little to no comprehension of how a dungeon works, correct?”

“…Let’s go with ‘little,’ yeah.”

Her smile brightened, her button nose crinkling with delight. “Then perhaps I can help you as you are helping me. Who better to assist you than someone who has lived in this dungeon all her life?”

She had a point. He really didn’t know what he was doing, and if he was going to acclimate to this place, then he needed to understand the extent of his abilities. He also really needed to figure out the basics like where the hell he was supposed to sleep and what he was supposed to eat.

“Sure, yeah. Let’s do it,” he said with a smile. “I appreciate the he—”

Keaton wasn’t able to finish that statement. In an instant, the dragonkin was flinging herself at him, arms wrapped around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest, hugging him tight.

He tried so, so hard not to react, just standing there stiff as a board. Something else grew stiff too, though, and Keaton pulled back with a cough.

“I’m sorry, my lord. I have overstepped my place with you. I am just excited to be of service,” she said, long ears drooping, broken wings sagging.

“It’s okay, really,” he managed, willing himself to think of something other than how soft and warm she was. “Let’s just… get started, yeah?”

10

“You have the right idea, actually. I’m surprised you managed to figure out as much as you did without prior knowledge.”

The dragonkin stood beside the crystal, her face lit up by its red glow. She studied it curiously as Keaton explained what he’d accomplished thus far in having the drones work on excavating and creating new chambers and finding him more Anima sources he could use to build new things.

Her words didn’t sound like flattery, so Keaton responded with his own brand of earnestness. “I’m pretty sure I stumbled into most of it, to be honest. I just told the drones to find things that would be useful and do what they’d normally do under the circumstances.”

She giggled again before clearing her throat, affecting a more serious demeanor. Keaton bit back a grin. Now that she didn’t fear him so much, she was proving to be a delight to have around.

“Yes, that would make sense. Drones follow a protocol once they recognize a new dungeon lord. There’s only so much they can do, though. Clearing out space for new chambers and building the basic layout of them is about the extent of their power, from what I’ve seen. Oh, and they can help carry things from one room to the next.”

“How are they getting the little Anima crystals, then?”

She smiled at him in a way that felt mildly patronizing, but that Keaton disregarded because of how nice it was to see her smiling. “You’re not an Anima manipulator, are you?”

“Ah, no. Definitely not. I had some classes when I was younger, but they took me out of them.”

She reached out to touch his arm in a gesture Keaton was sure she meant to be comforting. It was reflexive; something he might have done for another human, too. But the touch of her hand on his skin was electric, a restless energy skittering across his body that made the strange feeling of her claws barely noticeable.

He met her gaze, her golden eyes wide with surprise, lips parted just so. She drew back from him as if he’d burned her, holding her hand close to her body and looking down at it. A flush rose in her cheeks, highlighting the patterning of silver scales that framed the sides of her face.

“I-I apologize, my lord. I should not be so free with my touches. I’m not normally like this, I—”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, following the words with a gentle smile. “Let’s… just get back to the lesson.”

She cleared her throat and stared at the crystal, making an obvious effort not to look at him.

That was weird. I haven’t felt like that since I was a teenager…

Even now there was the tiniest flutter in his breast. Keaton just ignored it, focusing on her words.

“The reason I ask is because this is second nature to those of us who understand Anima. It exists all around us, of course, and is contained in every speck of matter. Certain entities can interact with that matter and draw the Anima from it, condensing it into its purest form. This can then be used by advanced manipulators — dungeon lords, for example — to build new things, so long as they have the materials.”

“So it’s possible to get a crystal from… everything?” Keaton asked, not bothering to hide the awe in his voice.

The dragonkin’s smile returned. “Not everything, but most things. Oh, it’s wondrous, isn’t it? My kind are born with an innate connection to Anima, of course, but I’ve always wanted to study it further.”

“You may get your wish, then, because I’ll be honest: All of this is pretty overwhelming for me.”

Her eyes lit up and she looked as if she wanted to say something to him but stopped herself at the last moment, changing what she’d been about to say.

“That’s not necessary, my lord. It’s not my place, especially as I’m not a lieutenant or even a minion of this dungeon. For now, let’s just focus on getting you up to speed. Have you ever built anything by hand?”

“I apprenticed under a blacksmith for half a year,” he said, ruffling a hand through his hair. “I enjoyed it, but I can’t say I had much of a talent for it.”

“Fortunately, you don’t need innate talent when you have access to Anima.” She gave him a gentle smile. “You do have to think strategically, though. Every dungeon lord who… inherits this dungeon always starts with the same basic pillars to sustain himself and his minions.”

“Ah, so somewhere to sleep, somewhere to get food and water, and… defenses?”

“The first two are right,” she said, her large tail curling around her legs. “The third needs to be made more specific.”

The dragonkin nodded to the crystal, and Keaton thought back to the moment when the last dungeon lord had become vulnerable.

“I need to protect this.”

She nodded. “I think that should be your first task. The last dungeon lord — Lord Havron — decided to ignore the defenses and focus on production first. He paid for it with his life.”

Something sparked in her eyes, some dark glee that Keaton understood all too well. He was glad for that other lord’s hubris, and he didn’t plan to make the same mistake.

“Okay, so I need to get the materials. I know how to make stone walls, which I guess will work for now until the drones can find something better.”

“They’ll come across ore eventually,” she agreed, “but yes, you will need them to gather stone. Drones can gather materials at a staggering rate, and… hmm, do you know how to check the status of your drones?” When Keaton shook his head no, she continued. “Interface with the crystal, then say something like ‘show drone status’ and select your lead drone. Tell me if there’s anything special about it.”

Keaton did as she said, pressing his gauntlet-clad palm to the crystal and speaking the words aloud to get to see the drone status, then that specific drone.

Drone Leader

Health: 10/10

Energy: 45/100

Drones Assigned: 3

Current Task: Excavating

“Uhh… no, I don’t think so. I mean, it’s weird that I can just see all of this distilled down to numbers, but I guess that’s what all Anima manipulators see. It’s got really low health, though. Is that normal?”

“Really? Its health should be double that of the others.” Keaton cringed at that. He didn’t know what 5 health would mean in a real fight, but it couldn’t be good. “But yes, drones are very weak. Nearly anything that damages them will disperse the Anima that has created them, but don’t worry. They will reform in time.”

“Good to know,” he mused, considering the display again. “It says its excavating right now. That’s what I want it to be doing, right?”

“Yes and no,” the dragonkin said. “It just says ‘excavating’?” He nodded. “Then it will just clear out anything in its way, with no real purpose. You need it to specifically excavate stone and have the other drones bring it back for you.”

“How do I order it to do that?”

“It’s fairly intuitive.” He tried not to snort at that. To someone who’s grown up with this stuff, maybe. “You just need to say something like ‘set drone leader task to Excavating: Stone.’”

Easy enough. Keaton did as she instructed, and the status screen change to reflect his order. A grin stole across his features.

“Hey, it worked.”

“Are you surprised?” she asked, her golden eyes glimmering with mild amusement as she looked up at him. “You are a dungeon lord now, Lord Keaton. Anima is yours to command.”

He gave her a sheepish grin, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s going to take some getting used to. I’ve never had this much direct input over anything before.”

She giggled, her little pointed teeth glinting in the torch light. “You are a curious one. But enough of that,” she said, snapping back to a more serious expression. “Once you give your drone leader a command, you should notice the other drones follow it, too.”

He checked the status of the others and sure enough, they were also excavating stone.

“They should have something to share for it any mo—”

She didn’t even need to finish the statement. The click of claws on cave floors reminded him of a dog loping excitedly through a kitchen, but it definitely wasn’t a dog that came bounding up to him.

Three drones dropped what was frankly a crazy amount of stone right at his feet, their barbed tails thrashing behind them. They chittered, saluted, then disappeared into the tunnels again.

“Uhh…”

“Oh, you haven’t built storage yet. My mistake,” the dragonkin said, a pretty flush rising in her cheeks. “I can help with that, too. Stay interfaced with the crystal, and um… oh, what did the others do…”

Keaton watched her out of the corner of his eyes. Her hands were balled into tiny fists at her side and her eyes were scrunched closed. She was really going to have to stop being adorable. Either that or he needed to get a handle on just how easily distracted he was.

“Oh! I remember. You tell the crystal to make a blueprint, and then think of what you want to make and what it would look like.”

Another easy command, but this one left a lot of room for Keaton to fuck it up. He’d never been a creative guy. He didn’t even know where he should be storing things like this. What if he made it wrong?

“Any pointers? What have the other dungeon lords done for storage?” he asked, hopeful.

“I… am sorry, my lord, but I was never permitted to see.” Her ears drooped again. “I can tell you what I would do, but I do not wish to presume.”

“Please presume. Just… until I say otherwise, presume all you like. Seriously.”

Her eyes lit up at that, gold sparkling like the precious metal. That blush still remained in her cheeks, but it seemed to be borne more of excitement this time.

“Well, I would dig it well below what you intend to be the ground level and make it tiered. Stone jutting out for hand and footholds, until you can build a proper ladder or stairs. Make containment segments for each commonly used material, with the most used — like building materials — on the top…”

She continued, laying out more than what Keaton could follow in his mind. Grabbing one of the smaller stones he’d been brought, he used the edge of it like chalk to draw out the plan as she described it. The thing looked like a mess by the time he was done, but he thought he had a better understanding of what he needed to build.

Keaton returned to the crystal and interfaced again, telling Anima he wished to create a blueprint. With some effort, he transferred what was now in his mind into the crystal, adjusting details here and there to better match the vision his companion had laid out.

“Okay, I think that’s as good as it’s going to get,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice despite his words. “What now?”

“Now you just change the lead drone’s assignment again and tell it to build from the blueprint you’ve created.”

Keaton did so, the process taking less time and effort than before. He heard that telltale clicking again and looked over to see a parade of drones with stone overflowing from their arms. All of it was dumped at his feet again.

The dragonkin giggled. “Don’t worry, my lord. They’ll retrieve it and place it in the storage facility once they’re done. While they work on that, we should make some blueprints for the crystal defenses, then for the rooms we need to have.”

They worked together with the dragonkin as the main architect, though Keaton offered up a few suggestions here and there. Time didn’t really seem to pass. With no sign of the sundown here, it was impossible to tell, anyway, but Keaton felt like it could have been five minutes or five hours by the time they finally took a break.

By the end of it, they had designs sketched out for a mini fortress, a bedroom, and a room for food and water production respectively. Keaton stood, admiring the sketches when words appeared across his mind.

The Labyrinth has a new empty room.

The Labyrinth has a new storage facility.

There are drones waiting for instructions.

Drones have returned to their default duties.

Stone has been deposited in the storage facility and is ready for use.

He blinked as if to clear his vision once the messages finally stopped.

“Lord Keaton? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just… Anima I guess…? Tells me when things have happened. It just told me a bunch of stuff at once.”

She looked confused for a moment before it seemed to click. “Oh, yes. That will happen if you are engrossed in another task or actively manipulating Anima. I believe you can tell the crystal not to give you so much information, but I would recommend keeping it as is for now.”

“No arguments here,” Keaton said. “I need all the information I can get. Speaking of… I guess the next step is getting these blueprints into the crystal, then having them built?”

She nodded, smiling up at him. “That’s right. See, my lord? You barely even need me.”

“Oh no, I definitely need you. Badly.”

That passionate growl to his voice wasn’t something Keaton had intended. If anything, it was meant to be an expression of gratitude mixed with desperation. He realized that wasn’t how it sounded when her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed, though. She looked away from him, fidgeting nervously, and Keaton stumbled over the words to explain himself.

“For guidance! I need you for guidance. Building a dungeon. Doing dungeon things. Nothing weird or sexual about that, right? Hah.” Strained chuckling followed, and Keaton’s hand seemed doomed to remain at the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and continued, “Uh… anyway. Let’s just… get things underway.”

11

It took what must have been hours for the drones to finish just a couple of the tasks he’d assigned, and Keaton soon discovered why. After checking in on them and seeing their status was “Idle,” he and the dragonkin went searching. The drones were curled up in a pile in the corner of the room they’d recently built, all four of them snoring.

“Oh, that makes sense,” the dragonkin said, her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Drones need rest? I’m… not sure why I didn’t realize that. Now I feel like an asshole. I guess they need food and water too, huh?”

“They need everything any living creature needs, but in smaller amounts. I’m sure they’ve been getting food and water on their own, and they should only rest for an hour or two at most. Perhaps you can see what Anima crystals they’ve found in the meantime? There may be enough to make this into a proper bedroom, and I can show you how to use Anima to craft things directly.”

That piqued his interest. Keaton felt like he always had moments after pulling off a big score. Secure in the knowledge that what he’d gotten his hands on was now his, and just eager to see how well he’d actually done.

He spotted the sack the lead drone had carried, the bag propped against the wall. Padding over there, Keaton retrieved it and stuck his hand inside. His fingers touched smooth, fragile crystal, and he turned the bag over to gently deposit the contents into his palm.

A bad idea, since they started to overflow. The dragonkin caught one that made a beeline for the cave floor.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, wincing.

“You must take care, my lord. Anima crystals are precious, and there are times where you might not get a second chance at obtaining them.”

He nodded, suitably chastised, and carefully took the crystal from her. There were five in total, all of them different colors from a ruddy brown to a bright, vibrant green. That one sparkled slightly when Keaton held it up to the light.

“Why is this one different?” he asked.

“Oh, that is a rare crystal!” she exclaimed, excitement lacing her voice. “Likely from something organic, as creatures and plants tend to hold on to their Anima a little more strongly than inanimates.”

“But they’d be… dead, right? If the drones got a crystal from them?”

That settled like a stone in the pit of his stomach. The idea of pulling the essence from stone and wood and whatever else was no problem. But getting it from living creatures bothered him, for some reason.

The fungus they got that one crystal from was alive, he reminded himself.

But that was fungus. To the best of Keaton’s knowledge, a mushroom didn’t feel pain when you dug it up with your grubby little fingers. At least… no pain that he could hear. But when you were starving in the woods, the sound of a rabbit screaming seconds before it was killed was something you’d never forget. Definitely something Keaton wouldn’t ever forget.

“In most cases, yes. There is… advanced dungeon lord powers that allow for an experienced Anima user to drain Anima without the creature being deceased, and sometimes that leads to a crystal, but—”

Keaton shuddered. “Yeah, I won’t be doing that, thanks.”

Her shoulders fell, and he realized she’d let out a sigh of relief. Good to know they were on the same page about him not fucking with what was definitely something evil.

“Well, here goes nothing then,” he said, transferring all but one of the crystals to his left hand.

The ruddy brown one remained in his gauntlet-clad hand and he crushed it, feeling that knowledge seep into him.

Source of Anima: Earth – This fragment of Anima represents the structural components and necessary building blocks of a specific form of matter. Those with advanced abilities in Anima manipulation may crush the crystal to draw the Anima into their body and learn the knowledge it contains.

As with the others, it was immediately followed by more information.

An understanding of “Clay” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Clay Wall” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Clay Pottery” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Clay Crockery” is now available to all workshops.

He crushed the others, one by one, and ended up with Anima sources for peat, limestone, and copper. He was surprised by the last, assuming that should have been a rare material, but maybe that only counted for living things like the green crystal he’d saved for last.

Keaton looked to his companion as he transferred the final crystal into his hand. She stared at it with eyes as eager as his own, and when he crushed it, she held her breath.

Source of Anima: Fur.

He ignored the rest of the text that appeared as usual, wishing it away so he could see what came next.

An understanding of “Treated Fur” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Fur Cloak” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Fur Rug” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Fur Blanket” is now available to all workshops.

“We should be able to make a pallet from fur, right? Something we can sleep on?” Realizing what he’d said — mainly from the fact that she was blushing scarlet — Keaton stammered out a few more words. “Two pallets, I mean. Two beds.”

“Of course, my lord,” she ducked her head as if in deference, though he caught sight of a small smile. “Let’s go see what materials your drones brought back before they decided to rest.”

He nodded, heading down the passageway to where the drones had built the storage facility. He was interested in seeing it anyway, as he hadn’t looked once the messages came in saying it was complete.

“Oh, check the crystal first, Lord Keaton. Otherwise you may be searching for some time.”

“Right. Of course.”

Gods, he felt like an idiot when it came to this stuff. The learning curve didn’t seem all that steep, but he kept sliding back down. Mainly because his first instinct was to get his hands on everything. He wasn’t used to the idea of delegating and giving orders from on high.

As they returned to the central chamber, he considered the fortifications they’d made. The crystal was now barricaded within stone walls that reached to the top of the chamber, a wooden door on each side the only access. He wanted to make that something sturdier, but wooden doors were all he could build right now, so they had to suffice.

Even looking at it now, though, Keaton thought of more improvements. A choke point funneling attackers, with traps waiting for them at the end. Ballista positioned on each side of the crystal, perched atop tall stone walls. Maybe the kind of trap they used from atop castle walls — burning oil poured down on unsuspecting attackers.

It thrilled him to think of all the ways he could improve on the design, but he didn’t have the material for any of that yet, or the capacity to make it.

Opening up the wooden door, he let the dragonkin through with him — making yet another mental note about spell-warded doors — then approached the crystal. He touched his skeletal gauntlet to it and found the inventory for the storage facility on his own. There he was given both a visual representation of the resources at his disposal as well as a numerical tally.

Okay, to make a bed I’d need… well, it should tell me what I’ll need, right?

“Show me… uh, show me everything I can make using fur,” he told Anima.

A list was displayed with crude images off to the side. Considering they resembled things Keaton had seen before, he wondered if Anima wasn’t just pulling from his own memories. It would make sense, at least until he encountered something he’d never seen before.

There was only one problem.

“There’s nothing here for a bed. I should have the materials for at least a simple one. Wood for the frame, the furs to go on top…”

“Anima will only provide you with very basic recipes,” the dragonkin clarified. “I’m sorry, I should have told you that. Anything more advanced that comes from combining materials will have to come from you.”

“So I just… experiment and try to make stuff?”

She nodded.

“Huh. That’s… pretty cool, actually.”

While there were a lot of times that apprenticeship had been a drag — mainly because of the man he’d apprenticed under — he’d enjoyed making new things. He’d always wanted to dream something up and bring it to life with his own two hands, but he’d never had the courage. Or the means.

Now, all these materials were at his disposal, just waiting for him to do something with them.

“Let’s make a bed, then,” he said with a grin, gaze flicking to the dragonkin.

She beamed at him, his excitement seeming to catch with her, too. “It’s very easy, I promise. It may get harder as you use more advanced materials, but for now it should take very little out of you.” She stepped up on the platform beside him, looking at the crystal as if she could see it.

“Are you able to interface with the crystal too?” he asked.

“No, only the dungeon lord can do that,” she told him, “but I can… feel the energy it emits. It’s… it’s soothing to be near it when you’re working. If it bothers you, I can—”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said, making sure his tone left no question as to his feelings.

She nodded, offering him a smile before she continued. “As far as crafting is concerned, you can make blueprints here just like you can for rooms. If you imagine the materials and how you want to manipulate them, it will create a step-by-step guide that can be followed to create it.”

Keaton nodded, then focused on the materials of wood. He imagined himself cutting evenly sized planks to build the base of the bed, nailing and then lashing those together with some rope. Then he “built” four legs for it to stand off the ground and nailed those to the base.

As he worked, the item showed in his mind, easy for him to manipulate so he could view all sides of it. Right now, it just looked like a long, squat table, so Keaton thought about the fur and imagined himself cleaning it, drying it, then stitching pieces together to form a crude covering for the bed, as well as a blanket.

When he was happy with it, Keaton finished up the process as he had with the rooms, and the blueprint was made.

The item “Basic Bed” is ready for production.

Current supplies can produce 2 “Basic Bed”s.

Minions Assigned: 0/0

Time to Produce: Not Available.

“Hold on, it says I have no minions available to produce the beds. Is that because the drones are sleeping?”

He removed his hand from the crystal, giving the dragonkin his full attention.

“Oh, drones are not counted as minions. You need more intelligent beings to build anything that involves combining materials.”

Keaton frowned at that. “So I have to go find monsters out in the world and… what? Convince them to join me by telling them all about my amazing benefits package?”

“I suppose you could,” she mused, “but that is not how most dungeon lords go about things. Just as you can absorb the essence of Anima from crystals, you can extract it from any living creature you have enough will to overpower. You just take a small amount from the strongest creature and use that to bring it into your dungeon and under your command.”

Keaton again felt his stomach twist and roil. The idea of siphoning the essence from a creature really didn’t set well with him. It seemed almost like he was keeping a part of the being’s soul, and he wasn’t exactly comfortable with that.

But if doing so was the only way to build up his dungeon…

“I don’t suppose you know where any… uh, what would I even recruit for this kind of work?”

If there was an award for the dungeon lord who’d started with the least amount of knowledge possible, Keaton was sure he would have won it. Uncontested.

“Lord Havron used goblins, under the command of a hobgoblin. A few burrowers, too, though he’d just acquired those. The goblins would be easier for you to acquire. They live in a cave near here, and Lord Havron would not have taken all of them. He was not strong enough to do so.”

Goblins. He’d met his fair share in the woods. They were pests, for the most part, overturning caravans and sinking their rotten teeth into still-breathing horses while their hobgoblin cousins raided the supplies. They didn’t usually harm humans — at least not in Keaton’s experience — but bounties for their scalps were very common in Valfast. They’d lost merchants hundreds of thousands of gold over the year in lost goods and horses.

Having them as part of a workforce felt counterintuitive. Wouldn’t they rob him blind and eat him out of house and home?

Not that I have anything for them to rob…

Maybe there was something he was missing. Maybe goblin society functioned differently under the rule of a dungeon lord. He supposed he’d have to find out if he ever wanted to get anything more than stone walls built.

“That’s a good lead, thank you. I guess I’ll need to recruit some minions before we can rest for the night, so… would you mind leading the way?”

She immediately paled, her eyes wide, lips trembling. Whatever he’d done, whatever he’d said, it’d apparently been the wrong thing.

12

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he quickly clarified, “it wasn’t an order or anything. I just thought you might know where the cave is.”

“I do.” That tremble worked its way through her voice, the words shaking. “But I… I am sorry, my lord. I am not used to combat, and I am useless in a fight besides.”

“We don’t need to get into a fight. Right? I just need to be able to draw the essence from one of the hobgoblins.”

“Goblins are a fierce people, Lord Keaton. How do you plan to subdue them if not by force?”

He flashed her an easy, confident grin. “Humans are a pretty fierce people, too. But if you sneak up on them, catch them with their pants down, turns out they don’t pose much of a threat.”

The dragonkin made a face, her adorable nose scrunching once more. He realized what was wrong immediately.

“Not literally with their pants down. I mean, not usually.” He thought about his own transgressions — specifically those that got him into this situation. “Uh, anyway. It’s just a turn of phrase. It means to catch them off guard, and it’s my specialty.”

“So… no fighting?”

“No fighting,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I’m not equipped for it anyway.”

Goblins weren’t much of a threat to him in full leather armor, but as he was now? He was pretty sure even their stone weapons could gut him with ease. That or castrate him in one fell swoop. He wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Then I would be happy to act as your guide, Lord Keaton.”

Her smile returned, really bringing the life to her eyes. So much so that he was even beginning to feel comfortable with her calling him “Lord Keaton.” He tried not to think about the why of it all, and instead gestured for her to lead the way before realizing something crucial.

“Hold on. I can’t…” He grit his teeth, then whispered to her, “I can’t make a statement without pants on. Nobody’s going to take my seriously.”

Her gaze strayed downward, and Keaton instantly regretted saying anything. Just the attention of a beautiful woman staring in the general vicinity of his crotch made his cock twitch.

For fuck’s sake, I’m not fifteen anymore! Stop that!

His cock didn’t listen, if the dragonkin’s deep crimson flush was anything to go off of. “I assumed you were wearing something under that. Um… oh, sometimes when a dungeon lord is killed and his dungeon is disassembled, a few items remain that can’t be broken down by Anima. They should be in a chamber close to the crystal. The drones usually gather them into a pile.”

Keaton let out a sigh of relief. “Wish I’d known that hours ago…”

Her ears drooped. “I apologize, my lord, I should have—”

“Hey, no.” He reached for her shoulders, regretting it when she flinched at his touch. A shock of guilt lanced through him and Keaton returned his arms to his sides. “Sorry, I shouldn’t just touch you like that. And I shouldn’t just run my mouth. I was just… complaining about my shitty luck, that’s all.”

She nodded, her bottom lips drawn between her teeth again. Keaton focused on literally anything else to keep from becoming distracted again.

“So anyway, let’s see what survived Lord Havron’s death,” he said, clearing his throat.

Keaton searched the nearest chambers, finding one with a pile of items in the corner, just as she’d said. He approached carefully, uncertain what might have been left behind. As it turned out, the items were both harmless to him and pretty damn useful. A better-looking dagger that wasn’t rusted through, a set of simple (if mismatched) clothes, a waterskin, some dried meat, and a flask that smelled foul when he lifted it to his nose.

“I’m surprised no resources survived,” Keaton said, holding up the clothes.

The shirt and trousers were both threadbare, but they would do for now. Shame there weren’t any boots, though.

“Any resources would have been taken to the storage facility,” the dragonkin said.

“Right, makes sense.” He reached for the hem of his shirt, then thought better of it. “Um, could you maybe… turn around? I just want to change really quick.”

She flushed crimson yet again, though there was something in her eyes that spoke more of interest than embarrassment. At least for a moment.

Probably just wishful thinking…

“Of course, Lord Keaton. You may disrobe in peace.”

She turned, and Keaton shrugged before pulling off the shoddy tunic he’d been wearing. The thing was disgusting, covered in a mix of dirt, sweat, and crusted blood. At least the clothes he was changing into were clean, though they weren’t going to hold up in any kind of scuffle. He’d really need to try and make some armor soon. Maybe the goblins would know how.

As he pulled on the ratty trousers, Keaton swore he could feel eyes on him. Paranoia told him there might be a third-party present, but his ego said it was just the dragonkin looking even though she said she wouldn’t. He opted to believe his ego, the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips, even as a flush spread across his body.

If he reacted to every little thing she did, they were going to have problems. It would be one thing if her actions were intentional, but they clearly weren’t. And considering how she’d been treated by Lord Havron, he didn’t want to cross a line — accidentally or otherwise.

So he just dressed quickly and quietly, opting not to give her a show. With the tunic and trousers conforming to his body despite the lack of a belt, he at least felt slightly more human. Picking up the more functional dagger helped, too, as did the fact that it came with a scabbard. He used some spare rope to tie that about his waist and tested how quickly he could draw it before he was satisfied with his appearance.

“Do you want me to look for another we— ah, right, you said you’re not a fighter,” he amended.

“I apologize, my lord. I can… try to learn, if you insist, but—”

“No.” The word was gentle, his gaze casting toward her. He offered the dragonkin a little time, and she smiled back. “You’re not mine to command, remember? And if it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t want you doing it. I’ll keep you safe.”

That same pretty flush colored her cheeks again and Keaton felt a swell of pride. He’d never been this person; had never thought himself suitable for the role of white knight. But with her, it just seemed natural. She’d been used and abused for… gods, who knew how long now. If they were going to share space, then Keaton would do everything in his power to protect her.

“Alright, well. I think I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Let’s go.”

They walked through the tunnels, the pathway slanting gradually upward and then leveling out. Keaton wouldn’t have known they were even close to the entrance — there was no sunlight to be found — except for the fact that the air gradually warmed, becoming fresher and less stagnant. He hadn’t even noticed the cold, even wearing so little, but the heat was a welcome relief. At least until they reached the mouth of the cave.

The air was thick, moisture clinging to every molecule, wrapping around him like a sopping wet blanket that had been left in front of an oven. His skin felt instantly clammy, Keaton’s stomach souring as it always did in the wake of such unpleasant heat.

“Is it always this… stifling?” the dragonkin asked, her face slightly green.

“During the summer, yeah. And the spring. And parts of the fall.”

That was one thing Keaton wouldn’t miss: Laying in a pool of his own sweat, his bedclothes stinking with it. Gods forbid he try to do anything that required even the slightest amount of effort while in that state, too. He’d had to pay for a bath to be brought in once a day, and the inns he’d stayed at knew exactly when to gouge their guests.

Now he didn’t have to worry about it unless he went topside. He wasn’t sure that made up for the lack of basic comforts right now, but eventually his dungeon would surpass the stinking bog Valfast was built atop.

“I don’t understand how humans live like this,” she said with a frown. “Everything is so… wet and disgusting.”

Keaton laughed, then realized something. “Wait, have you never been outside of the dungeon?”

“Not since I was very young. Little more than a hatchling,” she confessed, looking down. “There was never any reason for me to go outside the dungeon.”

“Shit, that’s right. You can’t be away from the crystal.” Dammit. He could kick himself. How had he forgotten? “I’m sorry. Come on, I’ll walk you back—”

“No!” her voice was clear and firm, stopping Keaton in his tracks. Once she realized what she’d done, she shrank in on herself. “Um… I am fine. You needn’t worry, Lord Keaton. The cave is not far enough away to be an issue. I’m just rarely taken anywhere by the lord of the dungeon. There’s never any need.”

“Well I need you here,” Keaton said. “You’re my guide, right?”

She beamed at that, perking up just like he hoped she would. “Right!”

With that settled, the two of them continued through the soggy marshlands. While the ground near the cave was fairly dry, the further away they got, the more Keaton’s bare feet sank into the soft, squishy peat.

Definitely need to find some boots soon. If I don’t die from some weird swamp disease first…

He spotted the cave in the distance, the torchlight creating an eerie haze. It was the kind of thing that might have inspired the tales Keaton was told in the orphanage.

“Best not to wander or wonder, wonder, or the trolls will take you, drag you under, under,” he murmured in the slightest singsong tone.

“What?”

“Ah, didn’t realize that was out loud,” he said with a grin. “Just something they used to sing to us at night. To try and keep kids from wandering out of their beds.”

She shuddered at that, and Keaton couldn’t blame her. Even less so when he heard her reason.

“Trolls are disgusting creatures. I remember very little of my mother, but she told me trolls eat dragonkin young. Whole.”

Keaton cringed, feeling that in a visceral way. He’d never actually seen a troll, and he didn’t care to. Supposedly they lived in the bogs where they were easily camouflaged. The mam at the orphanage had said the tops of their heads looked like logs just floating there, waiting for adventurous children to leap on them.

With that in mind, he made a wide berth around any logs he saw floating in the swamp, keeping his attention half on the ground, and half on the cave entrance which — as he drew closer — Keaton realized was capped off with the skull of some massive creature.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. “What is that from?”

She just blinked at him, considering him for a long moment before she said, “A dragon, of course.”

Keaton looked between her and the skull, a question forming in his mind. How…? He blushed. No, that was way too crude to ask. He shouldn’t even think it.

His companion blushed as well. “Oh, no. This is an Ancient Dragon. My kind are not borne of theirs, though we are distant relatives. Dragonkin lines are diluted by centuries of elven blood.”

That made a lot more sense and didn’t make Keaton question things he was better off not questioning. Instead, he was able to focus on something else: The impressive, intimidating skull.

“How did a bunch of goblins get ahold of a dragon skull?”

“There are Ancient Dragon bones throughout these lands. It is plausible that some have sunk to the bottom of these swamps, and the goblins simply pulled this skull out and used it to mark the entrance of their home. I imagine they’re able to keep other tribes from bothering them with such a fearsome display.”

He could imagine that, too. Even Keaton was tempted to leave them be. But he needed minions, and this was his best shot at it.

“Do you know if there’s another entrance?” he asked, maintaining a whisper.

“I’m not sure. Lord Havron just stormed in through the front,” she said with a frown. “He killed anyone who got in his way.”

“Yeah, well. Lord Havron and I differ in technique. By a lot,” he muttered, gesturing toward the side of the cave with his chin. “Follow me.”

Keaton snuck around, the dragonkin following close behind. She was surprisingly quiet, aside from the slide of her tail through the boggy underbrush. That could be reasoned away as a large snake, though, and the guards posted outside the cave didn’t seem to pay them any mind.

He crept close to the side of the ridge, listening for activity within. The walls were thick, but he was still able to hear a snarling argument. Over food, it sounded like. If food was scarce here, maybe that would be a selling point.

Though if I’m controlling one of them, do I even need a selling point? It’s basically ‘join me or die.’

The thought didn’t sit well with him, but Keaton pushed it aside as he finally found what he was looking for: A side passage. The bouncing flicker of torchlight revealed a patrol, but he only heard one set of footsteps. Putting a finger up to his lips, Keaton crept closer and waited.

The goblin appeared at the mouth of the tunnel, the torch giving him a glimpse of ruddy brown-green skin that looked as tough — and dry — as an alligator’s. That descriptor wasn’t far off for the creature in general, actually. Its snout might not have been nearly as elongated, but it sported two rows of sharp teeth that didn’t quite fit in its mouth, a ridged head with nostrils higher on the nose than a standard humanoid, and webbed feet with talons at the end of each toe.

This one carried a torch as well as a bone club, the weapon resting lazily at his side, smacking against his hip as he walked. Even from here, Keaton caught the sulfuric scent of the swamp mixed with old, rancid meat. He had to stop himself from gagging.

As the goblin turned to resume his patrol, though, Keaton sprang into action. This wasn’t the hobgoblin he was supposed to use his special dungeon lord powers on, but it would be good practice for the real thing.

He moved swiftly and silently, creeping up behind the goblin in record speed. The only things he wasn’t able to control were his scent and his shadow, and the goblin seemed to notice both at the same time. As soon as it started to turn, though, Keaton was there. His skeletal gauntlet wrapped around the goblin, bone-clad fingers covering its mouth. The creature thrashed, surprisingly strong for its small frame, and he realized he… had no idea what to do.

“Do I say something?” he asked in a whispered hiss, panic hitting him hard.

“Just do what you did when you first interfaced with the crystal,” she said, eyes darting all about, “when you attuned it to you.”

He could only assume she didn’t mean the blood part, as she hadn’t told him about that. Keaton really didn’t know what else he’d done, though. Things had just happened.

Alright, just calm down. Think this through. Visualize the outcome just like you do with the crystal.

He did so, holding the struggling goblin with no lack of effort. The creature was unarmed, he noticed, and saw the dragonkin holding the bone club far away from her body. She must have wrested it away from him at some point.

Closing his eyes, Keaton forced himself to focus. He imagined holding one of those Anima crystals in his hand, but instead of crushing it, he drew it into himself; drew upon the energy and siphoned it so that it joined his own, becoming part of a whole.

At first, nothing happened. The goblin still struggled, his calls for help muffled beneath Keaton’s hand. But slowly he felt something pull into him. It crept up on his consciousness at first, just a fuzzy note of acceptance on the edges. Then it slammed into him all at once, overwhelming his senses as a massive surge of raw power hit him.

It felt like he was on his fifth drink of fire water, but without any of the staggering loopiness. He was invincible, lifeblood surging through his veins, his heart pumping double time just to keep up. It was that moment of accomplishment after trying so hard; standing at the top of a mountain and realizing everything else was so far below, and nothing would ever feel so spectacular. It was that moment right after denying himself the chance to come, when orgasm exploded over him, his entire sense of self concentrated in that one instant.

It was the most amazing feeling Keaton had ever known… and also the worst, because he knew how it ended. Five drinks of fire water meant he was barely conscious the next morning, with even the mere act of existing causing him pain. The climb to the top of a mountain was always followed by the long trudge back down. And an amazing orgasm came seconds before those feelings of regret rushed in, making him wonder why he even chased such highs in the first place.

It felt good, but it was destined to feel worse. And when Keaton really thought about what he was doing, he knew the low would never be worth the high.

He pulled back, ripping his hand away, but it was too late. Vacant eyes stared up at him, a tendril of drool seeping out of the goblin’s mouth.

“What does master command?” it asked in a raspy voice, looking at him with less life in its eyes than a drone.

“Gods, what have I done,” he mumbled, staring back at the creature in horror.

This was a sentient, sapient being. It had a life. A job. People it cared about and wanted to protect. Now it was… nothing. Its brain was just jelly inside its skull, stirred around by Keaton’s careless fingers.

“Lord Keaton, we must—”

The dragonkin’s words were interrupted by the pounding of several pairs of feet. Goblins thundered through a nearby tunnel, and only now did Keaton hear the sound of an alarm in the distance. They’d been seen, and he hadn’t even realized it.

And now — armed with only a dagger, a bone club, and a near catatonic goblin — they were going to be surrounded.

13

Keaton brandished his dagger, for all the good it would do, and put himself in front of the dragonkin.

“If this gets dicey, make a run for it,” he told her. “I’ll be fine.”

“I—”

She wasn’t able to complete the thought. A party of goblins lumbered into the hallway, led by a larger, fatter one that Keaton assumed must be a hobgoblin. It did have a more elongated snout, and its mouth foamed with a putrid stench he could smell from where he was standing. Its dry, scaly skin was slick with it, too. A massive bone mallet was in its hands, the impacting ends made of skulls that had been shaved down — or beaten down — to a smooth surface.

“You make the wrong choice, human,” it said, its raspy voice carrying through the tunnel.

Keaton’s instinct was to create a distraction and then run for it, but it wasn’t just him here. He’d asked the dragonkin to accompany him. He couldn’t put her in harm’s way. He just needed some kind of exit strategy that he could communicate to her, and then—

“You not hurt master! I kill!” came the hiss of his new minion, the goblin leaping in front of him and brandishing its torch, since the club was still with the dragonkin.

“Whoa, okay little buddy, calm down there,” Keaton began.

“A traitor? We gut you and feed you to the mushrooms like the filth you are,” the hobgoblin snarled.

Maybe this was an opening. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could talk his way out of this.

“He’s not a traitor. Not by choice. He’s now under the command of Dungeon Lord Keaton, a minion of The Labyrinth.”

The hobgoblin’s eyes widened, his gaze snapping to Keaton. He gave him a once-over, though, and laughed. “You? You not dungeon lord. Too scrawny.”

“Mages don’t have to be bulky,” he said, extending the gauntlet-clad hand.

Please let this work, he thought as he concentrated on somehow making that same aura from before.

There was a gasp through the crowd of goblins, and they were all looking at his arm. Because of the gauntlet, or…? Ah. Nope. It’d worked. His whole arm radiated dark energy.

The hobgoblin was still just staring at him, though, his muscular arms tense; ready to swing that mallet for all he was worth.

Keaton needed more to sell this particular grift. Looking back at his companion, he said the first thing that came to mind.

“And it’s not as if I need bulk. You probably don’t even know what you’re looking at right now, do you?”

Her eyes widened, but Keaton turned back to the hobgoblin.

“Pair of outsiders whose bones aren’t even fit to grind,” the large creature said, letting out a bellowing laugh. The other goblins joined in a nervous fit, sounding almost like the cackle of hyenas.

“You fool,” he said with gusto. Maybe too much gusto. “She is the granddaughter of the very Ancient Dragon who roamed these swamps, and she’s come to reclaim her territory.”

He turned to the dragonkin, whose eyes were still wide. She looked from him to the goblins, and Keaton was pretty sure he’d just doomed them both.

“Um… Yes! Yes, I am the granddaughter of Xeiryniss, Lord of the Swamp, and I bring a, um… a terrible curse! Rawr!”

She “sold it” by curling her hands as if they were claws and baring her teeth, her tail thrashing out behind her.

Yep. They were doomed. Time for plan B.

He heard nervous whispers coming from the goblins, though. They’d hunkered together, some of them clutching necklaces that were made of various teeth.

“What if it true?” he heard one “whisper” to the hobgoblin.

“Humans lie,” their leader snarled in return.

But Keaton saw the fear in his beady little eyes, and that was enough. It was a way in. He could sell this for just a little longer, and maybe…

Maybe he could do it his way.

“I came here in search of strong minions. You all know how that works, right?” Several of the goblins nodded. One cowered behind the hobgoblin. “This one was easy to overpower. I’m sure almost all of you would be, too, but I have another idea. A better idea, if you’ll listen. One that can help appease the Ancient Dragon.”

The hobgoblin’s gaze narrowed, thick brow ridge pushing down over his eyes. He looked to the dragonkin, and Keaton silently prayed to every god he could name.

“He is far more generous than I would be, mortal,” she said, in a voice that was level and surprisingly intimidating. “Take what he offers. You will not get a second chance.”

The hobgoblin gave a derisive snort, but Keaton could see he wasn’t willing to meet the dragonkin’s eyes. “I am listening.”

“Come work for me,” he said. “Become a minion of The Labyrinth, by choice. Help me build the dungeon from the ground up, and you’ll be rewarded. Provided food, shelter, and a portion of whatever the dungeon brings in.”

The hobgoblin looked at him suspiciously. “You could do what you did to him,” he nodded to the goblin who still stood between then. “Maybe harder to do it to me, but possible. Why this?”

Yes, why was he doing this? He had the power to have minions who followed him unquestioningly, and he was turning it down in favor of… what? Paid labor?

“Because this…” he looked at the pathetic creature who stood in front of him, willing to harm his family. Willing to die for someone he didn’t even know or care about. “This isn’t how I want to run my dungeon. These aren’t the people I want helping me. Everyone who works in The Labyrinth will do so by choice, or not at all.”

Keaton held his breath as the hobgoblin looked at him, gaze unwavering. He extended his skeletal-clad hand for the creature to shake and arched one brow in question.

After what seemed like an eternity, the hobgoblin reached out and grasped his outstretched hand.

“We work for you then, Lord Keaton. So long as there is food, we stay. Food is gone, we are gone.”

“That’s fair,” Keaton said, letting out a breath of relief.

It worked. His plan actually worked, and he was gaining a lot more minions for his trouble.

…Now he just had to figure out what to feed them.

14

The Labyrinth has gained new minions.

The Labyrinth has acquired the allegiance of:

1 hobgoblin

2 goblin warriors

2 goblin scouts

4 goblin workers

The Labyrinth has reached level 1.

The information was revealed to him as soon as he set foot in the dungeon with his minions. He was almost afraid it wouldn’t work — that Anima wouldn’t recognize minions he hadn’t actually mind controlled — but no. A verbal agreement was apparently enough, which made Keaton feel a lot better about the whole thing.

He walked with a lighter step, the dragonkin at his side. She hadn’t stopped staring at him since they left the cave.

“What?” he finally asked, glancing over at her.

“N-nothing, my lord, I just… I didn’t expect this.” She looked at him with a softness in her eyes that Keaton couldn’t make heads or tails of. “You’re like no dungeon lord I’ve ever met.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you?”

She giggled, pulling that bottom lip between her teeth again. “It’s a compliment, Lord Keaton. I assure you.”

He accepted it as such, then, and brought his new minions to the heart of his burgeoning dungeon. The hobgoblin, Orbon, had a few things to say about all the amenities it lacked, but he barked orders to the others, and they started building beds from the materials the drones had continued to gather once they woke up.

They built so quickly, in fact, that Keaton had a hard time staying ahead of them. He interfaced with the crystal and put in an order for more beds. Once the first two were put into the chamber he’d assigned for them, he was told by Anima that a Small Bedchamber had been created. Raising that to four beds made it a Medium Bedchamber.

“You… may wish to give the goblins their own place to sleep, my lord,” the dragonkin put in as he weighed out his options.

“Good call.”

Close one, too. He wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep in the middle of a clan of goblins who’d been ready to bash his brains in earlier that night. He had the drones dig out another room for it, then ordered enough beds to cover his new minions, creating his first Barracks.

After that came the issue of food production.

“Goblins eat mushrooms and rotten meat,” the dragonkin explained when he solicited help. “We’ll have trouble getting meat here — unless you sacrifice some of them for butchery — but the mushrooms will be easy to grow.”

And they could live off of mushrooms for now, too. Keaton had lived off of much worse in his life. Mushrooms at least tasted like something, unlike the slop he’d been force fed at the orphanage.

With his companion’s help, he interfaced with the crystal and had the drones carve out space in a particularly damp chamber. They build a large wooden box that took up most of that chamber, then he sent them just outside — as far as they could go without disappearing, the dragonkin told him — to fetch some soil, as well as dead leaves and twigs.

With a suitable home for them built, the mushrooms were started, and Keaton kept behind enough of what the drones had found to split between the denizens of The Labyrinth. It wasn’t much. Once everything was distributed, he had one large cap to eat, along with a clump of cave moss his goblin scout assured him was good to eat.

It was enough to curb the hunger pains, but Keaton was exhausted. He’d built a bedroom, a barracks, and a mushroom farm, and he’d gained a bunch of new minions without having to brainwash most of them. It felt like a productive first day.

“I’m beat,” he told the dragonkin, pulling back from the crystal. He’d just given the order for the drones to clear a few more rooms. “I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh. Of course.” She wouldn’t look at him, her lip drawn between her teeth again, one of her fangs snagging it. “Lord Keaton?”

“Yes?”

“Where… should I sleep? I can stay neat the crystal if you prefer. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, and I—”

Keaton just blinked at her. “There are plenty of beds. Just sleep in the room I’m staying in.” Something clicked in his mind and he felt like an idiot. Not for the first time. “Oh. Shit, you probably want privacy, huh? I can—”

“No!” A firm assertion from her, once more. She might not have been intimidating most of the time, but that made Keaton snap to attention. “No, I…” Her cheeks were scarlet again and he canted his head. “I feel safer with you. If you would not mind my presence, I would like to stay in the same room.”

Keaton flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Of course.”

She smiled back at him in that pretty way, and Keaton felt his heart give a strange little thump. She really did have a lovely smile. It did something to her that seemed to bring more light into her features; more confidence, even.

Or maybe he was just over-tired and seeing things.

Either way, Keaton headed down the hall to his room — their room, he supposed — and picked out a bed first on her insistence. He collapsed into it, barely even hearing the furs shift and rustle as she climbed into the bed near him.

He did hear one last thing, though. A whisper that was only meant for him.

“Lord Keaton?”

“Mm?” he turned over. Or rather, flopped over.

“I think… I think I’ve settled on a name.”

He gave her his full attention, fighting back exhaustion.

“Adriana. You may call me Adriana,” she said, reaching up to tuck a strand of raven hair behind her slim, pointed ear. “It’s… the first name I remember being called. By my mother, I think.”

Keaton gave her a soft, sleepy smile. “Adriana. I like it. It suits you.”

Even in the darkness, he saw the flush that came to her cheeks. She looked away from him, settling onto the pallet. “Goodnight, Lord Keaton.”

“Goodnight, Adriana.”

Over the next several days, Keaton’s dungeon grew.

The goblins were good workers. They even managed to catch some kind of reptile, bringing back the eggs intact — thanks to the dragonkin’s intervention — to try and raise in a hatchery. Keaton had it built straight away, as another source of food could only be a good thing. It turned out those little things had a pretty quick hatch time, too. Soon there were lots of little lizards running around the hatchery. Most of them even managed to survive the rumbling stomachs of his goblin forces. For now.

Anima also informed him that he’d made good progress.

The Labyrinth has reached level 2.

“That seems fast,” he said, looking to Adriana. “I guess we must be doing the right thing.”

“It will slow down,” she said with a small smile, “but we are doing the right thing. The three pillars — food production, defense for the crystal, and a place to rest — have gotten us to this point, now that they’ve advanced.”

That was right. This morning he’d been notified that the barracks had been upgraded to a Minor Goblin Hovel. Adriana had just explained that meant it was specifically suited for goblins. One glance in the room showed why: They’d decorated it with all manner of bones, had a cauldron in the center cooking up some kind of noxious stew, and had the cave floor covered with swamp peat that tracked muddy footprints through the rest of the dungeon.

But Anima revealed their specialized hovel made them more well rested, which undoubtedly made them better workers, so he wasn’t going to complain.

The upgrade to the food production must have helped, as well. Likely him adding a choke point to get to the crystal and a very shoddy catapult that launched stones toward intruders helped, too. But where did they go from here?

“Any recommendations for what we should build next?”

“You’ll need workshops for more advanced builds,” she told him. “Starting with a forge seems most prudent, but you may also want a carpenter’s shop and a tannery.”

“Hmm. I think I can pull something together. Let’s start with the forge.”

That one was easy for him. They’d made a dedicated space on the wall to draw out blueprints — much better than the floor which was now covered in muddy footprints — and Keaton had honed down proper chalk, with a stick of charcoal to add accents.

He sketched the forge he’d worked at from memory, making adjustments to account for the fact that it was underground. The smoke needed someplace to go, after all, and there was a little more room for things to spread out. For the most part it contained the same key components as the shop where he’d done his apprenticeship, though. Forge, anvil, bellows, water trough, and lots of tables and storage.

Adriana made her own adjustments, specifically to the system for delivering smoke outside. There was apparently a way to do it that was less conspicuous from the exterior, pumping smoke into the already hazy swamp. Once she signed off on it, he had the drones build what they could, then called upon his goblin forces who were far more content with their meal of lizard meat, eggs, and mushrooms than just the mushrooms alone.

A Forge has been created in The Labyrinth. New builds are now available.

He was tempted to dive right into those new builds, but he restrained himself and instead had the goblins work on a carpentry workshop and a tannery first. That took the better part of three days, all told, and Keaton spent that time making plans for everything they’d need. Weapons. Armor. Stronger defenses. More furniture, since this place was… bare.

“If I’m going to start production on all these things, I probably need more minions, huh?”

Keaton sat back in his chair, pushing away from the stone table he’d had the drones create in what was essentially now the war room he shared with Adriana.

“You will, and soon. The goblins are being worked to capacity, my lord.”

His brow furrowed. He’d noticed that, too. Around the time they finished the carpentry workshop, they started getting sluggish.

“It’s not in a minion’s best interest to work on so many different tasks. You have all of the goblins building with various materials, scouting the tunnels for resources with the drones, scouring the swamps above us for anything salvageable… it’s too much.”

Keaton let himself indulge in a full frown then, but that unfortunately seemed to send the wrong message.

“I apologize, Lord Keaton. I shouldn’t speak out of turn, I—”

“No, I value your opinion. You’re my right-hand woman right now,” he said with a chuckle. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

“But I’m not a lieutenant,” she muttered quietly.

He just scoffed. “Who says you aren’t? You’re helping me manage my troops. That seems pretty lieutenant-y to me.”

She looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. The instant she blinked, though, that hope was gone. “No, you do not understand. A lieutenant is… something special. Someone who brings certain powers to you and is given powers in return. They must be officially recognized as such, and I am not a lieutenant.”

He nearly suggested just making her one but closed his mouth before that level of idiocy left him. If it were that easy, she would have said so. It occurred to him, too, that she might not want to be one. Maybe there was a cost associated with it. Maybe that’s what she’d been so upset about when they first met.

“…Is that what Lord Havron wanted to do with you? Make you his lieutenant?”

She let out such a dry, bitter laugh that for a moment, Keaton wasn’t even sure the sound was coming from her.

“No, of course not. I am not fit to be a lieutenant.”

“Why not?”

She must not have expected the question, because she looked at him as if she intended to stare right through his soul. It made Keaton squirm a little, and not in a good way.

“A lieutenant is someone who is strong. Someone who has a specialty the dungeon lord can rely on. Someone who can lead forces of her own and give commands under his rule. I am not that person, Lord Keaton, and I never will be.”

“I think you could, if you wanted to.” Her laughter followed, and Keaton was quick to say, “I’m serious! You’re smart, Adriana. This dungeon has been your home inside and out, so you know it better than any upstart lord is ever going to know it. And maybe you’re lacking in confidence right now, but you’ve already come out of your shell a little. I think you could lead.”

“If I have come out of my shell it is only because of you.”

Her eyes met his and Keaton felt that strange thump again, as if his heart had tripped over a beat. There was something there, that same thread of electricity that sparked between them when they touched.

She broke that current by looking away, and Keaton felt… cold, all of a sudden, as if all the warmth had been stolen from the room.

“I… thank you for the compliments, Lord Keaton, but you must trust me.” She stood from the table, the stone chair scraping out behind her. “I think I will… go check on the minions.”

He watched her go, confusion his only real basis for how to feel about all of this. Something was going on with her, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

That’s fine. It’s none of my business anyway.

True, but a weak reassurance. He wanted to know, and if she ever trusted him enough to tell him he’d gladly listen.

For now, though, he needed to make a plan to get some more minions. Then he could assign specific jobs, and everything could function like a well-oiled machine.

Hopefully.

That night, Keaton fell into bed to the sound of Adriana already asleep and softly snoring. It was cute, honestly. Just a little rumble that sounded almost like a growl. Or a baby dragon testing out its roar. Occasionally she hit a stride that started to wreak havoc on his eardrums, but she always went back down to cute. At this point, it was what replaced the sounds of the city to help him fall asleep.

His eyes were closed, and he felt himself on the cusp of doing so when he noticed another presence in the room. He pinpointed it immediately, that ethereal yet distinctly ominous energy he’d only experienced from one person.

“What do you want,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Adriana.

If she could even hear him. For all he knew, the daemon put some kind of enchantment around them when she visited.

“Is that any way to speak to your patron, Lord Keaton? Especially when I only want what any lonely girl wants.”

Her voice was husky; silky smooth and poured like warm honey over his senses. He could feel his body respond, especially when she materialized right in front of him wearing nothing at all. Her golden skin absolutely flawless, glistening with what looked to be oil in the torch light. Pert, round breasts bounced as she prowled closer to him, her nipples pebbled into firm peaks. He wanted to roll one between his fingers, wanted to close his lips around one and suck.

Gods, he hadn’t been in the mood before, but as soon as the daemon showed up, he felt this undeniable urge, like a thirst he’d been denying for ages. His cock did more than stir. He was already firming up in his trousers, tenting the loose fabric.

That drew her attention, and she licked her lips.

“Mm. You do know how to provide, don’t you?”

“What are you—”

A futile question, even before she knelt at the side of his bed and placed her hand over his bulge, long fingers squeezing around his shaft. Keaton shuddered, biting back a groan.

“Did you just come here to—”

She reached into his trousers and pulled out his aching cock, giving him a firm stroke from base to tip.

“To what, darling? Use your words.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do than satisfy your lust,” he managed, breathless.

“What could be better than this?” she purred, applying pressure with her thumb and forefinger as she stroked him again. “Sensuality is core to my being. I am not beyond indulging in the flesh, and you should be grateful I’ve chosen to indulge in yours.”

Her laugh was low and seductive as she eyed his cock. Fully hard now, the girth of it large in her hand. Her thumb followed the thick vein underneath, then traveled up to the crown, swiping a drop of precum from his slit.

She lifted it to her lips and hummed her approval. Keaton bit back a moan, his body feeling as if it was on fire. He wasn’t so far gone as to not be aware of his surroundings, though. Glancing over to Adriana’s bed, he tried to focus enough to hear her snoring again. An inexplicable pang of guilt hit him.

The daemon just laughed again.

“Oh? What’s this? Does my dungeon lord want another?”

She pulled away from him and a sudden panic gripped Keaton as she glided to where Adriana slept. She wouldn’t… hurt her, would she? She couldn’t. Gods, he hoped she couldn’t. He wasn’t equipped to fight a daemon.

“She’s pretty, if you go for that wide-eyed, innocent routine.” Her lips pursed, amusement lighting in her eyes as she looked back to Keaton. “Which you clearly do.”

Either Adriana was a very heavy sleeper, or his assumption had been right: She couldn’t hear the daemon. He watched as she strode back over to him, full of confidence. Her tits bounced, hips swung, and as soon as she grew close enough to touch, Keaton found himself mesmerized again.

“Don’t worry,” she said, running the tip of her finger along the bridge of his nose before tapping him. “I don’t mind. I get something out of it either way.”

As he watched, she began to change. Golden skin turned to peach, silver scales accenting smooth skin. Her sharp, exotic features became rounder; softer, even despite the horns she sprouted, along with the wings, tail, and clawed feet.

“Is this better for you? My lord?” she purred in Adriana’s voice.

Right before she sunk to her knees at his bedside and ran her tongue along the underside of his cock.

Gods help him, it was. Even if it was just a fantasy, he felt that want pulse through him, making his balls tighten. Looking into Adriana’s wide, golden eyes as she licked him from base to head was an unparalleled experience. And when she took the head into her mouth, sucking loudly, messily, her saliva running down his cock…

He could have come just from that.

Keaton steeled himself, though, drawing in a sharp breath and holding it. He knew it wasn’t real, he knew it. The real Adriana was sleeping feet away from him right now. But the illusion was convincing, enveloping him in a warm haze that did strange things to his mind. Things like making him reach down to grasp her horns, his fingers curling around them and gripping tightly as she drew him into her mouth, sinking all the way down until she gagged.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his head falling back.

As much as he wanted to watch this, he wouldn’t last long looking into those golden eyes. Not when they were casting such devotion up at him. Not when he could see her forked tongue (put in) laving over the head of his cock.

She took him in again, not as deep this time, and fell into a rhythm that she aided with her hand, pumping his shaft at the same time. A moan caught in Keaton’s throat, threatening to spill past his lips before her hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes widened and he followed her gaze to Adriana’s bed.

She’d stirred enough to roll over, her tail twitching off the side of the pallet.

Shit. She can hear us. Or at least me.

He swallowed his next sounds, eyes rolling back in his head as the image of Adriana sucked him greedily, as if she intended to milk him dry. His precum made her lips glisten, her vigorous sucking coloring them bee sting red. He watched her throat work, watched the way his cock pushed against her cheek when she drew him in, watched her long tongue snake down to lap at his balls.

“Close,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

Her eyes glinted with mischief, and he was positive she would pull away and leave him wanting yet again. She did still, but instead of drawing back, she looked up at him with that wide-eyed innocence, an undercurrent of wicked desire running through the golden depths.

Keaton understood.

Gripping her horns tighter, he thrust into her mouth. Shallow at first, then deeper, once she proved she could take it. She moaned around his cock, stealing Adriana’s sweet tones, and Keaton couldn’t help himself. He came hard, his cock jerking inside her mouth, a jet of hot cum painting the back of her throat. It was all he could do to get his hand up in time to bite down and stifle his cry.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, though, watching as “Adriana” swallowed almost every last drop. She allowed some to escape, his cum dribbling past her lips and down her chin. Dainty fingers wiped it away and she drew the digits into her mouth, sucking noisily and releasing them with a loud pop.

Keaton fell back on the bed, chest heaving, hand resting over his racing heart. Gods. What had he just done? What had he allowed to happen? His head lolled to one side and he looked at Adriana. Still asleep. Unsuspecting. Unaware that he was apparently harboring these fantasies about her.

“She’s lying to you.” The daemon’s voice — and form — was her own as she floated into his periphery.

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled, turning away from her.

She appeared in a puff of smoke, right in front of him again, a pout on her lips. “Is that any way to talk to someone who just had your big, thick cock in her mouth?”

He didn’t want this. These false platitudes, this woman who had no real interest in him as a person. This daemon was the epitome of every bad decision he’d ever made with women — someone who just wanted to use him.

“Listen to me, Keaton.” Her tone was more severe now, her eyes glowing with a red mist. “You need more power. You need to go out and conquer. That is part of our pact.”

“Horseshit,” he said, glowering at her. “Our ‘pact’ was—”

“Your innocent little lamb is lying to you. Keeping secrets from you,” she hissed.

And so what if she was? He wasn’t her master or her lord, despite what she said. She didn’t owe him anything.

Even still, he couldn’t help thinking of Elena, and the secret she’d kept that had landed him here.

“Ask her about it.” The daemon’s lips pulled into a smile that was too large for her face. “You’ll see.”

She tapped his nose with the tip of her finger, then she was gone, evaporating into a mist that stung Keaton’s eyes. Leaving him with the suspicion that maybe he’d just traded his old life for more of the same.

15

Keaton didn’t wait. He didn’t try to play passive aggressive or give her a chance to fess up on her own. When they met in the war room the next morning, he immediately confronted her.

“What aren’t you telling me, Adriana?”

She’d been smiling when she came into the room, but that fell away, and fear stole across her features instead. “Wh-what? What do you mean, Lord Keaton? I’m not—”

“I’m not mad.” It wasn’t technically a lie. He wasn’t mad. Just hurt. “But I know there’s something you’re keeping from me. Something about…”

What was it she’d said? You need to get more powerful?

“Something that has to do with advancing my power.”

While Adriana had looked confused and terrified before, he saw recognition spark in her golden eyes this time. Her pupils dilated and she looked away from him, hands fidgeting in front of her. Her face was pale, making those silver scales stand out even more.

“I’m…” she swallowed, her brows drawing close together.

“Adriana.” Keaton drew in a breath and tried to push aside his own feelings. He stepped closer to her but stopped when she yelped and backed away. “Hey, hold on. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I just want the truth.”

She looked up at him, searching his eyes. Her bottom lip quivered, but she sniffed and squared her jaw, giving a resolute nod. “Yes. Of course. You deserve that much.”

Nodding toward the crystal, she navigated around him to move toward it. “There’s more you can do with the crystal. You interface with it now to access its knowledge and create new things in your dungeon, but you can also… siphon energy from it.”

Keaton’s brows shot up. “Siphon energy? Like… what I did with that goblin?”

He still hadn’t figured out what to do with the poor thing. The scout was inclined to follow Keaton’s every order, to work until he dropped from exhaustion or lack of water. There was no way Keaton could micromanage all of that.

“Not exactly. You were taking something from him, but also giving something of yourself. With this, you simply take the crystal’s energy into yourself. It… allows you to become more powerful. Helps you reach your full potential so that you can gain new skills and spells.”

Keaton stared at her, dumbfounded. “And you kept this from me? Why?”

She winced, ears drooping. “I… I was afraid you would use them on me. All the other dungeon lords have, and I didn’t want the power to somehow corrupt you.” She stared at the floor, her head bowed. “I am so sorry, Lord Keaton. I understand if you wish to banish me.”

“Banish you? What—”

He needed to take care with this; with her. The thought occurred to him as soon as he realized what she’d said about other dungeon lords. Of course she was afraid of him getting powers. Why wouldn’t she be?

Reaching out, Keaton gently slid two fingers beneath her chin. She flinched at his touch and he was prepared to draw back, but she looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

“I’m not going to banish you, Adriana. And I’m also not going to use any powers or anything else on you. I’ll never deliberately do anything to hurt you, and if I do it accidentally, I need you to tell me so I can make it right.”

Her chin trembled against his fingers, but she nodded.

“I get why you were scared. Honestly, this whole thing kinda scares me, too. I don’t even know what will happen to me if I do this. Or to you.” His brow furrowed. “You need to crystal to survive. Isn’t it going to hurt you if I siphon energy from it?”

For a long moment, she just stared at him, the two of them suspended in time. Eventually she shook her head, snapping out of it. “N-no. There is more than enough power in the crystal to sustain your advancement, the dungeon, and my own life force, so long as you’re careful.”

“So long as I don’t go crazy and draw out all of it, huh?” he asked with a grin.

She let out a giggle that dovetailed into a hiccup. “Even you could not survive that, my lord. I would not recommend it.”

The way she was smiling at him, the look in her eyes… it reminded him of last night. When she’d— No. When the daemon had used her likeness without her consent. When she’d glided those sweet lips over his cock, curled that devilish tongue beneath the head—

“Uh…” Keaton cleared his throat, looking away from her. “So how do I… how do I do this?”

“Oh, it starts the same way as interfacing with the crystal.” If she was aware of his awkwardness, she ignored it. Bless her. “You just have to imagine yourself drawing from it instead of just interacting with it.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

Stepping up to the crystal, Keaton let out a breath, rolled his shoulders, then lifted his gauntlet to the shimmering surface. He laid his palm flat against the smooth, fragile crystal, feeling its energy radiate beneath his hand. Closing his eyes, Keaton focused on drawing that energy into himself. Slowly he felt warmth gather in the tips of his fingers, his hand, his arm, until it flowed into his entire body.

His mind went blank, eyes rolling back in his head. Any image he might have had was replaced by a black void, text slowly scrawling across his consciousness.

Choose your advancement:

Survivability

Martial Skill

Spellcasting

Leadership

Survivability sounded the most useful. He selected that, looking at the new options.

Anima Barrier – When a severe impact would critically injure the dungeon lord, an Anima barrier triggers instead, absorbing the blow.

Improved Endurance – Grants the dungeon lord a greater reserve of stamina, allowing them to perform physical activities for longer.

Improved Speed – Grants the dungeon lord more speed, allowing them to sprint faster, dodge easier, and perform tasks more quickly.

Improved Brawn – Grants the dungeon lord a sturdier frame that is more resistant to being knocked back or down and increases the amount of damage they can take.

Resistance to Disease – The dungeon lord becomes immune to common, minor diseases, and highly resistant to more complex diseases.

Resistance to Poison – The dungeon lord becomes immune to minor poison, and highly resistant to more potent poison.

Resistance to Element – The dungeon lord chooses an element. They gain resistance to its extreme effects.

Improved Reflexes – Anima provides a sixth sense, allowing the dungeon lord to more quickly react to danger.

All of those sounded useful, honestly, though some were more situational. Keaton kept them in mind as he browsed the other categories. He skimmed Leadership for now, as the talents there looked more appropriate for a dungeon lord who had lots of minions. Spellcasting was something he wanted to do more of, but the options were so limited. Probably because of his current level.

Martial skill was much more noteworthy and would help him more in his current situation. There were basic combat talents there, and Keaton decided to pick up Disarm, a talent that did exactly what it said on the tin – helped him disarm his opponents through a quick strike. He also picked up Improved Speed and Improved Brawn for now, planning to grab a couple more from that category as soon as he could.

When he pulled his hand away from the crystal, Keaton felt… different. Spryer. Agile. But also tougher. Physically, even his body felt different. It moved in a different way, with a more graceful flow than he was used to; with muscle development he wasn’t used to.

“I didn’t know the changes would be… instant,” he said, resting a hand against his stomach. He was sure his abs hadn’t been this firm yesterday.

“The crystal is a direct source of Anima, and it’s incredibly potent,” Adriana said, though her gaze was on his chest.

“Is something wrong?” Keaton asked, amusement in his tone.

“N-no!” A blush stole across her cheeks and she looked away. “I am sorry, my lord, but perhaps once we get new minions, one of them can be assigned to sewing you some new clothes. That tunic is very tight now. As are the trousers.”

The last she seemed to say to herself, though Keaton heard it. Looking down, he noticed his thighs had definitely gotten bigger, stretching the limits of the fabric. That stretch made his bulge all the more prominent, too. Keaton joined Adriana in blushing.

“I picked up a few skills that should help when we go to recruit more minions,” he said, clearing his throat.

“That is good, though you will still need at least one lieutenant. And, ah… about that—”

Before she could say anything more, a horn blared high above them, the sound of stamping feet dislodging pebbles and dirt from the ceiling.

16

Keaton clutched his dagger as he made his way topside, wishing he’d already had the goblins working on some better arms. They were stretched thin, but there was always the chance this would happen, right? That they would be attacked straight away?

And what did he have to defend himself? A dagger and the brainwashed goblin scout who insisted on accompanying him.

“Am sorry, Lord Keaton! Scout was sleeping, not start patrol yet. This Scout’s fault,” he moaned, dragging his feet behind Keaton.

“Everyone needs sleep,” Keaton said, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll just… figure it out now.”

Gods, if only he’d taken that talent that was supposed to allow him to see outside of his dungeon. It seemed slightly less important than making himself tougher and more able to withstand an attack, but now he saw those things went hand in hand.

Adriana accompanied him, much to his surprise, and squeezed through the tight tunnel to be by his side. “I do not believe this is an attack, Lord Keaton. The Heroes’ Guild should not know where you are, and Lord Havron was not established enough for them to send a party.”

The Heroes’ Guild. How could he have forgotten about them? Asshole mercenaries who did whatever the guild paid them to do and charged a premium for it with the people they supposedly “liberated,” too. A fee for saving someone’s life, when they were already getting paid. Fucking pretentious dicks, the lot of them.

Never mind that he’d desperately wanted to be one of them when he was a boy. He’d seen them for the exploitative fakes they really were.

“What do you think this is, then?”

“I’m… not entirely sure,” she admitted, her ears drooping. “Should we bring the other goblins up?”

“No. If we need to lead them away from here, best to do it in a way that doesn’t cause any casualties.”

“…You really aren’t like any dungeon lord I’ve ever met.”

This time Keaton recognized it for the compliment it was. His lips twitched into a grin. “Thanks.”

As they moved through the twisting tunnels, the horn just kept blaring, the raucous sound blasting off of the walls and pounding against his eardrums. The closer they drew to the surface, the more he heard this strange, roaring sound that accompanied the horn blast.

Then, as they reached the mouth, a woman’s voice boomed from out in the swamp.

“Face me, dungeon lord! Or are you so craven as to hide behind your walls?”

“Who is that?” Keaton asked, not surprised by Adriana’s shrug.

He had something resembling an answer once he stepped out into the morning light. The sun blared down through the treetops, giving the murky swamp a glowing cast of green. In the center of the muck, fanned out around one of the few dry “islands,” several women stood.

No, not women. Goddesses. Tall — six feet, at least — toned, and each sporting massive, curling horns in black, bronze, gold, and pure white.

They were arranged equally, almost in military formation, each of them holding a bronze kite shield and a polearm. Some carried spears, some carried halberds, but they all looked especially well made and ready to run someone through.

“I’m the lord of this dungeon. What’s all this about?” Keaton called.

The blaring stopped, and he heard a laugh coming from the center of the circle. Stepping out into the marsh, he saw a woman who rose above the others. A good half foot taller than them, her form athletic and obviously built for combat. As he moved closer, he saw that in addition to large bronze-plated horns that curled down close to long, soft, folded ears, her body was also painted in a soft, fawn brown and a lighter tan that ran down the middle of her torso, disappearing into leathers that crisscrossed over the woman’s pelvis and thighs, stopping just above the knee to reveal powerful legs that flared into hooves.

To Keaton’s blatant surprise, he hadn’t immediately noticed the fact that she barely had anything up top. Her breasts were painted in the same way, that pale color that darkened to brown, with a hint of a darker shade marking her large areolas. Only her nipples were covered, a harness crossing over her breasts with a bronze ring at the center.

Like the others — all women, he noted — she held onto a halberd that was almost as tall as she was. Unlike them, she wasn’t using a shield.

“Are you certain you are Dungeon Lord Havron? You have far less meat on your bones than I would have guessed.”

Her voice, while booming, was pleasant. There was an earthy tone to it, a deep, gravely undercurrent that Keaton could only describe as sensual.

“Havron is dead,” he yelled back, stepping into the swamp and immediately regretting it. His feet sank into the muck. “I killed him.”

“You?”

She snorted derisively, Keaton’s pride flaring up in response. “Did you just come here to insult me, or do you actually want something?”

“Well, you have a mouth on you, dungeon lord, I’ll give you that.” She strode toward the edge of the circle and the women in her way parted immediately.

Steeling his nerves, Keaton trudged through the swamp to meet her. The second he set foot on non-squishy ground, though, Scout leapt between him and the horned woman. He brandished his bone club, his jaws snapping.

“You want hurt Lord Keaton, you hurt me first!” he snarled.

Keaton dragged a palm over his face. “Stand down, Scout.”

The woman grinned down at him, her eyes hooded, long lashes sweeping down to her cheeks. “What a loyal pet you’ve got there. Doesn’t speak well for your fighting prowess if this is all you can muster for defense, though.” Her gaze moved past Keaton to where he was sure Adriana stood. “Unless you’ve got some power you’re not showing yet, hm, pretty?”

“Leave her be,” he said, finding a tone that was deeper and more threatening than any he’d used before.

Her gaze returned to him, a smile curving her lips. “Protective, are you? We’ll see if you can back up the talk.”

Despite the fact that he was surrounded, outnumbered, and the obvious target of at least twenty polearms, Keaton was growing impatient with this.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Cassia, and I have come here on behalf of my tribe to challenge you to an honorable duel.”

Keaton just blinked up at her, realizing for the first time that it wasn’t body paint coloring her skin like that. She was covered in short hairs that looked so soft to the touch. Part of him was tempted to reach out and stroke that flat stomach of hers. Another part of him wanted to be crushed between her thighs. And still another part wanted to bend this giant of a woman over and—

Gods, he was terrible.

“But… why? Wait, you were looking for Lord Havron. Did he piss you off or something?”

Adriana cleared her throat, appearing at his side. “Um, my lord. It is customary for Emvola tribes to challenge new dungeon lords to—”

“Decide if they’re worth our time. You’re right, pretty,” Cassia purred before returning her attention to Keaton. “I am here to face the lord of this dungeon, whoever they may be.”

“If you just want to test yourself, then… this isn’t a duel to the death?”

She scoffed at him, looking indignant. Adriana groaned softly.

Okay, I guess that was the wrong thing to say…

“I don’t know where you’re from, new lord, but an honorable duel is just that. A duel. With honor. Wounds are superficial and will be healed by my herbalist. We will consider the duel well fought when third blood is reached and declare whoever reached it the winner.”

“Why not first blood?” Keaton asked, wanting to kick himself.

“Because I will draw first blood in a matter of seconds, and I’d like this to last a bit longer than that.”

He swore that look she gave him was sexual in nature; the way her gaze slowly raked down his body. When she stopped at his bulge, he was sure of it.

Keaton gulped, and tried to think his body out of an obvious reaction. “Alright, I’ll duel you to third blood. But things seem a little one-sided here. I’ve only just started, and this is the only weapon I have.”

He pulled out the dagger, holding it out so she could see.

“Not a problem. My tribe will provide you with proper attire and a weapon fit for our duel.” She flashed him a grin. “Come, into the circle. Your minions can join us, as well.”

“Adriana isn’t—”

The words were practically knocked out of him as Cassia smacked him right between the shoulder blades, ushering him toward the circle. She was almost a foot taller than him and in far, far better shape. Strong, too, considering he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. He had no idea how he was going to hold his own in this duel let alone win, but… what was even the point?

Hands were all over him as he moved through the ring of Cassias, but he realized after some confusion that they were buckling armor onto him. It was a little big, but obviously made for a human male. Heavy, too, some kind of half-plate design with a long chain shirt underneath.

A spear was thrust into his hand, the fingers of his gauntlet curling around it as if it was made specifically for him. It wasn’t perfectly balanced, but close enough that Keaton could work with it. Assuming he could figure out how to properly… use a polearm. He’d only ever fought with swords, daggers, and the occasional bow. Polearms didn’t exactly lend themselves to stealth.

“Stand before me when you are ready, and I will explain the terms,” Cassia bellowed.

Keaton let out a long breath. The armor pressed down on his ribs, but the extra brawn he’d gained from those talents seemed to help with his stamina. He could only hope they would hold up in actual combat. Duel or not, he doubted this woman was going to hold back.

Glancing to the sidelines briefly, his gaze sought out Adriana. He gave her a soft nod of reassurance, then stepped before Cassia.

“I’m ready,” he declared, forcing a confidence he didn’t really feel.

“We will fight until third blood, as I’ve stated. No magic,” she warned, narrowing her eyes. “And all wounds should be superficial. Accidents happen, dungeon lord, but if you try and gut me, I will castrate you and feed your cock to your pets.”

“I—”

“Should you make a good showing in this duel, I will agree to serve as your lieutenant, and my tribe will become your minions under my direct command. We will offer a standing army as well as skilled leatherworkers, herbalists, and cooks.”

Ah, so that was the purpose of this duel. A way to make sure he was strong enough for her to follow. Made sense.

“What if I win?”

The other Emvola started to laugh, a chorus of it all around him. Cassia, however, didn’t laugh. She looked down at him with a gleam in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

“I like your confidence, foolish as it may be. I hope you make a good showing.” She winked at him, then raised her voice to her normal level so the others could hear. “If you do not impress me, I will take my forces elsewhere, and we will meet again on the battlefield. Do you agree to these terms, dungeon lord?”

“I agree,” Keaton said, extending his arm to shake.

She took his hand, squeezing hard enough she might have crushed bone if he wasn’t protected by the gauntlet. After one firm pump, she let go and took a few steps back from him.

“At the sound of the horn, we will begin.”

He gripped his polearm, assuming a wider stance to better distribute the balance, his eyes on her, but periphery keenly aware of her hips, watching for any tell of which way she might move first.

A horn blared, and her right hip twitched.

“Begin!”

He expected the immediate lunge. She led from the right, just as he’d perceived, and Keaton was there to parry with the haft of his polearm crossed over his body. Even that wasn’t enough to fully cushion the blow, though. The polearm was slammed back against his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Keaton gasped, tried to catch his breath, and failed to stop her from springing backward to ready another attack.

All he could do was square up, this time opting for evasion. He wasn’t the sturdiest fighter and nowhere near as strong as her. Not yet, anyway. But he’d gotten out of tighter scrapes by using his wits and agility. This was no different. When she charged him, letting out a battle cry that shook the distant mountains, Keaton held his ground until the last moment, then tipped his spear into the ground and used it to push off and out of her path. The momentum carried him almost in a dance, with Keaton landing softly on his feet.

She looked at him over her shoulder and snorted, the sound almost like that of some wild animal. He braced himself for a charge again, expecting a literal bull rush, but she spoke instead. “You learn quickly.”

“You don’t survive the streets of Valfast by being stupid,” Keaton said, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a grin.

She spat in disgust. Not a fan of Valfast, then. He could understand that. Despite calling it home for so much of his life, he wasn’t the biggest fan, either. No time to have a civil discussion about it, though. She was approaching him again, getting just inside his range. Taunting him, probably. Keaton knew the moment he lashed out to try and attack her, she’d be on him with brutal, relentless strikes.

He couldn’t just spend this whole duel evading, though. He had a feeling she had much more stamina than him. She’d probably be able to keep this up indefinitely if she paced herself, whereas the muscles in Keaton’s arms were already starting to burn from the unfamiliar weight of such a heavy weapon. He needed to find some way to disarm her, then maybe he’d have a chance.

As she came at him again, he foolishly thrust an arm out to dry and deter her halberd just past the head. It might have worked, had there not been so much force behind her swing. As it was, Keaton heard something crack and felt a shock of pain that sent an icy chill through his veins. He gritted his teeth, adrenaline finally kicking in in earnest, and continued to push back against her, deterring the halberd that had come inches away from his throat. Either she had a lot more control than he was giving her credit for, or her talk of superficial wounds was horse shit.

A sudden fear for his life did wonders for Keaton’s fighting prowess. He pushed her away with a growl, the injured arm — almost certainly broken — not a bother in the slightest beyond the distant pound of his pulse.

“That doesn’t count as first blood,” he warned her.

“I agree,” she said, amusement glinting in her eyes.

Amusement and something else that made his blood heat. His conscious mind might not have recognized that level of ancient, primal lust when he saw it, but his subconscious certainly did. It made him want to act recklessly; to knock her legs out from under her and follow her to the ground. Keaton had just enough awareness to force that idea away, though, and he squared up with her once more as she attacked again, dodging to the side. Not far enough, it seemed. He felt something collide with his shoulder, like a sack full of bricks being swung full force. Only after his shirt split, the flesh underneath it opening up in a gash that trickled blood down his arm, did Keaton realize she’d rammed him with her horns.

“No magic, but that’s allowed?” he groused, sidestepping a follow-up swipe of her halberd.

“If you had horns, I would allow you to use them, too. Pity you don’t.” She flashed him a smile that looked a little unstable, if Keaton was honest with himself. She was enjoying this too much. “First blood is drawn. Two more to go, dungeon lord.”

His shoulder throbbed, his arm ached, but adrenaline still pumped through his veins, keeping him on his feet. He was determined to at least get one good blow in. One swipe. One trickle of blood, just to say he accomplished something during this duel. If he was to die here, he didn’t want to go out having been completely outmatched.

She was fast, though, and too powerful for him to endure head-on. He’d need to get behind her if he wanted to have any hope.

He studied her next move, the way her fingers wrapped around the haft of her halberd, the flow of energy from her hooved feet all the way up to her arms. She was putting most of that into forward momentum when she rushed him, charging with the confidence that she’d either meet a wall and the force alone would topple it, or she’d be able to skid to a stop and turn back around to do it again. He had to exploit that, which means baiting her again. He stood there, looking for all intents and purposes as if he wanted to parry her, or perhaps sneak in a counterattack.

Overconfidence was a dangerous thing, and Keaton could tell she’d given herself over to it. His lips twitched as she launched from the ground, pushing off with one hoof to come flying at him, halberd extended. There was a shout on her lips and fury in her eyes, but both were going to be in vain. He used that overconfidence to his advantage, dropping low at just the right moment. A swing that would have opened up his chest had he not moved was instead thrashed through the air, the breeze of it catching Keaton and stirring his messy hair.

She’d come close to beheading him, though not on purpose. Now Keaton was dropped down to one knee, the dirt soft and springy underneath him as he surged upward once momentum carried her past. Smacking his hand down against the far end of the spear, he brought it up to swipe across her back. Considering how little she was wearing, it was easy to draw blood. A cut opened up, blood beading immediately and dripping down her back.

“Now we’re even,” he told her, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Of course, it was dangerous to be overconfident. Especially dangerous when your opponent didn’t appear to even feel the pain of the blow you’d dealt. It only seemed to fuel whatever it was driving her. That near-insane battle lust he saw in her eyes, punctuated by her expelling air from her nostrils in another feral snort. It didn’t seem too far-fetched to imagine himself being gored in that moment. He’d always been warned in the orphanage that wild boars roamed the forests, just looking for an excuse to disembowel bad little boys and girls.

Cassia wasn’t a wild boar, but she certainly had all the ferocity of one.

“That will be the last strike you get,” she assured him.

Before he’d even managed to find his balance again, she was running at him to close the meager distance. A run that wasn’t necessary but was unsurprising. What was actually surprising was the fact that she threw down her halberd before she did it. It caught Keaton so off guard that he wasn’t able to properly fling himself out of the way. He’d just started to push off from the ground when her body collided with his, the spear slammed into his chest again. This time his breath stayed gone for a bit, his back colliding hard with the ground, Cassia atop him.

She wrested the spear away with ease, tossing it to the side. In a flash he saw her nails coming toward his face and his eyes widened. He just managed to dodge it, turning his face to the side. His hands shot up to grab her wrists, trying to keep the wild creature at bay. To Keaton’s surprise, he managed to strength to do it. Barely. She was so close to his throat, a fire in her eyes that was honestly a little terrifying.

And more arousing than it should have been, but maybe that was just the fact that she was straddling him right now. She wore so little in the way of clothing, too, that he could feel the heat of her pussy through the cloth. His cock twitched, stiffening despite his best efforts. Blood flowed southward and he could only pray that she was too caught up in the battle to notice.

She wasn’t.

Her forest green eyes flashed with a different kind of lust, a wicked smile curving her lips. She rolled her hips against him, grinding against his cock, and Keaton let out a choked gasp.

“Wh-what are you—”

“Using all the tools at my disposal,” she murmured. “If you are going to be so careless as to want to fuck me in the midst of battle, dungeon lord, then I will take advantage.”

Her hips undulated, the muscles in her abdomen almost mesmerizing as she moved against him in a way that had him seeing stars. He knew she would make him pay for it the instant he let his guard down, and yet he couldn’t keep hold of her. It was too much effort to keep himself from thrusting up toward her in a shameless, desperate display of need.

She did take advantage, just as she promised. Her hands shot out and closed around his neck, applying pressure. That was enough to quell his arousal for the moment, and Keaton reached up, clawing at the woman’s hands. He felt her fingernails gouge into his neck, the sharp sting warning him she’d drawn blood. But his gauntlet was sharp, and she didn’t come away from it unscathed. That move had cost her, blood smearing across her wrist as she let go of his neck.

“Second bloo—”

It might have been dishonorable, but Keaton wasn’t some holy knight. He was what he needed to be to survive. In this case, he was someone who took advantage of his opponents pause to hook his legs around her, thrust his arms up to her shoulders, and flip their position so he was the one pinning her to the ground. She let out a gasp, her pupils dilating until the black nearly replaced all the green.

As he’d expected, she fought him like a hell cat. This wasn’t an honorable duel so much as two people doing whatever it took within the bounds of their agreement. He never would have done this on his own — it felt wrong holding her down like this — but she didn’t seem too concerned with chivalry at the moment. Especially when her hooves hooked around him, digging into his ass as she lifted herself off the ground to put her lower body flush with his again. Keaton groaned, but this time didn’t lose himself in the sensation. Not even when her hands gripped his shoulders and she used her powerful legs to encourage him to move in a rhythmic fashion that could only leave him thinking of one thing.

All he needed to do was scratch her and this was over, but when he tried to get his hands anywhere near her body, she grabbed his arms and held them back, wrestling with him to the point that Keaton felt himself growing exhausted just from the effort to keep up. They were locked in a grapple, upper and lower bodies as close as they could be, his weight fully against her as he had no means to hold himself up.

If he wanted to beat her, Keaton knew he’d have to dig deep and find some hidden strength. All he needed was to push her away just long enough to scratch her—or hell, even to bite her. One good bite to her shoulder would do the trick, and she probably wouldn’t see it coming. He just needed to hold for as long as possible, then overpower her at the last moment and—

Cassia thrust her head upward and a sudden, splitting pain erupted behind his eyes. The coppery tang of blood filled his sinuses, and Keaton truly did see stars this time. Or at least pulses of light that resembled star bursts. Along with the telltale spidery patterns created by his retinas every time he blinked. Something warm and wet trickled downward from his forehead, barely missing his eye.

“Third blood,” she whispered, before flinging him off of her with ease.

Keaton just lay there on the ground, a groan passing his lips as a wave of nausea hit him. The world was spinning, and he was only dimly aware of the fact that Adriana had rushed over to him.

“You gave a good showing, dungeon lord,” came a distant voice that seemed to ring in his ears.

“Are you all right, my lord?” Adriana asked urgently, her hand braced against his back as she helped him into a sitting position.

“I’m…” He turned his head to the side and spat blood.

“He needs healing!” Adriana shouted, her head whipping around to direct her sudden fury at Cassia.

“And healing he will get,” she said, motioning to one of the other Emvola.

A woman came rushing toward him, pulling an overstuffed pack from her shoulder. The fragrant scent of herbs hit Keaton’s nostrils, then practically slammed into them when she wafted something foul-smelling right beneath his nose. The pounding in his head was gone instantly, though, and he blinked away the strange visual effects.

“Thanks, I—”

“Drink this,” the Emvola said, practically shoving a wineskin into his mouth.

If it actually was wine within, it was the most disgusting wine he’d ever tasted. Bitter, with an underlying taste of spoiled dirt. Keaton pulled a face, thrusting the wineskin away from himself. Just moments after taking that swig, though, a warmth began to spread from his lips down through his throat, chest, stomach, then to every part of his body. Fatigue was a thing of the past and so was the pain. Instead, all he could feel was bliss, a dreamy smile coming over him.

“That’s… that’s nice,” he said, the words slurring.

“The euphoria will wear off in a few moments,” the Emvola promised him. Keaton frowned. “It’s only to help with this.”

Her palms glowed as she took his arm in her hands, one on either side. Keaton’s eyes widened once he finally realized what she intended to do, but it was too late. His reaction time was too slow. The Emvola pressed inward, applying so much pressure to his broken arm that tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, despite the fact that he wasn’t actually able to feel the pain. Just an intense amount of pressure, then a searing warmth that enveloped his arm.

Yet when she removed her hands, there was no more throbbing pain.

Keaton felt relief wash over him that was almost orgasmic. He let out a heavy breath, his eyes briefly closing. Gods, that battle was… intense. But he’d made it out the other side with his body — and his pride — intact. And what had she said? He’d been in so much of a fog he’d barely heard it, but Keaton was sure now that she’d said he’d been a worthy fighter. That he’d held his own and made a decent show of it.

“That means you’ll join me, then?" he managed, his voice still slightly strained.

Probably from how hard she’d squeezed his throat. Keaton reached up to rub it, as if doing so would soothe his vocal chords.

“Yes, dungeon lord. I will become your lieutenant," he heard her say from across their impromptu field of battle. "And my tribe will become your minions, serving under my command. As agreed.”

He nodded, trying to find her amid the mass of female warriors that were now gathered around him. They parted, and he saw her again, but not as he had before. She strode toward him with confidence, eyes fixed on him, breasts swaying with every step she took. Breasts that were no longer covered by anything at all — not even the flimsy leather harness she’d been wearing before.

Unable to help himself, Keaton let his gaze travel down to her bare midriff, pausing at where the hem of her leather pants should have been. Those were gone, revealing toned legs covered in the same soft, tan and white fur that her torso was covered in. His gaze traveled inward, catching the briefest glimpse of a pink, glistening slit before he looked away, a deep blush suffusing his cheeks.

She was completely and utterly naked, and she was almost upon him.

17

“I— You don’t have to— I know I was—”

Keaton stammered uselessly, his gaze still averted as the leader of the Emvola stood before him wearing nothing but a triumphant grin. Her hands were on her hips — round and feminine, despite the muscle tone in her body — and she assumed a wide stance.

“Do you not like what you see, Lord Keaton?”

The sound of his name on her lips — the sweet, husky taunt in her voice — made him shiver, arousal thrumming hot through his veins.

He wanted to look again. To reach up and smooth his hands over her luscious thighs, then bury his face between them to taste her inviting pussy. He wanted to—

What is wrong with you? You’re in the middle of a crowd, and Adriana is right here!

That same guilt washed over him, the same sensation he’d felt when the daemon sucked his cock until he came the previous night. It’d helped that she’d taken on Adriana’s form. Or maybe it hadn’t. Keaton still wasn’t sure what to make of any of that, and he definitely didn’t want to think about it now, when his erection was already tenting his trousers in a way that was obvious to absolutely everyone in that makeshift arena.

“This is my fault," Adriana said quickly, still knelt beside him.

Her hand rubbed a soothing circle against his shoulder, which… wasn’t helping. All he could imagine was those small but strong hands caressing him all over while Cassia rode him with the same wild abandon she’d had during their duel…

“What do you mean?" he choked out, turning his whole face away so he couldn’t accidentally sneak a glance at his new lieutenant.

“What is the matter, my lord?" Cassia asked, her tone changing to one of concern. "Do you not accept my offer? It would be your loss, if so, and I’m afraid it would make us enemies.”

“He doesn’t know what the acceptance of a lieutenant entails," Adriana explained, a touch of agitation in her voice. "Leave us be for a moment while I explain.”

Keaton looked at her, bewildered. She’d been firm before, but this was the first time he’d seen her sound actually angry. She backed down from that stance quickly, though, looking away from the Emvola.

“Um… it will just be easier if there are less distractions.”

“Ten minutes," she told them. "My time is valuable, Lord Keaton, and I will not be made to look the fool. Not even by you.”

Her hooves hit the packed earth in a manner that wasn’t quite stomping away from him, but close enough to give Keaton pause. He thought he’d be safe after the duel, but somehow, he’d landed himself in even more danger, it seemed.

“I guess I need you to tell me what that was about," Keaton said, looking up at his companion. "And you’re probably going to need to explain it to me like I’m a child. My ears are still ringing a little from that fight.”

With a groan, Keaton pushed himself to his feet. He swayed slightly, but Adriana caught him, a hand bracing his chest this time. She quickly removed it once he was steady and proceeded to look anywhere but at him.

“Um. In addition to stealing life essence like you demonstrated with the goblin, you can also absorb and… transmit essence through…" The blush that colored her cheeks made the transition from skin to scales even more noticeable. "Um… through sexual intercourse. That is how lieutenants are bonded to their dungeon lord.”

If she were anyone else, Keaton would have assumed she was just fucking with him. There was no way sex was an integral part of a dungeon lord’s army. He assumed it happened — people of all stripes were attracted to power, after all — but as a leisure activity, like it did elsewhere. Maybe to procreate, if a dungeon lord needed little lords and ladies to take up the throne once he was gone. But this sounded like something else; something intrinsic to the very structure of a dungeon lord’s life and success in his position.

And Adriana wasn’t fucking with him. If she did have the capacity to jest, he doubted she’d be comfortable enough to tease him about something like this. All Keaton could do was stare at her, gaping like a fish.

“I’m sorry, you’re saying if I want to have any lieutenants — which I need to help grow my dungeon — I have to fuck them?" He shook his head. "Sorry. Sleep with them?”

“It is not strictly necessary. I think. Or… I have heard." She wasn’t looking at him, her gaze focused down at her hands which she was wringing together in front of her body. "Every dungeon lord I’ve known has done this, and every lieutenant has been eager to um… undergo the ritual. Those that aren’t don’t tend to be treated well. Our kind are here to serve the dungeon lords, after all.”

The way she said it gave Keaton pause. A disgusted shudder passed over him, and he remembered something from the first day they met. She kept repeating something over and over. Something about not wanting to be bonded.

His eyes shot open as he realized this was what she meant. She must have thought he was going to force her into it. Almost certainly because some other dungeon lord — maybe even Lord Havron — already had.

Rage pooled in Keaton’s body. He was filled with the sudden desire to go fish Lord Havron’s worthless soul out of the underworld and restore it to a physical form just so he could kill the man again. He’d take his time with it this time, now that he knew the extent of the dungeon lord’s crimes. Then he’d find every other slimy excuse for a man who’d ever laid a hand on her and—

“I-I’m sorry, Lord Keaton. I’m sorry for not telling you. Please—”

He looked over to find Adriana on her knees, her hands clasped together as she begged him. Then he realized just what had her in such a state: That damn gauntlet was glowing again, emitting more energy this time. It swirled around his arm in clinging black and purple wisps, making the entire arm radiate heat.

“No, Adriana, I’m not angry with you. I’m sorry, I just…" He didn’t know what else to do to make himself seem like less of a threat. So there, in the middle of a crowd that might see it as weakness, he dropped down to his knees, his gauntlet at his side. "I was just remembering how scared you were when we first met. Was… was this why?”

Her lower lip wobbled, but eventually she nodded. "It was part of my fear, yes.”

He reached out to rest his hands on her arms, then stopped himself, looking to her. Adriana nodded, and he allowed himself to touch her. He forced himself to ignore that spark, looking into her eyes with utter sincerity.

While having an erection which was… an experience, but he did his best.

“Listen to me, okay? I promise you I will never force you into anything. If you want to be my lieutenant and we can find another way, we’ll do it. I won’t rest until we’re able to find some way that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Lord Keaton, I—”

“And if you don’t want to be a lieutenant, that’s fine too! You’re always going to have a place here, Adriana. You’re my right-hand woman, from now until… well until you don’t want the position anymore, I guess.”

Or until he died, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to bring that up right now. She was fragile enough as it was.

“What if I do not wish to be a lieutenant, but someday still wish to…” She snapped her mouth shut, a soft squeak escaping her. Her wide, golden eyes were even wider, and somehow that blush grew darker still. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m—”

She was shaking beneath his hands and Keaton rubbed her arms gently. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t even hear it. Have no idea what you might mean.”

Only he did. Some part of him actually celebrated the fact that she didn’t find him repulsive. That she might be thinking about him the way he’d thought about her last night.

Calm down. Nothing’s going to come of it. She’s too scared, and she probably doesn’t even know what she’s saying right now.

He really did need to just purge it from his mind. Pretend she’d never said those words at all. That would make things much easier on them both. In fact, Keaton decided to adopt that strategy right away and offered her a friendly smile.

“Are we okay? You believe me, right? That I’d never try to force you into anything?”

She nodded, her eyes finally meeting his again. “Yes, I believe you. I… do not know why you would go to such lengths, or why you are so different from every other dungeon lord I have met, but… thank you, my lord.”

Please call me Keaton.

He silently implored her, not willing to say it out loud right now. Maybe not ever, since she seemed comfortable calling him lord. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, not by a long shot. But part of him just wanted to hear his name coming from her lips, without any of the titles or expected reverence of his position. How would she speak to him then, if he was just Keaton…?

A dumb thought to have, he knew, because he wasn’t just Keaton anymore. And she probably wouldn’t have spoken to him at all, since he’d been a human and humans made a habit of killing monsters of all kinds. Killing or subjugating them, which was even worse.

Besides, he had more immediate things to deal with. Something Cassia kindly reminded him of.

“Time is nearly up, dungeon lord,” she bellowed from across the small island. “What is your choice?”

“We need them, right?” he asked in a whisper.

“They would be a valuable asset to The Labyrinth,” she agreed. “Cassia especially. She is an excellent fighter and will complement the dungeon well.”

“And… you’re okay with it? With what I have to do?”

She blinked owlishly at him. “Why would I not be? It is your duty as a dungeon lord, and her duty as your lieutenant.”

Duty. Of course. That was all it was, and it wasn’t like he and Adriana were a thing. Why should he feel guilty about it, when she wasn’t even acknowledging the possibility that he should? It genuinely didn’t seem to even cross her mind in the first place. He was a dungeon lord, and the easiest way for him to bring lieutenants into his dungeon was to bed them. That was just a fact of life, even if he planned to deviate from it should Adriana ever want the position.

Why should he feel guilty or ashamed? It was just sex, after all. There were no feelings involved anywhere in this equation.

Keaton nodded, moving his hands up to Adriana’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze before he let go. He turned to face Cassia then, finding her still as naked as the day she was born, surrounded by a sea of beautiful women — though none even came close to rivaling her.

Not like this is going to be a chore. She’ll probably be as wild in the sack as she was out here… And she’s a damn good fighter.

“Very well, Cassia. I will accept you and your tribe into my dungeon, The Labyrinth. On one condition.”

She canted her head to the side, one fine brow arching. “And that is?”

“Ah, I’d… prefer to undergo the… ritual in private. If that’s all right.”

For a long moment, no one said anything. No one even made so much as a twitch of movement. Then Cassia threw her head back and laughed, the sound bold and resonant.

“A dungeon lord who is shy! I wouldn’t have guessed, from the display you gave earlier,” she said with a smirk, approaching him anew.

This time Keaton managed to keep his attention on her face and nothing else. “Though I suppose you cannot control your body’s reaction, hm? When the blood is pumping, we have no choice.” She laughed again, softer this time. “Very well, Lord Keaton. I accept your terms.”

18

He brought all of the Emvola inside, welcoming them to the dungeon with Adriana’s help. Each of them needed to attune to the crystal — after Cassia did so — before they were accepted by the dungeon itself.

After that, Keaton ordered his current minions to carve out a barracks — on Cassia’s suggestion — that could house all of the Emvola.

“Once we are done, I’ll assist in making sure the space has everything my warriors need,” she told him. “Though that may be hours from now, if you are as good at fucking as you are at fighting.”

The last she murmured for his ears alone, standing so close to him he could smell the scent of the forest on her. She’d put her clothes back on to venture into the dungeon, but that didn’t seem to matter to Keaton’s mind. He was already imagining every lewd act he could think of.

And he could think of a lot.

“Uh… yeah, that would be great. You’d know better than I would what they need, so let’s… let’s go with that.”

She let out a husky laugh, her fingers trailing over his back before she turned to address her warriors, all of whom were packed into the war room.

“Help Lord Keaton’s forces construct the barracks. I will be along to oversee the construction once we’re done.”

A few of the Emvolas snickered and some looked at Keaton with barely concealed jealousy. Whether it was jealousy of him or Cassia, he wasn’t sure. And he definitely didn’t need to think any more about it.

“Adriana, can you, uh…”

“I will handle things while you are otherwise occupied, Lord Keaton,” she said, giving a determined nod.

She still seemed completely unbothered by this, even as Cassia pressed her front against his back, her hand moving down his front until her fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his trousers.

“This definitely is not private,” he hissed, grabbing her wrist and pulling it away.

“Apologies, my lord. A good duel always gets the blood pumping. Don’t you agree?”

He did agree. He could feel his pulse pounding, his cock throbbing with it. One more moment of that attention and he would have just let her take him in hand right here, in front of everyone. Fortunately she pulled away and simply reached for his hand, tugging him along.

Keaton followed her to the bedchamber he’d only just set up the previous night. The bedchamber where he’d come to thoughts of Adriana, while being serviced by a daemon. Now he was going to complete a ritual with a woman he’d just met. A woman who could snap him in half like a twig.

This poor excuse for a bed is going to break into a million pieces. …And I’m okay with that.

“Uh, this one is mine,” he said, gesturing to the bed he’d slept in the previous night.

“Hm. It will do, I suppose, but a dungeon lord should have a far better bed than this.”

“I’ll get there. It hasn’t been a priority yet, and I’ve slept in worst pla—”

His words were cut off as he watched her sprawl out on his bed, lounging on her back with her knees falling well apart from each other. He couldn’t help but look now at her perfectly pink pussy, her folds glistening with her arousal.

Keaton’s mouth went dry, and any chance he had of thinking clearly was tossed out immediately. He couldn’t think at all; could only unlace his trousers and pull off his shirt.

“So my body is to your satisfaction, then?” she asked, looking up at him with a challenge in her eyes.

“Of course. You’re stunning. And, well. Do you really need more proof?” He couldn’t help himself, gesturing downward with a smirk.

His cock stood at attention, and Cassia used that invitation to size him up. She licked her lips, her hand straying to one of her plump breasts. She squeezed roughly, a soft moan falling from her lips.

Gods help him, but he wasn’t going to last long if she kept doing things like that.

“Come and claim your lieutenant, Lord Keaton.”

He nodded, swallowing hard, and moved to join her on the bed. Keaton expected that challenge to remain in her eyes and was prepared for her to grab him and throw him down in her place. She didn’t, though. She barely moved a muscle when he climbed over her. She just lay there, legs parted, arms now at her sides as she waited for him to act.

Shit. Maybe I misunderstood…

Maybe this “ritual” was just a formality. A quick in-and-out, like some kind of… transaction. The thought made Keaton’s skin crawl, but he positioned himself above her, his fingers gripping around the base of his cock as he rubbed the head along her slit until it glistened, too.

Her breathing picked up, chest heaving just so. He wanted so badly to touch her, but what if that wasn’t part of this?

“May I touch you?” he asked, already breathless.

“You may do whatever you wish to me, my lord. I am yours to take.”

That tone sounded so… different from what he knew of her. Maybe her boldness was confined to the battlefield, but he didn’t like the idea that this fierce warrior goddess was little more than a warm hole to stick his cock into. He could have gotten more interaction from his own hand.

It was a terrible thing to think, and Keaton tried his best to push those thoughts aside as he pressed the head into her, parting those swollen lips. She gasped, her body twitching in response as she tried to control some kind of impulse to move. Keaton kept his eyes on hers, watching and waiting for any sign that he should stop. For any sign of… anything at all.

There was nothing there, though. She looked up at him like she was someone else — someone who just existed for him to fuck, and no other reason.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” Keaton said, pulling out with a groan.

“Have I disappointed?” she asked, sitting up to reach for him as he pushed himself off the bed. “Come stand by the bed. I’ll take you into my mouth first, get you nice and ready.”

“That’s not the problem.” Or at least it wasn’t… “I’m… I just feel like I’m with someone completely different from the woman I dueled. I can adjust, I guess, but I expected more than you just lying there.” He winced, the words sounding callous to his own mind. “Shit, I’m sorry. I know how that sounds, I—”

Keaton just decided to quit while he was ahead. Especially since his thoughts turned to Elena. He’d been so blinded by his love for her that he hadn’t realized just how… bad the sex was. Physically, sure, they both eventually got there. But there was no passion, no spark, and nothing from Elena other than a warm and willing body. He distinctly remembered having to actually move her into place once. Not in a sexy way, either, but in a way someone might move furniture around to make it more suitable for the task.

He hadn’t expected the same from Cassia, but he needed to just… get over it. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel like she needed to perform to his specifications. He wanted to hear her moan because of something he’d done, because he’d made her feel good, not because she was working with some kind of script.

“Just uh… just give me a minute, and I’ll—”

This time he was cut off not by his own sense of self-preservation, but by a hearty laugh from the Emvola. Not exactly the sort of thing a man wanted to hear when he was completely naked, but Keaton’s gaze carefully moved to the bed where she’d been laying. She’d fallen back against it once more, one arm draped carelessly behind her head while the other rested just above her diaphragm, as if the laughter — which had been constant since it started — was beginning to make the muscle spasm.

Keaton just arched a brow and waited, resisting the urge to cover himself.

“I apologize, my lord,” she said with a soft snort, finally getting a hold of herself. “I am not laughing at you, merely at the fact that you do not want me to play the meek and subservient lover.”

“Are you really that surprised?” he asked, blinking. “Why would I agree to duel you in a fair contest if I was that kind of person?”

“And why would you make doe eyes at the dragonkin if you were not?”

“I… That’s not… I don’t want her to be subservient to me, I want…” A blush stole across his cheeks. He was just talking without thinking any of it through, which was always a bad idea. “You know, we’re not talking about her right now. We’re talking about you and me.”

“You cannot blame me for making assumptions,” she said, sitting up again and shifting her knees underneath herself to crawl to the edge of the bed. “Most dungeon lords — most men, in general — need to feel some level of power over the women they keep around. They don’t feel like they’re presenting a strong enough front otherwise.”

Keaton scoffed. “Yeah, well I’m not like them. I don’t need to ‘win,’ especially when it isn’t a contest to begin with.”

She considered him for a long moment, her head canted to one side, a slight smirk on her lips. Finally, she asked, “You wish to fuck me, then, not a helpless little nothing who looks and feels like me?” Keaton just nodded, a sense of wariness encompassing him. “Then you will have to earn it, dungeon lord.”

Cassia moved so quickly that he never had time to react. She shifted, grabbed his arm, all but threw him onto the bed and was atop him before Keaton even had the opportunity to blink. The wind was knocked from him and he distinctly remembered being in this position before, with his spear pressed to his chest and her hands around his throat.

This time, though, the movements she’d strongly implied on the battlefield became far more of a reality. She rolled her hips against him, sliding his cock through her folds but never taking him inside. Keaton let out a groan, reaching up to try and grip her hips, her thighs, anything to have some semblance of control. But she roughly grabbed his wrists and pinned them behind him, pressing him down into the bed with the weight of her lithe, muscular body against him.

“What do you want, dungeon lord? Do you want to be inside of me? Do you want to fill my pussy with that thick cock of yours?” she purred, grinding against him, her soft, sleek fur providing a pleasant contrast.

“Y—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she tutted, leaning close and laving her tongue over his lips before drawing the bottom one into her mouth and tugging. “I don’t want you to beg. I want you to earn.”

How was he to earn anything when she overpowered him? The same way he earned anything in life, he supposed. By finding an alternate way, a different tactic that made advantage of the element of surprise. Cassia expected him to try and flip her, to wrest control away and thrust into her. There was no chance for him down that path, so instead Keaton decided to use her own arousal against her.

This time when she rolled her hips, he matched in an offset rhythm, so the head of his cock rubbed over that swollen bud. She gasped, her thighs shaking, giving him a moment to act unimpeded. A different man might have used that as an invitation to turn the tables, but Keaton instead used it to progress the plan he’d adopted. He controlled his movements, his hips lifting just enough to rub against her. The Emvola let out a loud, low moan, and Keaton did everything in his power to keep from groaning.

“Very smart,” she told him, breathless, her nails beginning to dig into the flesh of his wrists as her head ducked down, teeth poised by his neck. “But that tactic will not work a second time.”

“I’d be disappointed if it di—argh,” Keaton’s taunt ended with a shock of pain as she bit down at the junction between his neck and shoulder. Her teeth were blunted, clearly made for chewing plants rather than tearing meat, but they were still forceful enough to break skin. He was sure he was going to have a mark there the next day, but once the pain faded, it was replaced by a warm euphoria that seeped into his bones, a soft sound of bliss slipping from his lips.

That sound turned into a moan when she lifted up and took a hand from his wrist just long enough to grip his cock before she sank down on him. Keaton’s head fell back, his hips rising on instinct to meet her before she put a stop to it by taking him all the way to the hilt. She was so tight around him, her pussy squeezing around his cock and drawing another sharp moan from him.

He expected her to return her hand to his wrist, but instead she grabbed said hand and roughly placed it upon her breast. The fur was even softer there, just fine hairs covering the luscious, malleable swell of such gorgeous tits. They bounced vigorously as she started to ride them, and Keaton used the same roughness she’d shown earlier to squeeze, roll, and pinch, the last sharp grasp of his thumb and forefinger making her gasp, her head thrown back and a laugh falling from her lips.

She’d freed his other hand, so Keaton used that to grip her hip, his blunted nails digging into her skin. He couldn’t have controlled her even if he wanted to, but it gave him some way to hold on as she slammed down against him. The slap of their thighs resonated through the chamber, and every time she took him deep into her tight, soaking pussy, Keaton felt a new surge of pleasure.

She rode him so hard, so fiercely that the bed’s makeshift frame was already beginning to creak. It wasn’t going to last the night. It likely wouldn’t even last another ten minutes, but he didn’t care.

He would have let her ride him into complete oblivion, yet that wasn’t what this was about. Just like in their duel, he needed to make a good show. He started by lifting up off the pallet, thrusting into her as she slammed down against him. He drove deeper, his balls slapping against her skin from the momentum, and he could tell with every thrust, her control was slipping that much more.

Especially when he angled them so he was able to rub against her clit.

She moaned, sitting astride him with near perfect posture, her hands extended as far as they could reach, fingers gripping, nails digging into his chest. She started to buck against him, just grinding down against his hips with his cock fully seated inside of her, and Keaton wasn’t sure how much of that he could take.

Matters weren’t helped any when she came with a shout, her pussy clenching so tightly around him, squeezing his aching cock and demanding he fill her with his seed.

Keaton held out, a fact that must have impressed her because she threw back her head again and laughed. “My, you do have more stamina than the average human, don’t you?”

“I said I wanted a challenge,” he answered in a breathless huff.

His hands went to the furs that covered the pallet and he pushed himself into a sitting position so that she was atop his lap. Then he gripped her thighs so hard he was sure there would be marks the next day and started thrusting into her. The action resulted in a cry that sounded surprised, but pleased, and another round of rough, husky laughter.

“Go on, then. Fuck me. Harder. Harder.”

Keaton did as she demanded, until his thighs burned with the effort of pounding into her, lifting off of the pallet to do it. It wasn’t enough. He felt overcome, as if he couldn’t get enough. It was a compulsion, a deep-seated need, and Keaton gave into it fully.

Drawing upon the new strength he’d gained since coming a dungeon lord, he flipped Cassia, her legs instantly wrapping around him and squeezing tight, hooves digging into his back. She gripped his shoulders, a gleam in her eyes as he pressed his knees into the pallet and started to fuck her with wild abandon.

He’d never experienced anything like it. It was as if he’d succumbed to some kind of frenzy, like a wild animal overcome by the need to mate. He felt something inside of himself, a prickle of warmth telling him this was right; this was the way he was meant to do things. But all he was consciously aware of was how good she felt, how she met him with every thrust, how that husky laughter was her way of telling him he was doing what she wanted.

A loud crash followed an especially hard slam of his thighs against hers. Keaton felt himself falling, and his hands instinctively moved to try and help cushion his partner as the bed frame splintered, collapsing beneath them in a shower of wood.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, her fingers curling tightly into his hair and then pulling. Hard.

Keaton let out an almost feral growl, his knees scraping against the pile of wood and the stone floor as he kept pounding into her. His balance wasn’t as good here, though, his position not allowing him to leverage his own mass. He knew in the back of his mind that she was going to exploit that, but he didn’t care.

When she inevitably used her strong legs to flip him beneath her, Keaton gripped an arm around her neck and dug his nails into her back for purchase, his other palm remaining on the cold stone floor as he met her brutal movements.

His thighs were bruised, his lungs burned, his cock was so painfully hard that he needed to come, but his body didn’t seem inclined to stop until the Emvola came again, her body convulsing violently atop him. She gave herself over to it completely, and that was when Keaton felt satisfied. That was when that feeling inside of him swelled beyond just the build-up of orgasm.

His cock jerked and spasmed inside of her, buried deep as he shot hot cum into her. She returned to her senses enough to let out a wanton moan, deliberately squeezing around him, milking him for every last drop until all Keaton could do was collapse back against the furs and broken bed frame, exhausted and utterly spent.

Cassia is now a lieutenant of The Labyrinth.

19

Keaton wasn’t sure when or where he fell asleep. For all he knew, he was still on that collapsed bed with Cassia on top of him. He knew he had fallen asleep, though, because these days that was when the daemon liked to fuck with him. He felt her presence nearby, pulling him from his near-catatonic state. Groaning, he tried to sit up, finding that at some point he’d apparently made his way into a bed that wasn’t broken. He was clothed, too, though the room still smelled very strongly of sex, and his body bore the aches and bruises from his encounter with his new lieutenant.

In short, he was in no mood for the daemon’s antics, and if she wanted to start something, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to finish it.

“Need to sleep,” he muttered, rolling over to face away from the presence.

As expected, she just appeared in front of him, naked as always, her golden skin gleaming.

“Poor little dungeon lord, all worn out by his pet,” he said, a taunt in her voice. “I feel like you’ve been holding out on me. Fucking the likes of her that way, and not me.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

He’d meant it as a joke, his eyes rolling with how ridiculous it was. But now that he considered her tone, she did sound… bothered, at the very least. Maybe she was jealous. That was something Keaton could barely wrap his head around.

Can’t get a human woman to look twice at me, but suddenly I’ve got three monsters who want me?

It was all because of the lordship. At least in the case of this daemon and the Emvola. Adriana was different, but he couldn’t really count her as someone who wanted him. One off-handed comment wasn’t any real proof of desire, and Keaton was never going to act on it.

“Will you stop thinking about your precious little dragonling for one moment and focus,” the daemon said, disgust dripping from her words.

“You are jealous.”

Oh, this was too much. He propped himself up on an elbow, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched her.

“And you are a delusional human who believes he’s unlocked the mysteries of the world after spilling his seed inside some willing cunt,” she snarled, revealing those full rows of small but pointy teeth.

Alright, don’t piss off the daemon. Point taken.

“I’m focused, sorry,” he told her, rubbing a hand over his face. Everything hurt and he could have done with another two days of sleep, but apparently, he was doing this now. “Why are you here?”

She wanted something, he knew that much. There was a good chance she’d never stop wanting things, which was the problem with daemons. Even though he’d killed Lord Havron and had taken over the dungeon in his stead, she still wanted more. For what purpose, Keaton didn’t know. Maybe just because she enjoyed seeing him squirm, or sowing chaos in his ranks like she’d done by informing him Adriana was lying.

Keaton suspected her intent was more sinister than that, though.

“Now that you have a lieutenant and the beginnings of a competent army, it is time to strike out of your dungeon and conquer,” she told him, her tone returning to normal, that flash of anger dissipating.

“Conquer? How am I supposed to conquer somewhere else when I haven’t even fully built up my own dungeon yet?”

She let out a long-suffering sigh. “No wonder you keep that useless wretch around. She explains it in terms you can understand, yes?”

Maybe it was the progress he’d made. Maybe it was the new powers. Whatever the case, Keaton wasn’t in the mood to just take that from her anymore. He didn’t have to, because she obviously needed him, or she wouldn’t be here at all.

“Why don’t you cut the attitude and just tell me what you want me to do,” he said, his jaw set into a firm line.

She stared at him incredulously, opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. The slightest incline of her chin told him she knew what he was doing and why. “I see you have learned something about being a dungeon lord. Understand, my lord, that I am not one of your minions or even your lieutenant. You are here because of me, and I can take everything away from you just as fast.” She reached out and caressed his jaw in a way that was almost sweet… then she gripped his chin so hard pain shot through Keaton. “Every human always thinks he’s special. As if I couldn’t pluck some other idiot from the streets and make him at least confident enough to do what you’re doing. Never forget that you are replaceable.”

He jerked away from her, his teeth clenching. He wanted to spit in her face, tell her to go find “some other idiot” if she was so sure she could. But she was right. He had nothing without this place. No one to come home to, no one to miss him if he was left face down in a ditch somewhere. No future to look forward to beyond figuring out a plan for how he was going to survive the next day.

Keaton thought the daemon needed him, and while that might have been true in some respect, he needed her more.

“Good boy,” she purred, giving his cheek a pat. “It’s true your dungeon is… lacking right now. But your new minions can help you build, and I’m sure you can find more goblins in that putrid bog they call home. You may even happen upon some minions in the forests beyond. Whatever it takes to get a stable number of builders, do it. Have them finish the barracks, then get them started on a proper armory. Make yourself and all of your minions weapons and armor, then it will be time to conquer.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not much of a conqueror,” Keaton said. “I spent my life scavenging and salvaging what I could.”

“That was when you were little more than a rat skulking through the shadows. You are a dungeon lord now, and one who will soon amass powers far beyond what a mortal could do. Conquering is part of your destiny, Keaton.”

Fine. He’d play along for now, even if the idea of taking something by force made his skin crawl, no matter how many people were on his side.

“And who — or what — am I supposed to conquer?” he asked.

She let out a cruel laugh. “I am not going to do everything for you. Find a source of power and take it for yourself. Use it to grow your own strength and the strength of your dungeon. Once you have done that, we’ll talk again, darling. Until then…” A smirk curled her lips. “Try not to let your pets wear you out every night. You’ll need your energy.”

As was the way with the daemon, she disappeared again before Keaton could get a word in edgewise. The smell of cinnamon and cardamom lingered behind like it always did, that combination starting to give him a headache as he lay there in the darkness, trying to process her demands.

The next morning, Keaton awoke to find himself in a room he didn’t remember seeing, let alone falling asleep in.

It was spacious, but private, with only one bed, a table with a couple of chairs, a chest, and a couple sconces inside. Sitting up with a groan, he realized he wasn’t even on the same bed as before. Obviously that one was destroyed, but this was much higher quality. Instead of a shoddy wooden frame and a fur pallet, this was something sturdy, reinforced with crossbeams. There was even a frame to it, and his head had been resting on a straw-filled pillow, a burlap sack mattress beneath him filled with what felt like a large bed of leaves.

Not the inn bed he was used to, but much better than the first few nights he’d spent here. And he neither remembered ordering it to be built or falling asleep in it. Great.

He also didn’t remember asking for new clothes to be made, yet they sat folded neatly atop the table, a simple linen set of shirt, trousers, and — thank the Gods — boots.

In that moment, he didn’t care how any of it had gotten there. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and approached the clothes, pulling them on. The linen was smooth and cool against his skin, not at all scratchy like his last garments. The boots were a perfect fit, the leather still soft and malleable. Sinking his feet into them was an almost blissful experience, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, you are awake,” came a familiar voice.

Adriana was in the corridor, her form stopped in mid-stride as she looked into his room. When her gaze focused on him, she blushed.

“I hope you like the way everything has been designed, my lord. I… had to do it myself, since you were not awake.”

Keaton groaned, a throbbing sensation taking hold behind his eyes. It passed soon enough, but it and her words were more than enough cause for concern. “How long was I asleep?”

“A little over two days,” she said, wringing her hands together.

His eyebrows shot up, the blood rushing from his face as he searched her eyes. “Seriously? Two days?”

“The ritual is an involved process. It takes a great deal out of a dungeon lord and his new lieutenant, and it requires that both get enough rest afterward to solidify the bond,” she said, teeth snagging her bottom lip.

He knew he’d been exhausted when they finished, but they’d gone at it for an hour tops. Probably way less, considering how frantic things had been. Why did he—

Images flashed through his mind, memories making their presence known. Waking to the sensation of his cock down the Cassia’s throat. Gripping her horns and thrusting into her mouth only for her to pull back so he came all over her face, his cum dripping down to her tits.

Keaton holding her up, pinning her against the cave wall, her legs wrapped tight around him as he pounded into her. Her nails raking permanent lines into his back as he fucked her, making her come three separate times before he finally spilled himself inside her.

Cassia straddling his face, her perfect pussy practically dripping with her sweet juices as he licked and sucked, his fingers thrusting into her while he attended her clit. Her scent getting all over his face, his beard, everywhere on him, just as his was everywhere on her.

A moment of triumph as he managed to wrestle her onto her hands and knees, her round ass pressing back against him, taunting him. The way she’d whimpered and shook when he thrust into her wet, well-used pussy just enough to coat his cock in sufficient lubrication, then pressed into the much tighter hole of her ass all while she begged him for more.

Fuck me. Gods, yes. Please. Harder, my lord. Harder.

Hours of fucking. An entire night’s worth, maybe even into the next day. All of it forgotten until now. A “gift” from the daemon, he guessed, and something he’d have to rectify if his partner was up for it in the future. Maybe that wasn’t how these things worked, but… she’d certainly seemed to enjoy herself, and Keaton…

Gods, he’d never felt like that before. Like he was a machine, destined to keep going until he was too exhausted to function. It was one-part exhilarating and one-part terrifying.

“I…” Keaton cleared his throat, unable to meet Adriana’s gaze. “Guess I was pretty out of it. Sorry.”

“That is common,” she said with a patient smile. “The first coupling of a dungeon lord and his lieutenant creates a sort of frenzy. You are compelled to um… see the ritual through to the end, until you have both exchanged a satisfactory amount of essence.”

He let out a surprised, breathless laugh. So that feeling was natural. Or… natural for a dungeon lord, anyway. He’d needed something from her, she’d needed something from him, and they hadn’t stopped until they’d gotten their fill.

He vaguely remembered a few messages, and feeling as if he’d acquired new powers, but he’d have to check the crystal to be sure.

“Well I’m glad it worked. Were you, uh… I mean, I hope we weren’t too loud.”

Her skin turned bright red once more, the color reaching the tips of her long ears. “It is to be expected, my lord.” Her gaze met his for the briefest moment, and he swore he saw a hint of longing there before she looked away. “We made do while you were otherwise indisposed, and once the ritual was complete, we were able to build new things for the dungeon.”

“Ah, so that’s where all of this came from,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, that single expression making him feel more bashful than thinking about his marathon sex session with Cassia. Gods, he was a mess.

“You are very welcome, Lord Keaton. I thought your room would be a priority. The barracks are also complete, and the armory is nearly ready. There are also weapons and armor made and waiting to be assigned.”

“Everyone’s been… really busy,” he said, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“You did your part. We have all stepped up to do ours,” Adriana responded without a trace of sarcasm.

But my part just involved a lot of fucking and sleeping…

Apparently that was just the way things were. Dungeon lords had a way better deal than he’d ever thought, though it was no wonder all the priests liked to drone on about them being depraved.

“I, uh. Wanted to talk to everyone, actually,” Keaton said, pushing away the awkwardness — and the last vestiges of sleep. “Could you ask Cassia, a couple of her trusted warriors, and Orbon to join us in the war room?”

“Of course, my lord.”

She practically beamed at him, for no reason Keaton could discern. As he finished his morning ritual and considered it, he realized she might just be grateful to feel useful. He hadn’t even thought twice before asking for her help. She might not be a lieutenant in the dungeon lord’s sense of the word, but she was one of his most trusted allied. Probably the most trusted ally he’d ever had, though that wasn’t a feat considering the miserable company he kept in the past.

Dressed and outfitted with a decent copper sword that had also been laid out for him, Keaton made his way to the war room to find everyone already there.

They were gathered near the crystal, with Cassia and Adriana taking point while the others hung back. Cassia smirked at him, her gaze dragging slowly over his body.

“I’m surprised you aren’t still stiff from your vigorous activities, my lord.”

Keaton was surprised by that too, considering what he remembered. “A couple days’ rest will cure any ills.”

“Goblins make weapons,” Orbon asserted, evidently not caring for banter. “The Labyrinth use weapons.”

“Yes, thank you,” he said, patting the sword that was belted on his hip. “You’ve done well. Let’s… keep that up. Whatever the drones find, see if it’ll smelt into something we can use for stronger weapons and armor.”

“That just issue, Lord Keaton. Goblins not blacksmiths. They make bad weapons, break not long after use.”

Well that’s good to know ahead of time…

“Need minions who can make weapons, armors. Hissers know how. Can teach or make themselves.”

“Hissers…?”

“The snakekin that live in the arid valleys beyond the swamp,” Adriana clarified. “He’s right. They’re well known for their smithing techniques. They would be a valuable asset to the dungeon.”

“That ties nicely into what I wanted to discuss with all of you,” Keaton said. “We’ve got a good foundation here. I think it’s time to expand the dungeon. Recruit new minions, find more Anima shards, gather what we can and take it back here.”

“I was hoping we would set out to conquer soon,” Cassia mused. “My girls are already growing restless. We are not builders, we are warriors.”

Keaton frowned. “That’s just it, I don’t want to conquer. We’ll fight whoever we need to fight, but I’d rather get what we need through other means.”

The Emvola snorted at him incredulously before realizing he was serious. “What do you have if you do not conquer? It is your calling as a dungeon lord.”

“Lord Keaton is different!” Adriana’s normally quiet voice was raised, anger in her eyes. The others turned their attention to her, which immediately made her self-conscious. “Um… Orbon can attest to that. He was not forced to work here.”

“This true,” the hobgoblin said with a nod. “Lord Keaton give choice. We work for food and glory of sucking marrow from enemy’s bones.”

“Uh… not sure I remember agreeing to that last one—”

“Then what is your intention, if not to conquer?” Cassia’s tone had changed, her entire demeanor speaking of a desire to challenge him.

And not in a fun way. More in a “I could end your life with one headbutt” way.

“We go in and convert any minions we can by offering them an equal exchange,” Keaton said. “We kill anyone who attacks us, and then we scavenge what we can from the dungeon itself.”

“So you want us — proud, noble warriors — to act as thieves?” Cassia asked, her nostrils flaring.

“No, I want you to do what you offered to do and protect me and The Labyrinth. If this style of leadership is going to be a problem, then you’re free to go.”

Her eyes widened, her face growing deathly pale. It was more than just the assessment of a threat. There was something to it that Keaton was ignorant to. One glance at Adriana — who’d curled in on herself — made that clear.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, “I—”

“Let’s discuss the mission.” She lifted her head in a proud gesture, looking at the crystal rather than him. “There are two dungeons in the Valley of Bones. One is well beyond our capabilities, run by Lord Ephraim.”

“Oh, yes,” Adriana agreed, looking as if she was about to be sick. “Let’s stay far away from him.”

“The other, however… Do you have a map?”

Keaton interfaced with the crystal and pulled up a map that displayed across the nearby table. His advisors joined him around it, with Cassia leaning across the table to point to the aforementioned valley. Keaton watched as her finger glided across the smooth wood, stopping on what just looked like an outcropping of rocks to him.

“Here. This dungeon is built beneath an ancient ruin. It’s not the most impressive, but it was on our list if you proved unworthy,” the Emvola said casually. Keaton wondered if he was still being evaluated on that front. “It is not much larger than The Labyrinth but has access to resources we will never find in these swamps.”

“And these snakekin?” he asked.

Cassia nodded. “They are primary minions. I doubt they’ll leave their dungeon without a fight, but I will try it your way first.”

He met her gaze, giving a solemn nod in return. “That’s all I’m asking for. If plan A doesn’t work, I’ll leave plan B in your hands.”

“I would prefer to see plan A work,” Adriana admitted, one of her long ears twitching. “Oh, I just remembered. There’s an upgrade I wanted to talk to you about. It improves your gauntlet, allowing you to draw the essence from inorganic materials.”

“Like the way the drones do it?” he asked, instantly curious.

“Yes, though more powerful. If you were to touch something, provided it is not too complex, you would understand exactly how it’s made and gain the Anima source needed to have it crafted at your dungeon. Imagine this table was more ornate, made of perhaps metal and wood both, with a very particular design.” He nodded, following along. “Touching it, focusing on it would give you an understanding of how to make it, and give the Anima sources for wood and metal if you did not have access to them.”

It was easy to imagine the use for such a thing. Keaton could sneak into a dungeon and essentially steal the blueprints for the best designs. That almost did make him feel like a thief. Almost. It was still much better than the alternative.

“That’ll come in handy for this mission. I’ll get the upgrade, and we can plan out the rest of how this is going to go.”

20

The trip to the Valley of Bones wasn’t what Keaton would call pleasant. It took a day and a half just to trudge through the swamps, and while he hated every moment of that, he was begging to go back once the peat bogs dried up and gave way to cracked earth and shifting sands.

True to its name, the Valley of Bones was so unbelievably dry that Keaton felt all the moisture being sucked out of his body not an hour into it. He drank ceaselessly from a waterskin, his minions refilling it from the large jugs they’d brought atop a cart that was being pulled by goblins. Despite the fact that they’d over-prepared for the journey, Keaton was liable to singlehandedly finish off the water supply if he wasn’t careful.

“You will make yourself sick if you drink too much, my lord.”

Adriana had agreed to accompany them, much to Keaton’s surprise. Now he wondered if it wasn’t just to look out for him. He wouldn’t have doubted that in the slightest, and now he was beginning to see why it was necessary.

His clothes were soaked through, and the only reason he hadn’t removed the leather armor the Emvolas had made for him was because Cassia insisted he keep it on.

“Worse for our view, considering your clothing is plastered to your body,” she said with a smirk, “but better for the goal of you not being gutted where you stand.”

He didn’t know if she’d forgiven him yet for his insensitive comment. He didn’t even know quite what was wrong with it, and he wasn’t in the right mind to ask. Keaton could only hope to make up for his words with his actions.

So long as he didn’t keel over and die first.

“Feels like I’m just constantly being wrung out,” he said. “Or like I’m that lakebed over there, except I’m in the middle of watching all the water get sucked away.”

It wasn’t the best metaphor he’d ever made, but to give another one: It currently felt like his brain was slowly being fried like an egg. Clever metaphors were beyond him.

“It will be better once we get inside the cave,” Adriana said. “We cannot be far now.”

And they weren’t. Keaton saw the ruins first, their outline hazy in the relentless heat. The structures looked almost like they were made of clay, their surface a striking orange and smooth. Everything was built high atop a mesa, the structures tall and thin, stacked close together. The buildings themselves had retained most of their structural integrity, though he could see some erosion where they were exposed to the gritty blasts of sand that kicked up on the occasional gust.

“We should check up there first,” he said, nodding toward the ruins.

“We’ll need to navigate to the other side of the rise, anyway, so it’s more or less on our way.”

The climb to get there was none too pleasant. Keaton resisted drinking more water until he couldn’t stand it anymore, then he chugged so much it sputtered back out of his mouth. His lungs burned, feeling as if they were filled with tiny grains of sand. His legs were like jelly, but he forced himself up the mesa.

“Everyone take a look around. Be cautious, though. We don’t know if anyone’s still up here.”

Keaton drew his sword, walking beside Adriana who’d stuck close to him throughout the mission. He approached one set of structures and carefully peered inside. It was clear, though with little of value inside. A sack hung on the wall, devoid of everything but what might have once been onions, given the smell. They’d decomposed completely, just black filth staining the bottom of the bag, so Keaton left it be.

Earthenware bowls sat atop a splintered wooden table, though, and he exchanged a glance with Adriana.

“Probably best to start small, right?”

She nodded, so Keaton switched his sword to his left hand and reached out with the right. He felt that now-familiar hum of power as it coursed along his arm, spreading all the way to his fingertips. Closing his eyes, he focused on the item and forming some kind of connection with it, seeking to draw out the essence of what made it.

An understanding of “Earthenware Bowl” is now available to all workshops.

“That feels just like crushing the source crystals,” he mused.

“More involved matter will take more effort,” Adriana, “and some things you will not be able to break down until you have grown in power.”

That made sense. If dungeon lords were just able to suck the life out of anything — even inanimate objects — whole civilizations would crumble in minutes.

“You should be able to get the material these buildings are made out of, too,” Adriana said.

Keaton would blame his lack of thought on the sun, but the truth was he just hadn’t imagined being able to “break down” an entire building. That wasn’t what he was doing though, and so he moved to the wall and rested his palm flat against it, repeating the process.

Source of Anima: Terracotta.

An understanding of “Terracotta Wall” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Terracotta Roof” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Terracotta Table” is now available to all workshops.

An understanding of “Terracotta Chair” is now available to all workshops.

Adriana was right. It did require more effort, and Keaton felt a little more winded. But the number of items that brought into his mind was more than worth it.

With nothing else in that building, they moved on, finding much the same across several others. The fourth building they reached — full of lots more sacks that contained just very pungent dirt now — finally held something that caught his attention.

“Huh. What’s this?” He crouched in front of a round, earthenware container of sorts, two halves of it carved to fit, with a handle sealing them together.

“I am uncertain. Given the nature of the room, I assume it is some way to cook food,” Adriana mused.

“Couldn’t hurt to try and grab it,” he said, resting his palm against it.

The material was almost hot to the touch, and Keaton realized there was a window positioned perfectly to let the sun in, so it would beat down on the container throughout the day. There was no doubt in his mind this would heat things slowly, much like the ovens he’d seen in tavern kitchens. Unlike those, this one didn’t seem to require any fuel.

An understanding of “Earthen Oven” is now available to all crafting stations.

An understanding of “Stone Latch” is now available to all crafting stations.

An understanding of “Stone Rack” is now available to all crafting stations.

Acquired Rare Source of Anima: Mineral Rich Mud.

“Looks like we’ll be able to make ovens now,” Keaton said with a grin. “Should make food production a lot easier.”

They left the home and stepped out into the sun, the difference in temperature immediately felt. The others were already waiting, with Orbon smacking his lips and Cassia looking annoyed.

“Find anything?”

“Just something that crawled into one of those houses to die,” Cassia remarked, folding her arms over her chest. “That one took care of it.”

She jerked her chin toward the hobgoblin who was busy sucking his teeth. He didn’t seem bothered by the accusation at all, and in fact seemed happier than Keaton had seen him since they set off.

In which case, why not? So long as his putrid breath wasn’t an issue, he was just… cleaning up the environment.

“We got a couple things that will come in handy back home, but it seems like this place was raided a long time ago.”

“Then we should head into the dungeon proper,” Cassia said, “follow me.”

She led them back down the mesa — an easier trek than going up it, especially once they found some old ladders — and toward an opening that was carved in the rock. It was far from an inconspicuous thing. There were sconces on the outside walls which were fashioned almost like steps, marking the entrance as man-made. Two snake-head statues sat at the top of each side respectively, peering down at him from their perch.

Keaton half expected them to materialize into actual snakekin, so he drew his sword just in case. He started to step forward when Cassia grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back.

“Wait,” she hissed. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

“I have told you Lord Keaton is new to this,” Adriana snarled, in a more agitated tone than he’d ever heard before.

“And while he wouldn’t be the shortest-lived dungeon lord, he’ll come pretty close if he goes around triggering traps.”

She gestured down to the ground and Keaton squinted, not seeing it at first. But when the grains of sand scattered a bit with the wind, he finally saw it. A pressure plate. One on each side, in fact. Definitely meant to trigger those statues. For what purpose, he didn’t know.

I’d love to get my hands on one of those, but Cassia will probably kill me if I try to climb up there…

“Thanks for looking out for me. I’ll be more careful from here on out.”

As if to demonstrate, Keaton brought out his unlit torch and raised it to the sconce. The alcohol-soaked cloth wrapped around the top of the stick caught immediately, burning with a bright and violent blaze.

“I’ll go first,” Cassia said just the same, motioning to the warriors she’d brought with her.

Keaton wasn’t about to argue. So long as she didn’t immediately kill anyone they came across, he was fine with her taking the lead. She obviously knew something about this place, and she was the best equipped out of all of them.

As he followed behind, though, a message scrawled across his mind:

You are entering The Slithering Crypt. This dungeon is currently the territory or another dungeon lord. This dungeon lord may be hostile to you. Should they defeat you within their own dungeon, they will absorb your essence and that of any lieutenants or minions.

His skin scrawled not for the danger to himself, but the danger to the people who trusted him. He’d brought them in here. Even though Adriana offered to go, he knew she wouldn’t have thought it a choice. She would go wherever he went, even if that meant following him to his death.

And something told him the next dungeon lord who came across her wouldn’t be anything like Keaton.

Then I’ll just have to fight like hell to stay alive. Hadn’t planned on doing anything else, anyway.

Following behind the larger, taller Emvolas, he started to feel the effect of claustrophobia. The walls were made of the same refined, clay-like material as the buildings up above, only these were carved with some language he didn’t understand, the letters running in a perfectly straight line along the center of the walls.

“Do any of you know what this is?” he asked in a whisper.

“The language of Hestian, the god the snakekin worship. He is the patron of tombs, and his words are often scrawled across the walls of crypts,” Adriana explained. “The dungeon lord has either repurposed an existing crypt, or he wants visitors to be intimidated.”

“What does it say?”

“I am afraid I do not know the exact translation, but it is believed to be the last words someone hears before they cross over into the afterlife.”

Pleasant.

“Let’s just… keep moving,” Keaton said, holding his torch high as he followed behind Cassia.

The two Emvolas detected a couple traps throughout. One that released a noxious gas from the mouth of a snake carving, the other that shot poison darts. Neither were something Keaton was able to acquire with his gauntlet, and he wondered if this dungeon was too advanced for him.

“I think the lord of this dungeon did just inhabit a crypt,” Adriana said, whispering to him. “If that’s the case, these traps are ancient. Even he wouldn’t have been able to break them down.”

“That makes me feel slightly better about my incompetence,” he whispered back.

Only to be overshadowed by Cassia’s loud “shhh!” Her hand was up in a signal for them to wait, and she sent her two warriors forward, to the fork in the path.

It should have been Keaton doing the scouting. He had the experience sneaking about. He could avoid traps now that he knew to look for them. Yet he had a feeling if he brought that up, Cassia would fight him on it; say he was “too valuable” to risk himself like that.

Something about the sentiment bothered him, but for now Keaton resolved to do what he could. He crept closer, sword in hand, and held his breath. The sound of something hard and ridged scraping against the ground filled the passageway, then a distinct rattling noise.

He saw only the glimpse of diamond-patterned scales before the snakekin was being slammed against the distant wall by one of the Emvolas, her spear braced against its throat.

“Don’t kill it!” Keaton hissed out through clenched teeth, pushing his way past Cassia.

The warrior turned to look back at her commander, a mistake even Keaton recognized.

“Don’t take your eyes off of the enemy!”

A loud rattle shook the walls, vibrations moving outward in waves that rattled sand and other debris from the ceiling. Keaton could even feel the movement beneath his feet, as if he were standing atop quicksand.

He realized too late that the creature was using its tail to make that noise, the ridges seeming to vibrate and produce a frequency lower than what Keaton could perceive.

Before the snakekin had the chance to keep doing it, Cassia lunged forward and drove her halberd through his neck. This was already a disaster, and they’d just gotten here.

“I gave orders,” he said in a harsh whisper.

“He was sounding the alarm. You can’t expect me to let him finish,” Cassia fired back, wiping the snakekin’s green, acidic blood into the sand.

“More will be coming.” Adriana’s voice trembled slightly, but to her credit she didn’t hide behind him.

Straining to hear, Keaton was able to catch something in the distance. That same sound of something hard and segmented scraping across the ground. He took the briefest moment to understand what he was up against, looking down at the dead snakekin.

It — he — looked humanoid from the torso up, with sandy brown skin and sharp, reptilian features. His jaw was set in a strange way and a forked tongue lolled out of his mouth. There were some bumpy, bony protrusions on his forehead, but other than that, he just looked like a man. Until Keaton reached the lower torso.

Skin began to transition into copper-colored scales offset with darker brown in a diamond pattern. The body tapered into a thick, muscular tail that served as the creature’s lower limb, that hard, ridged part encasing the end of it like a shell.

The snakekin was armed, he noticed, with a finer weapon than he’d ever had the privilege of wielding. A gleaming scimitar was strapped to the creature’s side, and he was quick to retrieve it.

“Hissers on the way,” Orbon called out, far above a whisper.

With any luck, the scimitar would function at a level half as good as it looked, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

21

Snakekin slithered in from both sides, faster than Keaton would have ever assumed they could move in such confined spaces. He realized belatedly that their tails were gripping the ground and helping to propel them forward. A neat detail, but one that was ultimately meaningless in the face of preparing himself to not die immediately.

He knew there was no chance of talking this through — not right now. Not right here. So Keaton brandished the scimitar, standing in front of Adriana. The hobgoblin had forced his way in to the right, his large body blocking much of Keaton’s view. Cassia stood before him to block the left package, her warriors taking one side each.

The clash of weapons and flesh was sudden and brutal, happening with far more strength behind it than Keaton had prepared for. The hobgoblin was forced back a step, a whirling dervish of blades hurtling toward him. Keaton shot a glance to his left to see Adriana locked in combat with a snakekin who wielded a flail and considered his skills to be best utilized by Orbon.

Of course, he had no plan of fighting far. Crouching low, he picked up a handful of sand and minerals, throwing the clump into the attacker’s face. The snakekin hissed, slashing blindly. It gave the hobgoblin time to block with his bone club and allowed Keaton to duck under one swipe to get behind their foe.

It was just these two who’d come from the alarm, it seemed. Something that seemed really lucky for them when Keaton slashed into the thing’s back with his scimitar and… very little happened. A gash opened up, just not as deep as he would have expected. That bright green blood trickled out, yet the wound closed up mere seconds after he’d made it.

“You have to strike a lethal blow!” Adriana called, pressed against the wall of the passage. “Nothing else will work.”

A lethal blow. Easier said than done, when the snakekin were covered in their own personal armor. Every time he tried to get a slash in, his sword just skittered to the side, the feeling of it against the scales making his teeth ache for some weird reason. He needed to focus; needed to deliver one precise strike that would end it. He’d done that with the first one, getting them right in the neck. That had to be the key.

That, too, was easier said than done. The snakekin wove their long necks around, using them as a way to confuse, to grapple, and to disarm. He’d very nearly had his sword swiped already, and every time the snakekin made a pass at him, it did so with its full body. Keaton sustained another slam, the muscular form sending him sprawling against the wall. His arm hit hard, the scimitar practically wrenched from his hand by the sudden shock of pain. He scrambled to grab it but couldn’t manage to move fast enough.

And the snakekin knew it. It let out a hiss and lunged for him, swords crossed over each other, arms poised to draw them across one another and slice open his throat in an “X.” Keaton threw an arm up, knowing the best he could hope for was to be cut to ribbons rather than immediately killed. He closed his eyes, bracing himself, but the flash of pain never came.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the snakekin stationary in front of him, its own eyes losing their luster, life fading from them. The creature gurgled and Keaton’s gaze moved downward, finding the end of a spear sticking through his attacker’s throat. It was wrenched backward with a sickening sound, the Emvola on the other end giving him a nod which Keaton returned.

I really need better armor, quicker reflexes… something.

Grabbing for the scimitar, he turned to find the other snakekin locked in combat with Cassia. She had it pinned against the opposite wall, her halberd holding its upper body in place. But that powerful tail curled outward, starting to wrap around her legs.

“Cassia look out!” he yelled, acting before he truly thought about it.

He swung the scimitar down in an arc, putting as much into the action as he could. It sliced through muscle, catching for a moment before Keaton powered through, all the way until he nearly hit the stone floor. The snakekin screeched, the sound rattling through the passageways, shaking more dirt loose. Acidic blood oozed out of the open wound, creating a puddle that ate through the flooring. Keaton had just enough self-awareness to jump backward, avoiding the rapidly expanding pool right as Cassia drove the head of her halberd into the snakekin’s chest and wrenched upward, opening him up from just above the collarbone to just below the jaw.

The tail — which had already started to grow back — ceased immediately, and the snakekin collapsed in the pool of its own caustic blood.

“Filthy things,” Cassia said, spitting down at its corpse before she stepped around it.

“Wait, you’re about to step in the—”

Keaton cringed as she slammed one of her hooves down to crush the snakekin’s skull. “It’s a shame such underhanded creatures are able to make such effective armor.”

Apparently the blood didn’t affect her. At least not by seeping into her hoof, because her foot was now smeared in it and she didn’t seem bothered. Keaton wasn’t going to take his chances. He just stepped away, taking a quick look around to make sure everyone was all right. Orbon was breathing heavily, his club covered in blood, but he seemed fine otherwise. The two Emvola warriors were stoic as always. And Adriana gingerly approached, toeing out with one clawed foot to nudge at a body.

Keaton saw the scales shift and furrowed his brow. “Wait. The scales… they’re armor?”

Once the blood stopped flowing, the steam it let off fading, he crouched down and tried to examine the armor without touching it. From a distance, it absolutely looked like the scales of a diamondback rattlesnake, but up close he saw it was made up of thousands of tiny links. Carefully grasping the armor, he lifted it away from the body to get a sense of what it was.

It would’ve been wrong to call it scale mail, even if it appeared to literally be that. It wasn’t metal at all, though. There was some fiber to it that seemed organic, but strong.

“So this upgrade to my gauntlet,” he began, glancing back at Adriana, “do I have to do anything special to use it?”

She shook her head. “No, it functions just as it does for drawing the essence from organic beings.”

Since this definitely seemed to be an organic material, he wondered if he’d even need the upgrade for it. He probably did need to get the entire piece in his hand, though. Keaton considered the dead snakekin and looked for where the scale shirt fastened. He found only one such area at the side, along with a few holes cut into the armor to allow for the bony growths on the snakekin’s back, the bumps altering the human part of the creature even more.

“Don’t bother,” Cassia told him. “You can learn the details of the armor, but you’ll never be able to make it. Only snakekin can make it. They weave it from their shed skin and bind it with fibers of metal thinner than any I’ve ever seen.”

That was… gross. And fascinating. Keaton wasn’t sure which he leaned toward more.

“Maybe we can find a snakekin who won’t immediately try to kill us, then,” he said, pushing himself back to his full height. “And I’d like to find their forge. They might have some pieces that haven’t been used.”

Returning the scimitar to his waist, Keaton stepped over the body of one of the snakekin, peering down the passage.

“I just wish I knew how to press deeper into this place without being immediately branded a threat.”

“We have entered their dungeon,” Adriana pointed out. “You are a rival dungeon lord who has not proven himself outside of his own walls. For all they know, you are just like all the others.”

“You’ve… got a good point. Let’s just stay vigilant, all right? And try to talk to anyone who doesn’t come up to use ready to gut us.”

“Good luck finding anyone like that here, my lord,” Cassia muttered, cleaning her halberd on one of the snakekin’s armor.

Maybe he should have approached things differently. Just gone in by himself to take a look around, and… what? Sneaking up behind someone and putting a knife to their throat, then asking them to join of their own free will wasn’t… ideal. His minions wouldn’t have let him come in alone, anyway, and there were probably more traps in this place than he’d ever be able to find on his own.

There had to be another way. He couldn’t just… fall into what daemon wanted so easily. He didn’t want this crypt to be painted in acidic green blood. He wanted to ransack the place and take as much as he could for his own.

“Let’s move on,” Keaton said, trying and failing to hide his shift in mood. “Let me scout ahead this time.”

“You are too valuable to—” Cassia began.

“I’ll be fine. I survived most of my life sneaking around places where I could have been caught and killed. You’re all here to cover my back, I’ll be mindful of traps, and if I slip up you can say ‘I told you so.’” He looked back at her with a smirk. “Deal?”

He expected her to be stubborn about it. He could see the flash of that in her eyes. But after a moment, she returned his smirk. “So long as I can gloat if you fail, yes.”

Keaton let out a soft snort of amusement, then passed his torch off to Adriana before continuing down the passage. Sticking to the shadows, listening for the smallest sounds deeper within, he felt more in his element. This was the life he was used to. A lucrative drive into a crypt would have been the stuff of legends for him just a few years ago, and he let himself imagine he’d stumbled upon some ancient tomb. Which… he had, he supposed. He just hadn’t been the first to do so.

Sticking close to the wall, he kept a hand on it to feel for vibrations and pick up sounds that would alert him to someone coming. What sound existed was deeper in the crypt, and all he heard was the occasional scrape of scales moving across the stone far below them. No sound of metal hitting metal, no hiss of swords being dunked into water. He had no idea how smoke from the bellows would even escape, as he hadn’t seen a smokestack or chimney atop the ruins.

Moving through the winding passageways, he passed several alcoves that he was careful to check for traps. One appeared to harbor another passageway of some kind — the stonework was a different color, and there was a piece missing — but he wasn’t eager to get lost down secret passages just yet. He kept going, descending deeper into the crypt, down a set of wide stairs to reach a central chamber supported by four large pillars.

“Do you have any idea where the forge might be?” Keaton finally asked. “That’s the biggest thing we need to find here, right?”

“Yes, and almost certainly the most prized location here. These ancient crypts are labyrinths, so there’s no telling where it is besides deeper in,” Cassia said.

Deeper in. That was helpful. Sighing, Keaton looked around. There were three paths exiting the room, one of which they’d just come from. The other two branched in opposite directions, and Keaton found himself wishing he’d actually taken that Sense ability. Maybe then he’d know where the highest concentration of minions was.

As it was, he had to rely on his instincts. And some commentary solicited from his own minions.

“These passages will likely link up,” Adriana said. “The minions need to be able to ascend quickly and in large numbers to combat a full-scale attack, so I do not imagine it matters which path we take further down.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t been jumped my more sentries, honestly,” Keaton said, knowing he’d likely pay for it later. “Everyone keep an eye out.”

He chose the right path and led his party down it, again keeping just out of the light’s circumference. At this level, the path finally started to open up to rooms. Bedchambers, from what he saw, with little lofts that looked almost like nests. There would have been something cute about them if they weren’t for massive snake people.

Stepping into one of the chambers to examine, something crunched beneath his boots. He lifted it to find a patch of shed snakeskin and tried to tamp down his natural urge to shudder.

“We should take that with us, just in case,” Adriana said, pocketing it with delight.

So long as it made her happy, Keaton would get over the fact that it made his own skin crawl. There wasn’t really anything of note in the bedchamber, though. The beds were fairly simple in design, and the only thing he could have seen stealing the design for were the ladders to reach the lofts, but that felt like a waste.

So he moved on, sticking with the group as they passed two more bedrooms. Adriana collected more skin, Cassia stood guard, and Keaton listened for anything he could hear deeper in.

Several rooms later, they finally came across something more than shed skin. The room was unassuming, looking from the outside just like all the others. But inside was stacked full of boxes, crates, bags, and chests. Keaton’s eyes widened as he took it all in.

“What’s the chance this is trapped?” he whispered as Cassia came up behind him.

“High. You, Orbon. Go check that chest at the center of the room.”

“Me not your minion, Emvola,” he groused.

“Yet you are in range of my halberd,” she emphasized this fact by prodding it toward him.

The lumbering creature let out a derisive snort, his crooked teeth clamping together as his jaws snapped shut in warning.

“Would you both knock it off? I’ll check it myself. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve disarmed traps.”

“A dungeon lord’s traps aren’t the same as a regular human’s, my lord,” Adriana started to protest. “They—”

Keaton had already stepped into the room. He pulled the scimitar from his belt and prodded at the chest, sliding the metal into the groove to pry it open. Every muscle in his body tensed, waiting for that cloud of poisonous smoke, or the spring-loaded poison dart, or maybe even some little gremlin curled inside the chest, poised to tear out his throat.

Valfast had used worse deterrents in the past.

But nothing happened. The adrenaline that pumped so suddenly through his veins faded, and Keaton gave a little shrug.

“Looks good. We—”

Keaton reeled from the sudden sensation of something inside his brain, clawing and gnawing in a desperate attempt to get out. His head felt like it was in a vice, being squeezed and squeezed until he was sure his skull would shatter. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, the pain so intense that he felt bile rise swiftly in the back of his throat.

Adriana was at his side in an instant, trying to hold him up as he swayed. Cassia appeared at his other side, lending him her strength as well. Still the world spun, and Keaton was only vaguely aware of a voice scraping the insides of his mind.

And what do you think you’re doing in my home, dungeon lord?

22

“We have to go. We must get Lord Keaton out of here before it is too late.”

“And allow this entire journey to be for nothing? He wouldn’t want such waste.”

“You have no idea what he would want!”

“And you do? You are no lieutenant, dragonling. You cannot even—”

Keaton let out a groan. The voices sounded thick and distant, like he was buried beneath a thousand blankets and people were shouting at his bedside. He wanted to stay buried, honestly. He felt awful.

But as more awareness returned, he realized that his people needed him. Ideally before they tore each other apart.

“Stop,” he managed weakly, his throat not wanting to work. Keaton coughed and tried again. “Stop.”

“Lord Keaton!”

The relief in Adriana’s voice was palpable, and when he forced his eyes open — swollen, it seemed — she was kneeling beside him, her own golden eyes full of concern. She reached out, her fingers warm on his face, the tips of her claws just barely scratching over his skin in a way he found more soothing than anything else.

Then she realized what she was doing and drew back, a blush on her cheeks.

“Oh good, you’re not dead,” Cassia said.

He let out a dry laugh. “Good to know you care.”

Everyone was standing around him. Cassia and her three warriors, along with the hobgoblin, though his attention moved between Keaton and the door.

“Dragonkin right,” he said. “We been here too long. Dungeon lord know where we are.”

The dungeon lord. A splitting pain flared to life behind Keaton’s eyes. There was something he needed to remember, something about this place and its lord, but what was it? Every time he tried to access it, he felt that same bone-deep pain that made his stomach twist into knots.

“Then we will kill them,” Cassia said matter-of-factly, her attention returning to Keaton. “I know you brought us here to scavenge, but if we kill the dungeon lord, this whole place is ours.”

“I just woke up from whatever happened to me. I don’t even know what was in these chests,” Keaton said. “Can I just have a minute to—”

“Hissers!” the hobgoblin bellowed with a snarl.

He leapt into action, surprisingly spry for how large he was. In the flash of movement, Keaton was only able to see a snakekin sent flying, its back slamming against the wall of the storage chamber before the hobgoblin followed to pin it, his jaws open and dripping saliva.

“Pleasssse! I am here to help, pleassse do not hurt me!”

The voice was young and feminine, with an underlying hiss that extended every “s” sound. A fork tongue flared out when the snakekin spoke, and she turned her head away from Orbon, her eyes wide as she looked at Keaton imploringly.

Considering the state he found himself in, Keaton was half tempted to let the hobgoblin do whatever he was going to do. He quickly snapped out of it, though, and even had the presence of mind to feel like shit for having that thought to begin with.

“Let her go,” he ordered.

Cassia’s reaction was immediate. “Are you mad? She is baiting you, waiting for you to reveal your weakness and—”

“She was already in the room before anyone noticed her,” Keaton shot back. “If she wanted to hurt us, she had plenty of opportunity to do so.”

“I don’t! I came to asssssk for mercy,” the snakekin said, openly weeping.

“Let her go,” Keaton said again, gritting his teeth as he struggled to his feet, shrugging off help from both Cassia and Adriana.

He might not have been used to the leadership role, but he was the leader. The fact that everyone was treating him like some fragile object was grating.

Orbon listened, at least. He let go of the snakekin, releasing her neck. She fell like a length of rope pooling on the ground, her tail curling beneath her to cushion the blow.

“I’ll give you a few sentences to explain, but after that, I have to defer to my minions,” Keaton said, approaching the snakekin.

She looked terrified. Reptilian eyes were unnaturally round, so large he could see the boundaries of the sclera. She hunched down, cringing away from him, and Keaton actually felt guilty. If he’d acted this way toward Adriana when they first met, where would they be now?

Quit focusing on what’s expected of you and just… do what seems right, he told himself.

“Go ahead. And take your time to say whatever it is you came here to say,” Keaton encouraged, his voice soft.

That seemed to ease her fear a little. She swallowed, looking up at him. For the first time Keaton realized she was much smaller than the other snakekin. They’d each nearly touched the ceiling of the narrow passageways, but this one was shorter even than a human.

“I… I have wanted ssssome way out of this place ssssince I hatched. Our mistresssss is cruel. She worksss us to the bone in the forge, throwsss us away once we have used up the lasssst of our energy. And that isss if we are lucky, or too young to be of use to her in other waysss.”

It took Keaton a moment to realize what she meant. When he did, he winced. Was every dungeon lord like Lord Havron? Just some hedonistic piece of shit who thought they were entitled to everything, including the bodies of those who unwillingly served them?

Sure, the act of bonding with a lieutenant was rooted in something sexual, but he would never force anyone to… service him. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were.

“I do not expect you to help me for no reassson!” the snakekin continued. “I can work a forge. Not asss well as sssome, but I will improve. I will dedicate my life to that, to you, if you will help me.”

“I’m not sure our forge is up to snuff,” Keaton mused. “We came here to see if we could get some weapon or armor designs.”

“I will take you to the forge!” Her sudden excitement almost surprised him, and the desperation shining in her eyes made his heart hurt.

She’d say anything to get out of here, even if it made her look suspicious. That fact alone made Keaton want to help her. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he’d been duped before. But she seemed painfully sincere.

“This is a trap,” Cassia “whispered” at his ear.

“I ssswear it is not! Pleassse, I will show you. If you sssense anything wrong, ssstrike me down immediately!”

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry about that.”

Keaton turned an incredulous look on his lieutenant. That tone of voice was bone-chillingly disturbing. But Cassia just shrugged.

“I… am inclined to hear her out,” Adriana said, her voice becoming small as she added, “for whatever that is worth.”

Quite a bit, considering what she’d been through. Keaton held her gaze for a moment before nodding.

“Take us to the forge. Help us get a few plans, and we’ll get you out of here.”

“Yesss, of course!” she said, breathless, the rattle at the end of her tail vibrating.

“And if you try to betray dungeon lord I squeeze neck ‘til eyeballs pop out. Then I eat them,” the hobgoblin put in.

Keaton opened his mouth to say something about that, then just shut it again. “Not the threat I would have made, but okay. Let’s just… head to the forge.”

To Orbon’s credit, it did seem to work. She stayed as far away from him as she could, slithering almost silently through the corridors. She stopped at the wall he’d noticed earlier, interacting with it to open up the secret passage. Keaton silently kicked himself for not following through, but for all he knew, the way was guarded.

Which… it was. Or it had been. There were two large snakekin curled on the other side, unmoving. His new guide just contracted the muscles of her tail to get around them without incident.

“Are they… dead?” he whispered. Cassia nudged one with the toe of her boot.

“They are in a hibernation sssstate,” she said, her tone far more detached this time. “It happensss to our kind when we are exposssed to extreme cold. Or to the frostcap plant. They will wake in a few hoursss. I did not want them ssstopping me and asssking questions.”

Keaton blinked, looking between the snakekin and the two large, adult guards. She was half their size, and that was being generous. She also didn’t seem to be an adult herself. Maybe a teen, if he had to guess.

How the hell had she…?

“I like to work with chemicalsss,” she said as if reading his mind. “I wasss born to work a forge, as all our kind are, but that isss not my true passion.”

An alchemist. That could come in handy, too. Then again, their deal hadn’t been for her to join The Labyrinth. He didn’t even know if they could trust her yet, because the frightened girl who’d subjected herself to their mercy also seemed capable of literally poisoning creatures twice her size.

“I do not like this,” Cassia said, stating the obvious again. “There’s something off about her.”

“She has done what she needed to do to survive,” Adriana countered in a whisper. “It’s not something you would understand.”

“Excuse me?”

“Enough,” Keaton hissed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two but knock it off. Right now.”

Both were silent, and both looked contrite in their own ways. It was more obvious on Adriana’s features, her ears drooping. Cassia’s chin ticked upward, meanwhile, and she walked with a more rigid posture.

They continued on without incident, stepping over the hibernating guards. Keaton didn’t have to ask how far away the forge was, he could feel the shift in temperature. It was like they were walking into the earth’s core, the stones around them seeming to hold residual heat. He smelled the smoke, heard the bellows and the tink of metal hitting metal.

Reaching for his scimitar, Keaton prepared to defend himself.

“They won’t attack,” the snakekin assured them. “They want to get out of here assss much asss I do, but if we all sssstop working, our mistresssss will know.”

He nodded. It was a little reckless. They could be walking right into a… well, a pit of vipers. But he trusted the people he’d brought with him. They’d fight tooth and nail on his behalf and their own. And honestly, Keaton just wanted to believe her.

“You will go in first,” Cassia told her. “Tell them to come out, unarmed, and then we’ll see about going in.”

“Of courssse,” the snakekin said, dipping her head in deference.

She turned and slithered toward the forge. The building was inconspicuous, situated in what would have otherwise been an open chamber. Keaton saw a hint of metal grating and heard the snakekin’s tail scrape against it as she entered. Whether that was to allow more heat in or to vent it, he wasn’t sure. He could see what was happening with the smoke, though. It was being pumped into some kind of tube that moved laterally, piercing through the walls of the cave. If he had to guess, it was likely carved up and out somewhere. Maybe used for some other purpose, maybe just pumped into the desert, though he hadn’t seen any signs of smoke.

It was fascinating, and he hoped this was a legitimate offer. Maybe he could learn how it all worked and apply it to The Labyrinth.

“No matter what happens, we should leave after this,” Adriana said. “Hopefully we will have what we came here for, but another fight will draw unwanted attention.”

“Normally I would suggest you stay and kill the dungeon lord — or lady, in this case,” Cassia said, “but so long as we get something out of this, we can always come back later.”

“Why would I even kill the dungeon lady to begin with?” he asked. “She’s treating her minions like shit, sure, but if we take them with us, we’re at least thwarting her plans.”

“Do you really think she cannot just hatch out more snakekin?” Cassia asked. “If she is having the males attend to her often enough, she probably has a clutch ready to go already.”

Keaton blanched at that. “So she’s their… mother?”

“It is possible,” Adriana said. “Dungeon lords have few moral scruples, and it does not sound like she cares whether her children are worked to the bone or not.”

A full-body shudder overcame him. It was bad enough when he thought they were just minions brought in from elsewhere. To think of her treating her own children like this was revolting. Especially if some of the males were—

Yeah, okay. Just not going to think about it.

He was saved even from the possibility as the sound of hard scales scraping over the grates grew closer. Keaton’s fingers closed tightly around the hilt of his newly acquired scimitar, yet the snakekin appeared as promised.

Unarmed. All three of them. Two males, and the female who’d led them here. Keaton’s grip on his sword eased, even if Cassia still had her halberd in a death grip.

“Vrishta sssspeaks the truth, masssster,” one of them said, ducking his head low. He seemed much older than the other two. “We wish to be free of thisss place. Pleassse, name your price and we will pay it.”

“I’m not keeping you here,” Keaton said. “You’re free to go, so long as you don’t hurt me or any of the people with me.”

“You do not undersssstand,” the younger male said. “We wish to join you. To become memberssss of your dungeon and sssserve you.”

“Why would you—” He caught Adriana’s look out of the corner of his eyes and stopped himself. “Ah. The crystal.”

“We cannot ssssurvive without it.”

“Well, we came here looking for more help,” Keaton reasoned. “Are you two blacksmiths?”

“Yesss,” the older male said. “My sssson specializesss in weapons, and I ssspecialize in armor.”

A father and son blacksmithing team sounded especially handy. Keaton looked to Cassia, Adriana, and Orbon, though.

“What do you all think?” he asked.

“They would be able to make much better weapons and armor than what The Labyrinth can currently supply,” Adriana said. “And they will be very loyal if you rescue them from this place.”

“Give goblins chance to do something else. We not made for smithing.”

He was beginning to think goblins weren’t made for much of anything, since they’d protested building, too. Then again, Orbon had made a pretty impressive stew.

“Cassia?” he asked, looking to her.

She was looking past him, at the snakekin. “I cannot deny it would be useful to have better arms, but if they step out of line…”

“Then I’m sure you’ll deal with it,” he told her, offering a nod.

She nodded back. “I will.” That didn’t seem to satisfy her fully, though. She added, “Let’s see this forge first, as well. I want to see if their work is as good as they claim.”

“We will gladly show you,” the older snakekin said. “Pleassse, come with us.”

Keaton followed, confident in the fact that his minions could take care of any danger. He didn’t have the innate sense of his days being numbered, though. And when he stepped into the forge, the only thing he felt was that sweltering heat that seemed to distort his vision so bad he viewed everything through wavy lines.

“If you would like to hold a few itemsss, massster,” the son said, offering a scimitar to him.

Keaton held out his hand on instinct and accepted the blade before realizing he was meant to do more than just look at it. He concentrated, running the fingers of his gauntlet around it. Slowly — more slowly than he was happy with — he could feel the information being drawn into his mind.

Source of Anima: Iron.

An understanding of “Iron Scimitar” is now available to all forges.

He repeated the process with a flail and a ritual dagger, learning how to make both of them respectively. As his mind worked over the problem, he took some time to look at his surroundings.

The forge was massive, with heat definitely seeming to draw up from the ground to help the process. There were three workstations with two separate anvils, and a rack that rotated of its own volition, likely giving the items placed upon it a chance to cool and harden without such a drastic shift from superheated metal to cold bath.

It gave him plenty of ideas, and to his surprise, Keaton received a third message scrawled inside his mind:

An understanding of “Iron Flail” is now available to all forges.

An understanding of “Iron Dagger” is now available to all forges.

The blueprint for “Advanced Forge” is available in The Labyrinth.

“Huh,” he mused aloud. “That’s handy. I just had an idea for how we can build the same kind of forge at The Labyrinth.”

And he was eager to try it out, but they were still keen on showing him things, apparently. The father approached, holding up that diamond patterned scale armor. That Keaton definitely was interested in.

“Thisss is the pride of our kind. Only we can make it,” he said with a smile, the flat of his hand smoothing over the shimmering scales. “I have ssstudied a lifetime and ssstill I am perfecting it. Pleassse. Try it on.”

He held out the scale shirt eagerly, and Keaton was all too happy to accept. It was a bit awkward to slip on over his current armor — he’d have to exchange it back at the dungeon — but it still conformed snugly to him, offering a layer of protection he’d never felt before. Tight enough to feel like it would deflect blades and arrows, but still able to move as he did. He tested out that theory, moving his arms, puffing his chest out and relaxing it again.

“This stuff is amazing,” he said, voice filled with awe. “And you can make more of this?”

“Only I can, yesss.”

Keaton met the older male’s gaze. As deferential as he’d been, there was a cunning there. This one was smart, and definitely wise enough to know what he needed to do to save his own skin.

Pulling off the scale shirt — a lot more difficult than putting it on — he held it in his hands and concentrated. Nothing happened.

“Is that why I can’t understand its essence?”

He already knew the answer, but the snakekin nodded.

“I will make armor for your armiesss, massster. I will supply you with scalesss from my own flesh if you wish it. But I refussse to see my sssson subjected to the whimsss of our mistresss.”

His tone had changed. Before, he seemed almost frail. Just an old craftsman trying to get by. Now, it was clear to Keaton there was a strength in him — at least as far as protecting his son was concerned. It was something he could respect, and though he had no children of his own, he imagined he would have felt the same.

“Then you two will come back to The Labyrinth with us and help us build a forge, then you’ll get to work on weapons and armor. I’ll keep you fed, give you a place to sleep, and I’ll pay you as soon as I can. Deal?”

“That isss very graciousss of you, Masssster,” the father said.

“I’m no one’s master,” he said, making a face. “You can call me Keaton. Or Lord Keaton, if you insist.”

“My ssson and I are at your disssposal then, Lord Keaton,” the snakekin said with a bow. “If you wish to use our namesss, mine is Yurgetse, and my ssson is Ankhaga.”

“Good to have you both aboard.”

He made introductions for the others. While Cassia was a bit standoffish, she didn’t seem to hate this idea as she had earlier. Adriana was friendly, if reserved. And Orbon didn’t threaten to pop out anyone’s eyes, so Keaton considered that progress.

There was one person missing, though…

“What about Vrishta?” Ankhaga asked.

She stood off to the side, just watching all of them. Her arms were wrapped about her middle and she looked at Keaton with pleading eyes.

“I know I am not a sssmith, but I can create potionsss and elixirsss with the right herbs.”

“I hadn’t planned to put you to work in the forge,” Keaton affirmed. “You can join as The Labyrinth’s herbalist. Same benefits apply. Sound good?”

“I would be honored.” Her eyes lit up, that reptilian slitted pupil dilating.

“We need to get out of here,” Cassia said. “Finish up and let’s go.”

Keaton nodded in agreement. It was pure luck they hadn’t attracted any more attention yet, but that luck wouldn’t hold out. It never did.

“Get anything you want to bring with you and meet us up top,” he told the snakekin. “We’ll get you out of here and make a home for you in The Labyrinth once we complete the ritual.”

Yurgetse took point, directing the others to stuff some weapons and armor into sacks. Keaton took the others back the way they’d come, and though he could still hear more snakekin slithering below, none came to bother them.

That’s… weird. I can’t be the only one who thinks so.

As soon as he had the thought, another joined it. Only this one wasn’t in his own voice.

‘Consssider it a gift, young lord. One you will repay when the time issss right.’

His hand instantly flew to his scimitar, the sudden tension in his body putting Cassia on alert.

“What is it?” she asked, signaling for her warriors to surround him as a living shield.

But the moment she asked the question, Keaton just… didn’t know. There was a gap there; a hole in his short-term memory.

“I think I just heard something deeper inside. Let’s just keep moving,” he said, unable to shake that sense of unease as they ascended.

23

They made it to the entrance of the dungeon without any trouble, which was as much a surprise to Keaton as it was to everyone else.

There was something to be said for having the gods on your side, or whatever, but he had a hard time believing they were smiling on his rag-tag band of thieves. Maybe Hestian, but he was an asshole, and his regard always came with a price. Considering he was the patron deity of most daemons, too, it only made sense.

If Hestian was watching, there was every chance they would be fucked when they least expected it. That was how he operated, getting his jollies by causing as much chaos as possible. Keaton might have been agreeable to it before, but not now. The stakes were already higher, and there were people depending on him to not mess this up.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to indulge a little to silence the unease, though. Once they set up camp for the night — at the edge of the desert, where the stocky trees and scrub brush began to grow again — Keaton cracked open one of the wine bottles he’d pilfered from the dungeon and took a big swig before offering it to Adriana.

“I’d say we all deserve this.” He plunked down on a half-rotted log, using a stick to poke at the fire. “The mission went mostly as planned, we got what we came for, and we all made it out alive.”

Adriana considered the bottle of wine, and for a moment he wondered if he’d committed some grave sin. But she took a drink — a very long drink, one where Keaton found himself staring lewdly at the way her throat worked, remembering the daemon’s games from the other night. Heat rose in his face and he looked away from her, returning to the task of minding the fire.

“I admit I am ssssurprissed our mistressss did not put up a fight. It worriessss me,” Yurgetse said, accepting the wine from Adriana.

“You think she hasss something planned?” Vrishta asked.

“Of course she has something planned.”

They all looked at Cassia who was still standing, arms folded over her chest. Her two warriors flanked her, their expressions similarly grim, though one was eyeing the wine bottle with interest.

While she hadn’t exactly been the friendliest person, there was a shift in the way Cassia acted since they’d come to this place. She was sterner, more reserved, her interest not on the thrill of competition, but on some sort of duty she felt she needed to carry out. He’d felt her watching him, judging him, and he didn’t much care for it.

“If you have something to say, Cassia, you might as well say it.”

One swig of wine and he was already feeling punchier than he should. That urge to confront his lieutenant was like an itch under his skin, and Keaton couldn’t help scratching.

Weird. I’m not usually so ready to jump down someone’s throat like this.

It was probably just the stress of his new position, and all the changes he’d endured lately. At least he hoped that was what it was. Otherwise this might be a permanent personality trait he’d suddenly acquired when he accepted the gauntlet. And that would be… shitty, honestly.

“We did what we set out to do. You are right about that, Lord Keaton.” She snatched the bottle away from one of the snakekin and took a generous gulp before handing it back. “But there is unfinished business here, and I have never known a dungeon lord who had no interest in taking the power of other lords as his own. It is how your kind survive.”

“Well it’s not who I am. Or… not who I want to be.” He pushed the darker memories aside. It was time for a new start. “If we have to do it, then fine. But I’m not going to risk lives by provoking fights for no reason.”

“There is always a reason, even if it’s only to stop others from doing the same thing to you,” she said, her emerald gaze fixed on him. Keaton had to fight hard not to squirm under her scrutiny. He’d never been in the army, but he felt like he was being dressed down by a commanding officer. “What happens when this dungeon lord comes to The Labyrinth and takes back what’s hers and then some?”

“Then we’ll defend ourselves,” Keaton said, sparing a longing gaze at the wine bottle as it was passed around far from him.

After a beat, he realized he didn’t have to wait. It might not have been the smartest idea to break into another bottle but fuck it. Keaton needed the buzz.

“I’m not going to murder someone unprovoked.” Not anymore, at least.

“Yet stealing from them is just?” one of Cassia’s warriors spoke up.

“And you must have killed the previous lord of The Labyrinth,” said the other.

Keaton looked across the fire, searching for any backup. The snakekin averted their gazes and pretended not to listen. Orbon made no such pretense, but he also didn’t look too bothered one way or another. His focus was mostly on the fat rodent he had skewered over the fire, its corpse charred to a crisp.

Even Adriana seemed inclined to avoid this fight. She met his gaze but shook her head slightly. “I told you I have never met another dungeon lord like you, Lord Keaton. I do not think it is a bad thing, but we will need to shore up our defenses.”

She rushed out the words, then took the bottle from him and downed so much she started to cough, the purple-red liquid sputtering from her lips and staining her silver scales.

“Easy,” he said, reaching out to rub her back without thinking about it.

She didn’t flinch away from him. She didn’t even hesitate. To Keaton’s surprise, she leaned into his touch, pressing closer to him so that their thighs touched on that log.

Okay, she’s definitely had too much to drink.

He plucked the bottle out of her grasp and brought it to his lips again before offering it to Cassia and her warriors.

“Lord Havron was different,” he finally said. “He was mistreating Adriana.”

“They all mistreat their minions,” she answered with a huff. “Beat them, rape them, work them to the bone. This is part of the pact minions accept to get what they need.”

“But I’m not—”

She leaned forward, and for a moment Keaton thought she might ram him with those deadly horns. But she grabbed him by the collar instead, forcing him to look at her.

“If you want to change things, you’ll have to use strength to do it. That is the only thing dungeon lords understand.”

“Can’t we just…”

Keaton let his words trail off, realizing how naive they sounded. Can’t we just stick to our own dungeon, play house by ourselves, and ignore the outside world? It was a nice thought, but even he knew that wasn’t going to happen. If nothing else, the daemon who’d made this deal with him wouldn’t let him rest. She needed something, and he suspected it wasn’t the recipe for domestic bliss.

Silence fell over the camp, interrupted only by the sickening pop of blistered flesh as the rodent carcass became indistinguishable from charcoal. Orbon pulled it from the skewer, seemingly not bothered by how hot it was, and chomped down on what Keaton assumed was once the creature’s head.

“We should all get some rest,” he muttered. “I’m gonna go take a piss, then I’ll take first watch.”

He needed some air; needed some space from this suffocating camp. Needed to do something about that clawing inside his brain that tried to point him back toward the crypt.

Keaton’s mind was a bramble sinking into a fetid bog.

He’d always had periods of dark thoughts, but these were darker than normal. As he walked, patrolling the surrounding area, he found himself wondering if he should ever go back to the camp. Something inside of him said this conflict was just the start of many. That he wasn’t meant to be a leader, and his lieutenant knew that. Why else would she challenge him so?

It didn’t matter that Keaton logically knew she’d been one for challenge when he met her. It didn’t matter that this was a fair disagreement to have, when he was going against the grain. For some reason, his brain latched onto this feeling of betrayal, and the warm embrace that could be offered to him if he just… left. It was the strangest feeling, and Keaton shook it off several times. As he made his way back to camp, spotting the smoke as it drifted upward in the night sky, he couldn’t help feeling as if those weren’t his thoughts at all.

“If you’re trying to fuck with me, don’t waste your time,” he grated out.

“Lord Keaton?”

He hadn’t realized how close he was to the camp when he spoke. He also hadn’t realized he wasn’t the only one awake. Despite taking a fairly long walk to give everyone time to wind down, he returned to find Adriana still awake and alert, her golden eyes fixed on him in question, her brow furrowed with obvious worry.

“Sorry, just… thinking out loud,” he said, offering a half-hearted smile. “What are you doing up?”

“I wanted to speak with you,” she said, her voice quiet. Her hands wrung together in front of her, but she didn’t avert her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I didn’t feel like it was my place.”

“I know you’re not a lieutenant, but you’re a trusted advisor. I always want to hear your opinion.”

She was quiet for a moment, processing his words. Keaton gestured to the log they’d been sitting on before and she joined him there, adjusting her tail so it settled behind her instead of under her.

“I can give it now, if you wish,” she said softly.

Keaton just nodded, giving her an encouraging smile.

“I think it is admirable that you wish to avoid killing…”

“But…?”

“But I do think it is naive,” she finished, looking away from him.

On instinct, Keaton reached out to grasp her chin. Her scales were smooth and cool under his fingers, her more human skin warm by contrast. He turned her to face him once more and was caught for a moment as her lips slowly parted. Something urged him to lean forward and bridge the distance. He could see that yearning in her eyes, could practically feel the fine tremble of anticipation in her body. It was in his own, too, that moment suspended in time as his gaze moved between her eyes and her lips.

But Keaton controlled himself, blinking away the haze of want. He focused only on her eyes, ignoring the disappointment he saw there.

“Don’t be afraid to speak your mind with me, Adriana. I’m not going to punish you for it.”

“I know.” Her voice was so quiet; barely above a whisper.

“I appreciate the honesty. I’m from a world that’s pretty much built on lies, so this is… refreshing.” He glanced over to where Cassia rested, her halberd clutched close even in sleep. “Even being challenged is refreshing. It’ll keep me from getting too much of an ego.”

A smile stretched across her lips but didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Then why do you look so troubled?”

Keaton opened his mouth to refute that, but if she was going to be honest with him, didn’t she deserve the same courtesy? He allowed himself a few moments to collect his thoughts, to decide if he was really going to do this, then began to speak.

“I wasn’t brought to The Labyrinth by choice. I had no idea what it was or what I was doing there. I was sitting in a jail cell awaiting execution just a few minutes before I killed Lord Havron.”

Adriana’s eyes widened, her mouth working for a few moments before she finally managed, “How can that be?”

“I was approached by a spirit. A daemon.”

Something flashed in her eyes, like fire and fury made manifest. Her expression darkened, her lips pulling almost into a snarl, exposing those sharper canines.

“Daemons are not to be trusted,” she said in a low growl that Keaton found equal parts alluring and terrifying.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I want women who can break me in half?

A question to examine another time. For now, he had to calm Adriana down. “I’m aware. She didn’t leave me any choice. It was either do what she wanted or die. So… I let her bring me to The Labyrinth and I killed Lord Havron.”

Her expression changed, that anger faltering until it was snuffed out by something Keaton liked much less: Another round of disappointment.

“I thought perhaps you’d wished to save me… I’m sorry, that’s so foolish. Here I am telling you you’re naive, when I—”

“I did,” he said quickly, cutting her off. “I thought about just walking away and taking my chances… until I saw the way he was treating you.”

Adriana met his gaze once more, and Keaton felt himself falling into those golden depths. He drifted closer, nearly able to feel her breath on his face. Then she jerked away from him, breaking the spell. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and looked anywhere but at him, so Keaton obliged by sitting back and giving her space.

An awkward silence settled in the space between them, though he soon found himself contemplating his dilemma. Eventually, he spoke his thoughts aloud.

“I just… I spent so much of my life at the whims of others. For once I wanted the chance to control my own destiny.”

Adriana was silent for a long moment. He looked over at her, finding the dragonkin’s gaze on him once more.

“Sometimes it’s about more than destiny.”

Reaching out, she touched his face, the softest stroke over his cheek before she pulled away. Keaton watched as she stood, distancing herself from him.

“I should rest,” she managed in a small voice. “Wake me if you need me?”

Keaton gave her a soft smile. “I will.”

As she settled down on the clump of straw that served as a bedroll, Keaton fed the fire a few more sticks, watching the blaze dance in the twilight. With only the sound of insects chirping in chorus, he was left with his thoughts once more, and they all pointed him toward one inevitable outcome:

When they broke camp in the morning, Keaton was going back to that crypt. With or without his companions.

24

No one questioned him when he said they were going back to The Slithering Crypt in the morning.

No one seemed all that gung-ho about it, either. He’d expected Cassia to at least show some excitement, some eagerness to get in there and bust some skulls, but she was almost pensive as they packed up camp. It wasn’t until after they departed that she pulled him aside and let him know why.

“You should not cave to a position just because your lieutenants think it is a good one.”

Keaton stared at her incredulously, stopping in his tracks and holding up their mini caravan. “Are you serious right now? You wanted me to go challenge this dungeon lord. You said it’s either her or us. So I’m doing it.”

“Because it is tactically sound, or because it is what I told you to do?”

“Because I made the decision,” he snapped. “And I don’t appreciate the fact that you keep challenging my authority at every turn.”

“You didn’t mind it so much when I was riding your cock,” she hissed in return.

Keaton had the grace to blush, though he wasn’t sure if it was redness from embarrassment or anger. He shouldn’t feel angry. He’d known what he was getting from her. Yet there was this niggling voice in the back of his head that said she was undermining him on purpose; that she didn’t respect him and would jump at the chance to usurp him. He found himself listening to that voice, leaving her side mid conversation and heading onward, ahead of the party.

No one disturbed him. They trekked back through the desert in near silence. Only once they reached the crypt did Keaton give any further instruction on the matter.

“Yurgetse, Ankhaga, Vrishta, you know the layout of this place?’

“Yesss,” Vrishta said. “The passage I showed you is but one of many. It will take ussss to the lower chambers, if you are looking to reach our former mistressss as quickly as possible.”

“I’d rather not kill any more snakekin if I can help it. Though I realize they’ll probably rush to defend her,” he said before Cassia could point out the obvious.

“If we can reach her chambers, I will post my warriors as sentries to watch for more snakekin while I distract the dungeon lady.”

Right. He’d need to pierce the crystal before he had any hope of killing her. He’d forgotten about that. Or rather, there seemed to be a fog in his mind that obscured it. It was a strange feeling, but when Keaton thought on it for more than a moment, things were clear again.

“Orbon no match for dungeon lady,” the hobgoblin said. “Help warriors kill hissers.”

“My boy and I have ssssome sssskill with weaponsss, but we will be no help against our former mistressss. We are technically ssstill her minions, and she can command usss if she wishesss,” Yurgetse said.

Shit. That was going to pose a problem.

“Maybe it’s best for you two to stay topside, then. Vrishta can show us the way, then I want you to join the others,” he said, nodding to her. “If you’ve got any spare potions, we’ll probably need them once this is over.”

“Yesss, masssster,” she said, her tongue flicking out in what looked like an anxious gesture.

“I do not think I will be much help in a fight, either, but I do not wish to stay with the others,” Adriana put in. “I belong at your side, my lord.”

Cassia let out a soft snort that Keaton chose to ignore. Whatever rivalry was happening there, he wanted no part in it. And he refused to feel bad about enjoying the dragonkin’s company and her loyalty to him.

“I don’t like the thought of you being in danger, but maybe you can act as our eyes down there. Point out things we can’t see.”

“I will do as you wish,” she said with a determined nod.

“Alright. I think we have a plan. Let’s head down and see what we’re up against. We can adjust things if we need to, but I think this will be a good start.”

Confidence surged in Keaton; more than he had any right to feel. That and a desperate need to get to the bottom of that crypt as quickly as possible.

Vrishta led them through the tunnels, her tongue continuing to dart in and out of her mouth, the rattle on her tail making a racket until Cassia barked at her to stop.

“I am ssssorry, but even now I can feel the mistressss’ influence,” she whimpered, ducking her head.

“How far is it from here?” Keaton asked, resting a palm against the cool stone passage.

“Continue along this path, then take the firsssst right you see. Thisss will take you to the ssstaging room, which is closssse to the Crystal Chamber where you will likely find the mistressss.”

He nodded, offering her a sympathetic smile. “Go. We’ll make it from here.”

“Thank you, masssster,” she hissed, turning quickly in the cramped space.

“I told you I don’t want you calling me—”

His words trailed off as he watched the snakekin’s retreating form. She was as fast as the guards they’d fought earlier, her tail pulling her along with ease. In just a few moments, she disappeared from Keaton’s view.

“Alright then,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s keep moving.”

They continued as instructed, with Keaton stopping the party to listen for the sound of movement beyond. There was none. Every step of the way, all he heard was the echo of their footsteps. It was eerily quiet, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

“This is a trap,” Cassia said, gripping her halberd tightly. “She knows we’re coming.”

Keaton opened his mouth to agree, every shred of common sense telling him to turn back around. But that fog returned to his mind, and what came out of his mouth was, “Are you questioning my orders, lieutenant?”

Cassia squared her jaw, her nostrils flaring as she settled a firm glower on Keaton. “No, my lord. As you command, my lord.”

“Now I wish I had just let you lay there,” he said with a sneer. “At least then you’d know your place.”

He heard Adriana gasp, and even Cassia’s eyes widened, a flash of hurt in them. It wasn’t regret that Keaton felt, though. It was horror, because those words weren’t any he would have ever said. They just sprung from his mouth unbidden, like something was controlling him from afar.

Or someone.

Keaton opened his mouth again to let the others know, but his jaw snapped shut. He was forced to move, his limbs operating independent of what his mind wanted. It was a terrifying feeling, being trapped in the prison of his own body, but there was no fighting it. For all that he tried, it was as if a massive, impossible weight fought against him. It pulled him onward, kept him silent, and dragged Keaton and his party into the bowels of the crypt.

Right where she wanted them.

By the time they reached the very empty staging room, his companions were on high alert. Keaton fought hard, thrashing within his mind, trying to make something happen. With a sudden, violent burst of energy, he slammed his fist down on the table. Pain shot through his fingers, the shock of it rattling his bones.

“Something is happening,” Adriana cried. “We must go. Help me get him out of here.”

He could feel her and Cassia both tugging on him, shoving him, trying to get him to move.

And then there was nothing.

He existed outside of their reach, in a place no one else could touch him. No one save for the one person he desperately wanted to lay her hands all over him. This was what he’d yearned for, what had brought him back to this place. This carnal need that sent a shot of lust through his body, his blood surging downward, his pulse roaring in his ears.

“That’sss it,” came a smoky, seductive voice. “Come to me, my handsome dungeon lord.”

Keaton moved forward, through a doorway that seemed to shift, suddenly appearing behind him. Some part of his mind recognized it as strange, but that didn’t matter. His gaze was fixed ahead, waiting for the revelation of what he’d sought for so long.

And there she was. Perched atop a dais, her form radiant in its beauty. Flawless, dusky skin glowed with a warmth that begged him to touch. Almond-shaped eyes were half-lidded and looking at him as if he was the only person in the world, their violet irises beckoning him in. Black hair fell in silken strands, gathered in loose bunches past her shoulder. She was perfection, and that was just from the neck up.

As his gaze continued downward, Keaton found a beauty that was almost painful to behold. Markings adorned her skin, black ink dotted with glinting gemstones. The swirling patterns flowed over her arms, her clavicle, down to her bare chest. Two pert, dusky nipples presented for him, hard and begging to be sucked. Breasts that were no more than a handful — the perfect size — lent a softness to her lean body, her abdomen blending seamlessly with the shimmering black scales of her large, powerful tail, the yellow and black rings signaling something in the back of his mind that he ignored completely.

“Let usss become better acquainted, lover,” she practically purred, her forked tongue flicking out from between painted lips. “I wish to feel what I know to be true.”

Keaton walked forward on shaky legs. The rest of the room fell away, leaving just the two of them. There was no fear. No hesitation. He went to her willingly. Even when he heard her tail shift, the powerful appendage curling behind him, he wasn’t worried. As she pulled him closer with it, he felt safe. As if this was where he should have been all along.

“And what is that?” Keaton asked, his voice rough with desire.

“That you are my equal,” she whispered in his ear, her tongue snaking out to flick at the lobe. Keaton shivered in response. “Ssssomeone to rule beside me. Would you like that, Keaton? To never be quessstioned again? To have ssssomeone strong by your sssside, who adores you for everything that you are?”

As she spoke, her fingers walked a trail down his body. She continued to his pants, slipping beneath the band. Long, deft digits grasped his cock, stroking slowly. Keaton’s head fell back, and a moan escaped him.

“Yes,” he answered, the word shaking, his knees buckling under her touch.

She let out a husky chuckle and wrapped her tail more tightly around him, offering more support. “Go on,” she breathed, her gaze flicking down to her chest. “I know you want to.”

He did want to. More than anything. Her perfect breasts were nearly at eye level, and Keaton indulged. One hand moved up the serpent’s human torso, fingers gliding over smooth skin to cup her breast. He squeezed, enjoying the warmth and fullness against his palm before he leaned forward to flick his tongue against one hardened peak. The serpent gasped, a sinful moan escaping her that sent a pulse of pure lust through Keaton’s body. He responded in the only way he could: By drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking.

“Yesss, that’ssss it,” she said, arching against him, her fingers grasping his cock with slow, firm strokes. “Look at me, my love. My equal.”

Keaton raised his eyes to meet hers, finding endless depths in those violet pools. She lowered her head, lips parted, and he released her nipple with a loud pop, eager to meet her in a kiss.

“Keaton!”

The desperate cry came from somewhere distant, but it was enough to break his focus. He started to search for the source, Adriana’s face appearing in his mind as if in a flash of memory. But the serpent’s fingers grasped his jaw, directing him back to her. She continued to bend toward him, her tail drawing him closer and closer. Keaton could practically taste her lips, so close to where he wanted to be—

Something tugged him backward, sending him sprawling. He had no time or awareness to catch himself, but he could see everything that had been lost to him for several minutes now. The Crystal Chamber, a large, violet crystal casting a sinister glow over the room. His companions fighting off hordes of snakekin that poured in from two sides. The lady of the dungeon — just as beautiful as she’d been in the illusion she’d created, but with an underlying malice he could feel in the depths of his soul now.

And Adriana, her small body braced in front of his, her form quickly encircled by the serpent’s deadly tail.

“No!” Keaton cried out, his voice hoarse.

The dungeon lady squeezed around Adriana’s torso, the pressure so much that he swore he heard bones crack. He saw the dragonkin’s eyes bulge out of their sockets, her hands clawing fruitlessly at the tail as the serpent lifted her off the ground.

Then he looked on in horror as she was flung across the room, slamming into the wall and crumpling to the ground.

The dungeon lady’s eyes turned to him, no longer filled with adoration. There was pure loathing there, and when she opened her mouth, two fangs dripped with venom, ready to go for the strike Adriana had denied her.

25

He couldn’t move.

Her tail wasn’t wrapped around him anymore, but still Keaton couldn’t seem to move. And he had to. He had to live so he could help Adriana, so he could get these people who’d trusted him out of here. Gods, was this really how he was going to die? Causing pain and suffering to others?

Not today, you cunt.

Fighting past his body’s reluctance, Keaton grabbed for his sword and thrust it upwards just as the serpent lunged at him. The blade struck true, sliding through flesh with a sickening squelch. Hot blood gushed over his hand and down onto his face, but the serpent didn’t stop coming.

It was all Keaton could do to wrench the sword in deeper, the blade buried between the breasts he’d been so spellbound by moments ago. It wouldn’t be enough to kill her. He hadn’t done anything to the crystal yet. But if he could buy the others time, maybe…

The serpent let out a long, hissing screech, blood gushing from her neck as a halberd pierced straight through. He could see her throat, the muscle working, reforming itself around the blade. That wasn’t enough to kill, either, but it’d bought him some time.

“Let’s go!” Cassia roared, yanking the halberd back out so it left another wound on the return.

Keaton didn’t waste any time. He scrambled out from under the dungeon lady, pushing himself to his feet. Sheer adrenaline kept him standing, because he was sure his legs would have been turned to jelly otherwise.

“Adriana,” he said, rushing over to her crumpled, broken body.

“We’ll cover you,” one of the Emvola warriors said, seemingly in answer to the rattles of what sounded like hundreds of snakekin converging on the Crystal Chamber.

“Do what you want do, dungeon lord. I saving own hide,” Orbon said, lumbering past all of them.

He couldn’t blame the man. He’d gotten all of them into this situation. How could he ask any to lay down their lives?

Scooping Adriana into his arms, Keaton looked back at the dungeon lady long enough to see the horror scene that was the massive snakekin smearing her tail through a vast pool of blood as her wounds healed themselves. Forcing himself to look away, Keaton ran for the entrance where Cassia was waiting.

“Once we make it into the passage, call your warriors back,” he instructed, slipping inside at Cassia’s frantic gesturing.

She didn’t answer, lingering outside the passage for only a moment before she followed Keaton.

“What are you doing?!” He tried to push his way past her, to call out, “You two, let’s go! Just leave it!”

“You will not dishonor my warriors by ordering them to give up their chance at a valiant death protecting their leader,” Cassia growled. “This is their duty. Their destiny. And we will all die if they don’t make this sacrifice.”

He stood for a moment, slack-jawed, helpless as he looked past her.

“Go!” she shouted, practically shoving him.

This time, Keaton listened.

Adrenaline carried him through the winding passages. It even allowed him to sidestep the snakekin who tried to block their exit. But by the time Cassia ran her halberd through the second one’s skull, Keaton was almost out.

The only thing that kept him going at that point was sheer determination. That and a healthy dose of guilt that made itself apparent every time he looked down at Adriana, her body limp and lifeless in his arms.

“Please don’t die,” he whispered imploringly, grateful for the blistering heat that scalded his face as they surfaced from the crypt.

“What happened?” Vrishta exclaimed, reaching for her pouch.

“No time to explain, and no time to heal just yet. We need to get somewhere safe.” Cassia looked behind them, a stricken expression on her features. “We need to get back to The Labyrinth.”

“Here, I have a potion that will sssstabilize her for now,” Vrishta said, uncorking a vial.

Keaton obliged, laying Adriana down on the cart they’d initially brought for supplies. The younger of the two male snakekin helped hold her mouth open as Vrishta poured the potion down her throat. Already her color looked better, the pallor of her skin no longer matching her scales.

“Is everyone prepared to push on through the night if it comes to that?” Cassia asked, grabbing hold of the cart, obviously intending to pull.

“I’ll help you,” Keaton said, ignoring the way his head swam as he tried to step toward his lieutenant.

“Conserve your strength.” Her tone was as severe as ever, but it softened after a moment as she added, “Stop punishing yourself. We all knew the risks. You didn’t order us to do this, we joined you.”

Keaton looked away from her, that guilt sinking in his stomach like the heaviest stone. If nothing else, they needed him to keep it together so that everyone — or everyone who was left, anyway — could make it back to The Labyrinth safely. If he threw himself a pity party, he was just damning the lot of them, throwing their lives away with even less care than he’d shown before.

“Let’s go, then. Everyone keep pace.”

The trip back to The Labyrinth was uneventful, and yet Keaton felt on edge the entire time. He kept looking to Adriana, trying to see if there was any change in her. Vrishta walked alongside the cart, monitoring her condition, and every now and again she’d catch Keaton’s eyes and shake her head. It was clear they wouldn’t know anything more until they returned, but even then, Keaton had no idea what to do.

So he went about it the way he always did with things he didn’t understand: He made it up as he went.

“Orbon, see if your people have any healing supplies. Herbs, poultices, maybe even a potion or two.”

“Maybe herb. No potion,” Orbon said with a shudder. “Potions give bad dreams; bad dreams turn into bad life.”

He didn’t have time to philosophize about the nature of nightmares with the hobgoblin, so Keaton just thanked him and moved on.

“Vrishta, I’m going to get a workstation built for you as quickly as I can. We’ll turn one of the empty chambers into a lab, but for now I need you to see if you can make anything from our gathered materials.”

“Of courssse, massster.”

“I’ll send the drones out looking for anything that might help, and the goblins can help build.” He turned to Cassia then, a stab of guilt winding through him. “Can you and your warriors post up throughout The Labyrinth and a little ways around it, just in case anything follows us from The Labyrinth?”

“Yes, we will keep the perimeter secure. Focus on Adriana.”

Her gaze softened as she looked over her shoulder at the dragonkin. For all their squabbles, for all the rivalry that had been brewing, it seemed Cassia didn’t actually hate her.

She might hate me now, though.

He’d have to apologize when there was time for it. Right now it would be rushed and distracted, and her warriors deserved better than that.

Cassia gave him a nod, then hoisted the arms of the cart for one last push into the dungeon proper. The only minions without jobs were the father and son blacksmith, and technically…

“Shit, I’ll need to make you all minions first. Let’s go take care of that. Then Yurgetse, Ankhaga, unless you know anything about healing, I think your time’s best served making armor for everyone. Once the goblins are done building a workstation for Vrishta, I’ll have them help you get the forge up to snuff.”

“That ssssounds agreeable, Lord Keaton,” the older one said, finally using his correct title.

Keaton followed Cassia, taking everyone through the corridors and passageways to reach the Crystal Chamber.

“I would advise keeping her as close to the crystal as you can,” Cassia said. “She’ll draw strength from it.”

So saying, the Emvola gently rested the cart, then departed the chamber, calling for her remaining warriors.

“Orbon, go fetch a pallet and bring it in here so I can lay her down.”

Keaton lifted the dragonkin into his arms, ducking his head down and putting his ear near her mouth. He felt and heard her breathing still, but it was very, very weak. As soon as the pallet was brought in, he gently laid her upon it, then went to interface with the crystal, beckoning the three snakekin to join him.

The Labyrinth has gained new minions.

The Labyrinth has acquired the allegiance of:

2 snakekin blacksmiths

1 snakekin herbalist

“Okay, you three are officially minions of The Labyrinth now. You’re under my protection, and if something is going on here that you don’t like — if anything we do ever makes you think of your old dungeon — let me know. Got it?”

All three nodded, their tongues flicking out. With that covered, Keaton sent Vrishta to oversee the construction of her workstation, then advised the two blacksmiths to get started, as well.

Everyone cleared out for their tasks, leaving Keaton alone with Adriana and the occasional drone who skittered through en route to somewhere else. He knelt beside the pallet, his hand cradling her face, fingers brushing back wayward strands of hair. She looked so frail, just moments from slipping away forever. It chilled him to the bone, and Keaton felt that surge of helplessness once more.

It only grew as the day wore on.

Teas, poultices, potions, elixirs, even the magic of the Emvola. They all made marginal differences at most, and the majority seemed to do absolutely nothing to improve her state. Maybe her superficial wounds were healed. Perhaps even a bone or two was set. But if she never woke up, what did it matter?

Keaton tried everything. He even pulled the pallet right next to the crystal and lifted her hand to touch it, hoping she might draw strength from it. There was a brief moment where he thought that might work, her hand glowing with a soft red light, yet it faded and left her looking paler than before.

“Please. Just wake up, Adriana,” he said softly, stroking her face. “You shouldn’t be the one to pay for my mistakes.”

“That is often the way of things, isn’t it?”

That familiar, ethereal voice sent chills down his spine. Keaton’s face contorted into a near snarl before he managed to control himself.

“Stay the hell away from me.”

His minions had been in and out of the Crystal Chamber all day, but Keaton didn’t care if they heard him.

The daemon clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “So testy.”

“Forgive me if my temper is short when someone I care about is dying,” he grated out.

“I can help with that, you know.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the daemon’s golden figure. For once she didn’t seem interested in lewd displays. She was just hovering nearby. “She’ll need more than you can currently give her.”

“I don’t want your help,” Keaton said, lifting his gaze to the creature. “Your help is what got me into this mess in the first place.”

“Mm, no. I believe your inability to think with your brain instead of your cock is what got you into this mess.”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Keaton yelled, loud enough to shake the walls.

Somewhere in the distance, a drone squeaked and scampered away.

“If that is what you truly wish—”

“That’s what I wish. I’ll figure it out on my own, and if I can’t…”

Then Adriana would die. That was all there was to it. He would have failed her, but at least he wouldn’t further disrespect her by allowing a daemon to have something over her, too.

Gritting his teeth, Keaton squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, the daemon was gone, leaving him alone with a still-dying Adriana.

And leaving him no closer to a solution for how to save her.

26

Keaton had never been one to easily despair, but as the hours slipped by, he came closer and closer.

Everything he’d tried, he tried again, just to be sure. The only thing that seemed to have any effect now was making her touch the crystal, but that faded so quickly it might as well have done nothing. It did give him one last, desperate thought, though.

He’d asked her before if it would hurt her for him to draw energy from the crystal to increase his power. While she’d said it wasn’t a large draw on the resources she needed to survive, what if he could somehow reverse that process? What if he could give part of his own energy, his own life force? What if he could use the crystal to channel it into Adriana.

It was certainly worth a try.

Interfacing with the crystal, he ordered the drones to come help him. Two were positioned beneath her arms, one cradling her head while the leader awaited his signal to give them the go-ahead. They were supposed to lift both of Adriana’s hands to the crystal once Keaton started the process, and not remove her from it until… well, until it worked, ideally.

Or until Keaton passed out.

He was distantly aware of the fact that this could strip him of his new powers, but that didn’t matter. It would be more than a fair trade to get Adriana back. He’d only known her for a short while, yes, but he felt deeply responsible for her. He wanted her to be happy and healthy; he wanted to hear that sweet laugh of hers again.

And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting around and moping.

So he placed both hands to the crystal, ignoring the usual interface in favor of creating his own within his mind. He imagined an empty vessel; a decorative pot sitting at the center of a table. Then he imagined pushing energy out of his body as though he were pushing the tides away from himself.

He felt it flow outward, saw it manifest as a brilliant aura. Then he pushed it toward the vessel, manipulating it so it would fit inside. Only as he did so was Keaton able to understand that this was Anima, too. Every source of energy, every life force, it was all the same thing. His ability to control it now shouldn’t have surprised him, and yet it absolutely did.

It was a humbling experience, too. Shaping this energy in his hands, moving it from one place to another, Keaton could feel the sheer weight of what he was doing. He was rewriting fate, in a way, and that was never something he would forget.

The vessel glowed brightly, and in some distant space, Keaton gave the signal to his drones. Out of the corner of his consciousness he saw them lift Adriana’s hands to the crystal. As soon as her palms touched it, Keaton sent a surge of Anima toward the vessel; one last offering. He watched as the vessel exploded in a brilliant burst of light, the feeling of warmth expanding through his body and then suddenly being sucked away. He was left shivering, but Keaton held on, not breaking his concentration.

A gasp shattered the stillness, Keaton’s eyes flying open. He scrambled to see, pulling his attention toward Adriana, not prepared for the worst.

And he didn’t have to be.

She was sputtering, a small trickle of blood making its way from the corner of her lip before stopping. Her more human skin was a healthy pink, and her scales were radiant again, shimmering in their natural silver. When she opened her eyes, two golden orbs trying to process the space around her.

She saw the drones first and yelped, flinging the nearest off of her like she’d just noticed a spider on her hand.

“Wh-what are you—!”

She wasn’t given time to finish. Keaton was on his knees beside her, throwing his arms around her and hugging her tight.

“…Oh,” she said after a long silence.

He could feel the warmth in her body, the strength that was present again, and he’d never experienced such relief in all his life. But there was also something else. He had a better sense of her; could feel her surprise, then an emotional warmth to join the physical one as she wrapped her arms around him in return.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Keaton said, his voice muffled, his face practically buried against her neck.

He breathed in the scent of quicksilver, the earthy undertones a comfort to him now. Some distant part of his mind was kicking him for becoming so attached, so fast — he’d done that with Elena, after all — but this felt different. It felt natural, as if this was the way things were supposed to be.

Awareness prickled in the back of his consciousness, and for a moment he felt something similar to when he’d undergone the ritual with Cassia. Instead of an unquenchable lust, though, he felt the need to be as close to this woman as possible; to never let her go for fear of what might happen if he did.

“What happened?” she asked, her own voice muffled against his shoulder. “I am not complaining, but…”

He supposed he did need to explain. Reluctantly, Keaton drew back, though he didn’t let her go. His eyes met hers, searching for any sign that she knew what he was about to say. There was a spark of fear in those golden depths, but it was snuffed out by the same warmth he’d felt flowing between them.

“Do you remember The Slithering Crypt? Going back in and facing the dungeon lady?”

“I remember she had you under her spell…” Her brow furrowed, a flash of anger in her that Keaton felt as keenly as he might feel his own.

That’s so strange. Not unpleasant, but… strange.

“She hurt you. Badly. You were… dying,” he managed, “and we’ve been trying all day to bring you back.”

It was Adriana’s turn to search his eyes. Her hands came up to frame his face, her palms warm against his cheeks.

“What did you do, L— Keaton?”

“Nothing else was working, so I had the idea to channel my life force through the crystal.” He couldn’t tell if her sudden gasp was a good or bad thing. “I thought—”

Keaton wasn’t able to finish his babbling. Her lips were suddenly on his, warm and full and eager, expressing a depth of emotion he wasn’t sure he’d felt before. He responded immediately, his arms tightening around her once more, drawing her close.

The kiss was one of gratitude from both parties. Adriana thankful for what he’d done, apparently, and Keaton thankful she was alive. Alive and feeling courageous enough to initiate such affection, something he’d yearned for longer than he cared to admit. There was something sweet about it; almost innocent. The way her tongue swept questioningly over the seam of his mouth, the gasp of pleasure as he did the same to her, slipping his own tongue inside for a slow, gentle caress.

He could have lost himself in that kiss; let it linger on forever, with no care for anything else. It was probably a good thing, then, that Adriana was the one to have some sense and break it off.

Keaton searched her expression, looking for signs of regret, but found none. She was smiling, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. Her cheeks were rounded, eyes were gleaming, and a pretty blush colored her cheeks.

“That was very impulsive of me, I apologize, but I—”

“Don’t apologize,” Keaton said, resting his hand atop hers. “It was nice.”

It’d been many years since he’d had his first kiss, but he felt like that again now. Flustered and floaty, his own cheeks heating. He almost couldn’t look at her without breaking into a fit of ridiculous, boyish giggles.

“What you did, Keaton… I do not know that you truly understand the gravity of it.”

“I did what I had to do,” he said softly, his eyes never straying from hers.

The cynical part of his mind told him he was a fool, but Keaton ignored it.

“Do you… remember how I said there are other ways to complete the bonding ritual?”

He nodded absently, his mind busy figuring out just how he might be able to coax another kiss out of her. When he finally thought about what she’d said, though, his brows rose in surprise.

“You’re saying that’s what happened? I just bonded with you?”

Her blush grew even deeper, managing to spread into her long, elf-like ears.

“Then you’re my lieutenant now?”

“Only if you wish me to be,” Adriana said hurriedly. “I know you did not do this knowingly, and I will not be upset if—”

“Adriana.”

She stopped rambling, her eyes on his. Keaton smiled, a warmth blooming in his chest as she slowly returned it.

“I’ve always wanted you as a lieutenant, I just wanted to do it on your terms. If you’re okay with this, then so am I.”

“Of course I am okay with it!” she exclaimed, seeming utterly bewildered by the very suggestion. “You gave me a piece of your heart, your soul, your essence. We are as one now, and I—” She stopped herself, her gaze casting downward. “I am getting carried away.”

Keaton laughed softly, his smile seeming to be a permanent fixture. He was just… so relieved she was alive and well. He hadn’t even needed to resort to the daemon’s tricks. He’d been able to figure it out on his own, and so far there weren’t any negative consequences.

“We should go tell the others. You’ll need your rest,” Keaton said, reluctantly pulling back from her.

“Adriana.” Cassia’s voice carried from the entrance to the Crystal Chamber. Her relief was palpable, even before Keaton caught her expression. “I’m glad to see you back among the living.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, gaze retreating from the Emvola lieutenant’s before it returned. “I am sorry if I worried you.”

“All is well now,” the woman said with a small smile. “I saw the message that The Labyrinth had a new lieutenant and I was curious to see what happened.”

“Ah. Yeah, apparently the harebrained idea I—”

Keaton tried to stand, pushing himself up on shaky legs. He attributed that to the surge of adrenaline and flood of relief that followed, assuming he just needed a moment to get his bearings. But he swayed on the way up, the edges of his visions going blurry. His legs weren’t just shaky, it felt like they couldn’t support his weight. He found himself falling before he even realized what was happening.

“Lord Keaton!” Adriana said with a yelp, grabbing for him.

Cassia was there, too, one arm braced behind him. Keaton leaned his weight against her and put the other arm around Adriana’s offered shoulders as she stood without issue.

“He channeled his life force through the crystal,” Adriana explained. “It is greatly diminished now. He needs a way to get it back, and fast.”

“The quickest way I know is through reaffirming the bond you have with your lieutenants,” she said, the words spoken so casually that at first Keaton didn’t catch on.

“I don’t think I’m in any state for that,” he muttered, the blush returning to his cheeks.

“You’ll perk up once we begin. Come on. Let’s get you somewhere private.”

Keaton found himself being all but dragged through the Crystal Chamber. Not because he was digging his boots into the ground in protest, but because he just couldn’t seem to stand on his own. It was too much effort. Breathing was too much effort right now, and he had no idea how he was supposed to manage to fuck anyone.

Wait. I can’t do this.

“Cassia, hold on,” he said, his voice firm.

She stopped immediately, still supporting him, but not attempting to move him.

“You and I haven’t been on the best terms lately. I don’t want you to do this as… I don’t know, some kind of service to me,” he said, feeling a shudder run down his spine.

It was an awful way to think of sex, but he was sure many dungeon lords saw it as just that. Almost like asking their minions to patch up their wounds. Just another duty; a transaction to be carried out, where the dungeon lord expected it of his lieutenants just because of the pact they’d made. Keaton wanted no part of it.

But Cassia just let out a low chuckle, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “You and I have butted heads, yes, and I’m sure we will in the future. We are both stubborn and inclined to do what we feel is right. But I assure you, this isn’t a chore.” She gave him a slow once-over that sent flames licking up and down his body. “When we completed the ritual the first time, you told me you did not want me to be passive. I took that to mean you don’t want me to be docile and to bend to your every whim, in and out of the bedroom.”

Keaton nodded, that rush of heat traveling downward. He felt his cock throb painfully, his erection beginning to press against the seam of his pants.

“Then trust me, I won’t ever do this just because I feel it’s my duty.” Her green eyes darkened, her pupils blown. “In truth, I’ve wanted to suggest another round, but we’ve been otherwise occupied.”

“…Oh,” Keaton said, swallowing hard.

It would have been fine if Cassia was the only one. Parts of his body were certainly ready, and the mere prospect of sex did seem to perk him up, just like she’d promised. But…

“Adriana,” he said, looking to the dragonkin who supported his other side. “I know you’re not ready to be a part of this, but are you… okay with this?”

She hesitated for a long moment, looking away from him. That blush remained, growing stronger than before.

“Tell me. Please.”

“In some ways, yes. It is part of being a dungeon lord, and I… like the thought of someone pleasing you, even if that someone is not me,” she admitted, her voice so quiet Keaton barely heard her.

“But in other ways…?”

She lifted her eyes to him once more, an expression in them he couldn’t place. It wasn’t just desire, but it was something very, very close.

“In other ways I am envious. I wish I felt confident being a part of it, though I know I am not yet ready. However…” She looked from Keaton to Cassia, then back again. “I… I would like to watch, if that is all right with both of you.”

27

Keaton’s mouth went instantly dry, and any fear he’d had over getting a proper erection was completely gone. He was rock hard now, just the thought of that sending fire through his veins. His pulse roared in his ears, and for a while he just stared stupidly at Adriana.

Cassia was the first to break the silence with a raucous laugh. And a smack to Keaton’s back that nearly sent him sprawling. “Well, we’d better give her a show, hm? Probably not a marathon session like last time, but I think we can manage something worth watching.”

“I…”

“Only if you agree to it, my lord,” Adriana said, her jaw trembling as she looked up at him hopefully. “I… want very much to be a part of this, in whatever way I can, but I want you to enjoy my presence.”

“I will,” he blurted out. “I definitely will.”

She let out a breath, a relieved smile taking over her expression. “Then it is settled.”

“And no use standing around talking about it,” Cassia said, nudging him toward the hall.

Keaton walked as he was able, but mostly let himself be whisked along by two beautiful women. There was something so wildly unbelievable about it all, and he found himself in a bit of a daze. Cassia was wild and powerful; practically feral when they’d fucked before. She’d wanted as much as he could give and then some. Adriana was sweet and timid, but he saw something in her eyes that made him think this wasn’t the first time she’d considered asking this.

Had she fantasized about watching them before? Had she touched herself to thoughts of them fucking? Had she come with his name on her lips as Keaton cried out in bliss? It was an intoxicating thought, and he supposed he’d have an answer soon enough.

They led him to the private bedchamber the drones and goblins had built. Keaton found it unnecessary at first — there were more important things to build — but now he was grateful. He would have been even more grateful if there was some kind of soundproofing in the room, but he wasn’t going to split hairs at this point. A large, sturdy bed was all he needed. And maybe some other surfaces.

Adriana started to pull away from him, then hesitated for a brief moment before she pressed her lips to his. While the first kiss had been something sweet and nearly chaste, this one was full of barely restrained passion. Her mouth melded to his, her tongue seeking entrance and stroking his own. She moaned softly into his mouth as Keaton returned the action, desperate to touch her. He wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair, to pull her body flush against his. But there were boundaries here, and he respected them even as she pulled away. That didn’t stop the groan of protest that left him unbidden, nor did it help the throbbing ache in his cock.

Cassia let out another low chuckle at the display. “See? You’re already feeling better.”

Adriana smiled at him, leaving his side to fetch a chair that she pulled up beside the bed. Keaton had the chance to see her sit down and part her thighs before he was all but shoved down into the bed by Cassia.

“Let’s get the rest of your energy back so your new lieutenant has a good show,” she said, climbing over him. She lowered her face next to his and whispered in his ear, “and so you can fuck me the way I need.”

Cassia drew the lobe between her teeth and bit down, drawing a gasp from Keaton. Lust shot through his body, seeming to reach every part of him that had once been fatigued from the transfer of his essence. Another surge of energy followed in its wake as the Emvola pushed herself up and moved down the bed, tugging off his boots and trousers, exposing him to the air.

And to Adriana’s view.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking over to see her reaction. She was staring at his cock, her lips slightly parted before she licked them. Keaton shuddered, remembering the daemon’s trickery and how real it’d felt. It wasn’t a sensation he had to simply imagine for long, though, as he felt the broad sweep of Cassia’s tongue licking him from sack to head.

“Gods,” he breathed, gripping the sides of the bed reflexively as she moved to do it again.

He looked down at her, meeting her gaze and finding the same silent challenge she’d issued him before. Kneeling on the floor, she took his shaft in hand and pumped slowly, ducking her head to tease his balls with her tongue. She drew one into her mouth, sucking noisily before he released it and worked the other.

Keaton bucked off the bed, one of his hands shooting up to grip a horn. Cassia let out an encouraging hum, her eyes glinting as she shot him that same challenging look before dragging her tongue along the underside of his shaft again, teasing just beneath the head, then coming up to lave over the slit.

She pressed her lips together, cheeks hollowing just slightly as saliva bubbled between her lips, dripping tantalizingly downward to coat the head of his cock. It dripped over the side, tracing a lewd path all the way down, and Keaton shuddered, his balls suddenly tightening. Whether it was the effect of the bond he’d made with Adriana or just an eagerness to cum, he already felt himself in need of a distraction.

And what better distraction than to put himself to work?

Tugging on her horns, Keaton forced her to lift her head. Then he let go to beckon her to him, patting on either side of his shoulders. She flashed him a grin, understanding immediately. They’d done this before, during their first all night (and then some) session, and Keaton was eager to taste her again. He was practically salivating as she unlaced her leathers and pulled off her smallclothes, her hooves clicking on the ground as she did so.

She climbed over him, but instead of straddling his chest while facing him, she faced away, her back to him. Leaning forward on her knees, she presented her soaking wet pussy, her lips swollen and begging to be sucked. Keaton was all too happy to oblige, his palms on her thighs as he spread her open more.

Leaning up to meet her, he drew his tongue over her glistening folds, a soft moan vibrating within him as her taste hit his tongue. Like the sweetest aged honey with just a hint of spice; something he could have gladly lapped up for hours.

A whimper caught his attention, low and keening and definitely not from Cassia. She was currently gasping, grinding her sex against his face. Keaton gripped her thighs and looked for the source of the sound, finding Adriana’s eyes on him. Her teeth were piercing her lip hard enough to leave a mark, and her thighs were squeezed together so tightly that there was no doubt in his mind she was enjoying this.

Eyes locked on his newest lieutenant, he dragged his tongue slowly over Cassia’s slit, then drew one of her plump pussy lips into his mouth, sucking eagerly. Cassia moaned, reaching back to bury her fingers in his hair, gripping a hand of it roughly. He took that as encouragement to continue, pulling the opposite lip into his mouth, then circling her cunt with the tip of his tongue before pushing inside. Her pussy fluttered around him, trying to grip what wasn’t there, and Keaton’s cock ached to be inside her.

To be inside them both, honestly, because the way Adriana was watching him… he’d never experienced anything more erotic in his life. He could tell how heavily she was breathing, could see how dark her eyes were, like molten pools of gold. And most importantly, he saw her hand creeping closer and closer over her thigh, unable to resist.

That’s it. Take your pleasure and imagine I’m the one touching you.

He gladly would. If she stood now and offered herself to him, he would lift his hand and delve his fingers between her folds to seek out her clit. He’d rub just the way she liked while sucking Cassia’s and bring them both to climax in a symphony of moans and gasps.

Gods, he ached for that. One day it would happen. One day he would bury his tongue in Adriana’s pussy as Cassia rode him mercilessly. But until then, he was going to enjoy what he had.

He started to focus his attention, thrusting his tongue inside her a few more times, then moving upward toward the apex of her thighs. He’d nearly reached her clit when he felt her weight shift forward, her body lowering over his. For some reason, Keaton didn’t register what she was going to do until her hand was already wrapped around his cock.

When she took him into her mouth, swallowing him to the root in one slow, sinful surge, Keaton let out a shaky moan. It was hard to concentrate with her doing that, especially when she pulled back and began to suck him in earnest. He watched her, loving the sight of her swallowing his cock even from behind, her greedy mouth salivating around him, ribbons of her spit clinging to his cockhead as she withdrew only to take him in again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, breath gusting against her clit.

Her pussy contracted on reflex again, and Keaton finally obliged, sliding two fingers into her tight cunt as his mouth latched around her clit. He pumped and sucked, matching the rhythm she set as she devoured his cock, her lips sliding over the shaft again and again. Keaton could feel his balls growing tight and he idly wondered if he’d recover as quickly this time, should she make him come.

He’d been like a man possessed before, but maybe that was just because of the ritual. Either way, he redoubled his own efforts to break her, crooking his fingers just inside, the pads of them rubbing against her walls. That actually made her stop, her moan muffled around his cock. She pushed back against him, slamming down on his face and fingers, her thighs smacking against his skin, and Keaton sucked for all he was worth.

When she finally broke it was with a warrior’s shout, her clear voice rattling the walls. Keaton’s fingers were buried inside her, her cunt squeezing around them. He drew away from her clit and lapped up the juices that dribbled around the digits, a fresh burst of honey and spice on his tongue.

The sound of a rough, shuddered breath drew his attention. He looked to see Adriana with her knees parted, hand ever closer to her pussy but not touching herself; not even through the clothing.

His attention was pulled back to Cassia rather violently as she hummed around his cock, the vibration sending him faster toward that edge. He panted against her, watching her as she drew back slowly and sucked only on the head. It was too much. He was going to come any second.

Unless she squeezed her hand around the base of his cock, that was. Hard.

A sudden shock of pain stole the breath from his lungs. It was a sensation akin to getting kicked in the chest by a mule, and Keaton hissed in a harsh breath. The Emvola rose from him, her thighs flexing as she threw one leg over his torso and used it to leverage her position, flipping around. Eventually she straddled his hips, her pussy so painfully close to his cock that Keaton bit back a groan.

Palms rested on either side of his shoulders and she leaned down, her full breasts straining against her armor. He ached to get it off, to draw one of her nipples into his mouth, but right now he was more concerned with the way her lips tipped upward in a smirk.

“She’s waiting for you,” Cassia whispered.

“What?”

Her lips skimmed his jaw, blunted teeth raking along the edge. “She wants her dungeon lord to give her permission. To tell her to touch herself.”

Keaton’s breath faltered. He swallowed hard, throat working as his eyes met Adriana’s again. A pretty blush stole across her features, and he knew she must have heard. Especially since her eyes were imploring, her long lashes sweeping downward in a slow blink.

“You can touch yourself,” he somehow managed, his mouth intensely dry. “I want you to.”

Desire sparked in her eyes at that, and she moved her hand the last couple inches. Reclining back in the chair a little, she held his gaze before resting one of her feet on the edge of the bed, her claws digging into the mattress. Keaton’s gaze moved from her eyes downward, glued to where her fingers were now stroking over fabric in such a dainty, restrained way.

Even through the clothing — maybe even because of the clothing — she was incredibly sexy. Especially since he could see exactly how wet she was, the dampness staining the crotch of her pants.

“Tell her what you want,” Cassia said, her voice husky in his ear, teeth scraping the lobe. “Tell her what you want to do to her while you fuck me.”

She punctuated that demand by gripping the base of his cock, then impaling herself on it in one smooth motion. Keaton saw starbursts behind his eyelids, his head falling back, a moan tearing from his throat.

It took him a moment to recover, during which Cassia was grinding against him, her pelvis flush with his. Her hands were on his chest, her back arching in the most tantalizing way. One of his hands moved up her bare stomach, going further to cup a breast, his fingers moving the leather strap to the side so it was bared to him. He squeezed hard, drawing a moan from her that served to center him.

As she rode him, Keaton’s gaze fixed on Adriana. He could tell her breathing was shallow from the way her chest was moving, her full breasts — covered though they were — rising and falling rapidly. He watched her fingers, watched her angle them so the long nails wouldn’t be a problem as she stroked herself through the fabric, more urgency in her actions now.

“I wish it was my fingers,” he said, his gaze intent on her. “I wish I could be the one to touch you like that. To rub your clit and slide my fingers into you. I’d do anything to make you feel good.”

She let out a shuddered breath, her slitted pupils expanding, darkness filling her golden eyes.

“Would you like that?” he asked, having to bite down on a moan as Cassia ground against him in just the right way, his cock hitting deep within her.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling with obvious desire.

Her fingers sped, rubbing furiously through the soaked fabric. So hard that it slid out of place, granting him a view of her bare pussy. When Adriana realized, she didn’t blush and block him from looking. Instead she slid her fingers under the fabric, lifting it out of the way, pushing it to the side.

She was beautiful, rosy pink lips swollen with need, clit peeking out almost shyly from the apex of her thighs. Her pussy glistened and he ached to taste her, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I want to taste you so badly,” he said. “I know you’re not ready for that, but gods, I can’t wait to make you come with my tongue.”

“He does have a very talented tongue,” Cassia said with a breathless laugh, her thighs slamming against his.

Keaton gave her breast one last squeeze, then moved both hands to her thighs, grasping them tight enough to leave marks. He held her, managed to contain her strength enough to thrust upward off the bed, meeting her as she slammed back down. Cassia moaned loudly, throwing her head back, and Keaton admired the raw power of her form before his gaze traveled back to Adriana.

Two fingers were buried in her pussy, all the way to the second knuckle. She was in the process of adding a third and Keaton was sure he stopped breathing for a moment. He watched her, mesmerized, timing his thrusts to her own. As she fucked herself, three fingers spreading her wide, he pounded into Cassia.

His thighs burned, his balls ached, but he held out. His gaze was locked on Adriana as she pumped into her cunt mercilessly, her body suddenly tensing as her expression went slack. Then she let out a moan that was undercut by a growl, the sound of it vibrating to the base of his cock despite the fact that he wasn’t even touching her.

It must have affected Cassia, too. She took him as deep as she could, grinding against him with a fury that had the bed shaking like crazy. He felt her climax break before she ever made a sound, her pussy squeezing tight around him. The Emvola’s moans joined Adriana’s in a chorus, the combination too much for Keaton to handle.

His hips jerked off the bed, one last thrust before he unloaded into her, hot cum painting her cunt in jet after jet, running back down over his shaft and seeping out as her pussy continued to spasm around him.

Keaton should have felt exhausted. Euphoric, yes, but exhausted considering the state he’d been in before they started. Instead, as he looked from Adriana to Cassia, he felt a surge of power tingle through his body, reaching every limb.

Something had happened — he could practically taste the presence of Anima on the back of his tongue. As he struggled to catch his breath, Keaton finally understood.

A bond has been deepened.

Cassia is now eligible for advancement.

Adriana is now eligible for the rank of lieutenant.

New advancements are available.

28

Keaton still felt the high of that power surge as the three of them headed to the Crystal Chamber. He should have been exhausted after everything, but he’d never been more ready to work and plan and do everything in his power to take down the bitch who’d almost cost him everything. It was like the most potent ale he’d ever had, chased with some of the leaf he’d chewed once just to see what it felt like. That had been great — amazing, even. So much so he’d stayed away from it for the sake of not ending up near comatose under a bridge like the others.

But this was a feeling he could live with, produced by something he would absolutely do again. Cassia and Adriana both felt it, if their presence beside him was anything to go off of. Adriana even seemed more confident than usual, though that could have been a pleasant side effect from the fact that she’d unabashedly bared herself to him and had let him watch while she plunged three fingers into her pussy over and over.

Maybe the surge of power was fortunate for another reason. Without it, Keaton would have been tempted to just stay in bed. He might have made Adriana an offer she wouldn’t have had the presence of mind to turn down, and he didn’t want things to unfold that way. He had no doubt she’d end up in his bed eventually. She wanted to be there; he’d seen that with his own two eyes, had heard it with every whimper of his name. But it would be on her time. And after they’d dealt with the dungeon lady of The Slithering Crypt.

Walking up the small set of stairs his drones had built to better access the crystal, Keaton looked to his left and then his right, finding Cassia and Adriana respectively.

“Do we want anyone else here for this?”

“I do not believe they are needed for this part,” Adriana said. “We will each interface with the crystal and expend our affinity with Anima to better ourselves. Then we can bring the others in to discuss what is to be done about The Slithering Crypt.”

He looked to Cassia, who nodded.

“Agreed.”

“Alright. On three, then?” he asked, lifting his hands to the crystal.

Adriana and Cassia joined him, and Keaton counted down. Once he reached “one,” he focused on the crystal, channeling his own Anima into it so that he could interface.

Several sentences were scrawled across his consciousness, one right after the other.

Adriana is now a lieutenant of The Labyrinth.

Adriana has gained a rank due to continued service to The Labyrinth.

Cassia has gained a rank due to continued service to The Labyrinth.

There are new advancement opportunities available.

His two lieutenants were addressing their own ranks and the bonuses those conferred. Keaton had no idea what they were, but he could ask after. For now, there was something he needed to take care of.

Silently he nudged the crystal into displaying his skill and power options. The newest ones were highlighted, and he took a look at those first: Minotaur Bash, Viper Strike, Envenom Blade, Poison Cloud, Disease Cloud, Last Chance, Beacon, Rally.

Interesting choices, and some of them seemed very powerful. He needed to compare them against the old options, and so Keaton did a quick pass to see what all he still had available. There were plenty of talents to improve his survivability, a few martial skills, some spells, and a variety of leadership abilities that were far more enticing now.

Before that trip to The Slithering Crypt, he would have been inclined to take something that would increase his damage or make sure he stayed alive no matter what.

But Keaton was beginning to realize that wasn’t his role here. He’d much rather help his lieutenants and minions and keep them safe. The moment they interfaced with the crystal, they became his responsibility. Keaton had given them all a choice, and he owed it to them to act in their best interests.

Besides, he wasn’t ever going to be some all-powerful battle mage. It might be nice, and sure he’d maybe dreamed about it when he was younger, but it wasn’t his style. He worked best from the shadows, relying on other people to act so he could take advantage.

Once upon a time, he’d done it to rip people off. For a brief stint, it’d been to kill people, using their own actions against them. Learning the patterns of their lives and exploiting them to help facilitate their deaths.

Now he’d have to put his trust in his allies; use their abilities as a means to catch a shared enemy unawares. That was his place here, and the skills he took needed to reflect it.

As such, Rally, Lord’s Sight, and Command were of the most interest. He was only going to be able to afford two right now, as this just seemed to be a bonus from the “bonding” session he’d just engaged in with his lieutenants.

In the end, Keaton decided to go with Rally and Lord’s Sight.

Rally – The dungeon lord uses Anima to create a magical rally point. Nearby allies will feel their spirits bolstered and will gain a temporary bonus to their strength, speed, and fortitude.

Lord’s Sight – Allows the dungeon lord to see the status of minions in his dungeon and the dungeon of other lords. Can be counteracted by more powerful dungeon lords.

Concentrating on the crystal, he invested his Anima into the skill and felt power surge outward from the vessel. It filled him with a warmth that was almost uncomfortable before the unseen flames receded, returning to the crystal and adding back to its glow. He’d taken what he needed and no more.

Shortly after he made his decision, the crystal alerted him of his lieutenants’ choices, too.

Lieutenant Cassia has gained an ability: War Leader. This ability allows her to shout different commands to boost morale and decrease fear within her ranks.

Lieutenant Adriana has gained an ability: Empath. This ability allows her to better understand the emotional state of allies and affect the emotional state of minions serving under her.

Good choices, honestly. Cassia’s was a perfect fit for her style of leadership, and Adriana’s seemed incredibly useful. It also seemed like the type of thing that would grow in power as more time and care was invested, and he looked forward to helping her nurture that.

Especially if it meant more nights like tonight.

“You both happy with your selections?” he asked after they’d stepped away from the crystal.

“I admit it is strange being able to see what the crystal has to offer. I was not expecting such a wealth of choice,” Adriana mused. “But yes, I am very happy with my selection. I believe it will be of great help

“It’ll serve my warriors well,” Cassia said. “I only wish I could’ve had access to it when they were all still alive.”

Guilt stabbed at Keaton, but Cassia didn’t let him feel it for long.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I told you, they had deaths fit for our kind. I’m proud of them, even if I will miss them in my ranks.”

“It’s hard not to feel responsible,” he admitted.

Keaton expected to be reprimanded by Cassia again, but it was Adriana who spoke up.

“This is the natural life cycle for a minion. They serve their lord as well as they can, until the day they die. Anyone who makes an agreement with a dungeon lord — especially a willing agreement — understands this.”

“People have that understanding when they march under a general’s orders, too. It doesn’t make that general any less responsible when he sends them to their deaths.”

Adriana gave him a soft smile. “No, I suppose it does not. It is a good attitude to have, to see the lives of your minions as something other than expendable.”

“You won’t feel that way when there are hundreds of them. They’ll just be another face in a crowd,” Cassia pointed out. “It’s naive to think otherwise.”

“Maybe it is. But I don’t ever want to get to the point where I’m taking the lives of the people who serve me for granted.”

She looked like she wanted to argue with him further, but after a moment, Cassia just nodded.

“I hope you never reach that point, then.” Her voice was soft, her words spoken with a depth of sentimentality he hadn’t even realized she possessed.

Of course, he didn’t really know her, did he? He knew every inch of her body, but he had no idea what her hopes and dreams were, what scared her, what made her cry. He’d never been averse to casual relationships, but the bond he now shared with Cassia and Adriana seemed to demand more.

Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe this was just another thing he didn’t understand as a new dungeon lord. Either way, he was determined to take none of it for granted.

They called in all of The Labyrinth’s minions a few minutes later, and within the hour everyone was crowded in the Crystal Chamber that had acted as a war room before this salvage mission.

I’ll need to build something bigger to accommodate everyone. That’s a project for another day, though.

First they needed to make it through this mission. As much as Keaton preferred to stick to the shadows, if he hid himself and his minions away, they were going to be targets. He’d taken something from that snakekin, and while he certainly hadn’t gotten out of it without suffering losses, he had a feeling that wouldn’t be enough to feed her sense of “justice.”

It wasn’t enough to feed Keaton’s, either. He wanted that dungeon lady to get a taste of her own medicine. Or, barring that, he wanted to make an example of her so everyone would know not to fuck with him or anyone who worked with him.

“The two biggest obstacles facing us right now are the dungeon lady’s powers and the fact that she seems to command an endless supply of snakekin,” Cassia said, standing at one end of the war table. “My warriors can stem the tide long enough to buy us a little time, though I don’t know how much.”

One of the Emvola stepped forward. “The snakekin are quick, and their ability to fight with two blades is especially dangerous, but we will do everything in our power to hold them at bay.”

“One of the new powers I picked up should help with that,” Keaton said. “Rally.”

Cassia’s brows rose, a small smile curving her lips. “I didn’t expect a dungeon lord to take powers that would be of direct benefit to his minions rather than himself.”

“As I have said, Lord Keaton is different,” Adriana said, looking at him in a way that made warmth spread outward from his heart.

Even if that warmth was unearned in this case.

“I wasn’t, though. The first powers I took were for my benefit. But I don’t want what happened last time to happen again. Now or in the future,” he said, looking around at the others.

“If hissers problem, can throw stink at them,” one of the goblins said, seemingly out of the blue.

Keaton turned to face him, finding the scout he’d “recruited” first. It was a wonder the little goblin hadn’t followed him around like a puppy once they got back, but he’d mostly kept himself busy.

“Goblin make a dung ball, bind it with twigs and leaves,” Orbon said. “Good for clearing out rooms. Also good for giving to people you no like.”

The goblins snickered, elbowing one another, their long maws stretched wide with rows of sharp teeth. Keaton saw Cassia roll her eyes, but he was honestly a little fascinated.

“The Thieves’ Guild in Valfast had something like that. A little more sophisticated, but a stink bomb is a stink bomb.” He looked to the hobgoblin. “How quickly can you get those made?”

“How quickly goblins take a shit?” He paused a beat, then grinned. “Trick question. Goblins always taking shit.”

Cassia groaned and Keaton bit back his urge to laugh. He still had the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old, apparently, but those bombs really would come in handy.

“I can processss them into something a bit more potent, if you wish. It should not take long,” Vrishta said.

“That would be appreciated, though only if it doesn’t take up too much time. I need you to make us some healing potions.”

“Of courssse, massster. Ssso long as I have the ingredientsss, I will be happy to make whatever you wish.”

“Get me a list after this is over. I’ll have the drones work on fetching it. If they can’t, I’ll just go gather them myself.”

She dipped her head in understanding, and Keaton turned his attention to the other snakekin. “I imagine you two already know what I’m going to ask.”

“We do, my lord,” Yurgetse said, the first to make the adjustment to calling him “lord” instead of master. “I assume you wish to do thisss quickly, though. If that isss the case, I would advisssse only scale shirtsss for you and your lieutenantsss.”

“It’ll have to do,” he said, looking at Adriana and Cassia. “Will there be enough time to make some weapons, too? As many as you can.”

Ankhaga nodded. “I will work on weaponssss while my father craftssss the armor. They will not be my bessst, but they will get the job done.”

“That’s all we need right now. I’m not expecting miracles, especially since I don’t want us to take too long on this.”

“I agree,” Cassia said. “The longer we allow that viper to sit in her den, the more likely she is to catch us off guard.”

Viper was an apt descriptor, even discounting her appearance. Keaton shuddered as he remembered the hold she’d had on him; how she’d latched into his mind, exploiting his deepest insecurities to get him to do what she wanted. He would have given up his allies with ease had she kept her fangs pierced so deeply in his throat. That was something Keaton didn’t want to admit even to himself, but if he was going to face her again, he needed to deal with it.

“What about the dungeon lady specifically? Even if I don’t go down there — which I’m not agreeing to — she could use it on someone else. She could make you all turn against each other, right?”

“Her power isss one of manipulation,” Yurgetse said, looking down. “She tapsss into what you want and findsss the most destructive way for you to get it.”

“Perhaps someone pure of heart can withstand it,” Adriana said hopefully.

Cassia scoffed. Softer than last time, and there was affection in her eyes, but still. “No one is pure enough to be free of wants. Even you have them.”

She jerked her head pointedly toward Keaton and Adriana flushed.

He cleared his throat. “We need some kind of barrier against that magic, or some other way to block her from using it.”

“And none of your powers allow for that?” Cassia asked. “Maybe if we get you some more experience over the next few days—”

Keaton shook his head. “No, there’s nothing that would do it. Unless it’s buried somewhere and I have to advance through a bunch of other powers to reach it, but we don’t have that kind of time.”

“No, I suppose we don’t. There has to be something.”

“I could… make a poisssson,” Vrishta offered. “Technically ssspeaking, it isss just an elixir, but it poisonsss the mind. Cloudsss it so everything movesss much ssslower. It may not be perfect, but it will buy ussss sssome time.”

“Is that something you can make with ingredients around here?” he asked, giving her a hopeful glance.

“Swampsss are teeming with fogcapsss. It isss jussst that they must be carefully processed. It will take ssseveral daysss for me to do that, and I will need to tessst the effects before I will feel confident giving it to you.”

“It just clouds the mind? It won’t hurt whoever you give it to?”

“Sssso long as I do it right,” Vrishta said, her rattle shaking nervously.

Keaton looked to his lieutenants, his brows lifting in silent question.

“It may be the only recourse we have,” Adriana admitted.

Cassia just shrugged. “I’m fine with an elixir, but how are we going to get it to her?”

A slow smile curved Keaton’s lips, excitement flickering to life in his eyes. “Leave that to me.”

29

They traveled back to The Slithering Crypt with a small caravan. Keaton and his two lieutenants led the way, followed by Cassia’s warriors and a couple of goblins.

It’d been nearly five days since their first skirmish, and Keaton felt much better prepared this time around. His scale armor clung to his body, he had a new dagger sheathed at his belt and a scimitar on his hip, and settled carefully in a pouch on his opposite hip was a small vial of mind fog elixir, the liquid a cloudy blue-purple with flecks of pink suspended within it.

Vrishta had been developing it for the past three days, grinding up fogcaps from all around the swamp. She’d tested it on goblins first, but they weren’t smart enough to be able to tell the difference. So she’d given the next few draughts to Cassia’s warriors, with their permission.

It’d taken some evening out. The first batch was too potent, completely erasing the Emvolas’ short term memory. They recovered, but not without some distress. The next batch swung too far in the other direction, barely doing a thing. But this last batch was where Vrishta wanted it to be, and Keaton was hopeful about its prospects.

He had to be, because their entire plan hinged on it working.

“You think they’ll be ready for us this time?” he asked Cassia as the crypt’s sunken entrance came into view.

“I would bet everything I have that she’s had spies watching our every move outside of The Labyrinth.”

“Then she’s seen our goblins and drones gather fogcaps,” he said with a frown.

“She might not know what they’re for. Drones feast on all kinds of mushrooms, and they likely ate a few while they were transporting them.”

The optimism wasn’t like her, and Keaton arched a brow at the Emvola commander. She smirked in return.

“I’m personally preparing for the reality where she knows all of our plans ahead of time and has an answer to each, but it’s a nice thought to have.”

Keaton could only laugh, shaking his head. She had a point: It was a nice thought to have, and there wasn’t much they could do if it wasn’t an accurate thought.

“If she finds some way to thwart the elixir, or if it does not work as intended… Lord Keaton, you should truly consider falling back,” Adriana implored.

He could tell by her tone she already knew his response.

“I’m not sending all of you in there alone. I don’t feel comfortable asking you to do things I’m not willing to do myself. If it doesn’t work, we’ll improvise.”

She frowned at him but nodded. Keaton tried to give a reassuring smile, only managing a show of teeth that made him fit in better with his monstrous companions.

Cassia was right. There was every chance the dungeon lady not only knew they were coming, but had everything she needed to counter them. They wouldn’t know until they got there, and Keaton would just have to hope the preparations they’d made were enough.

If not, this was probably going to be the shortest time anyone had ever been a dungeon lord.

Aside from Lord Havron, anyway.

The entrance of the crypts was quiet. Even the traps Keaton expected to be re-armed weren’t functioning. But he wasn’t going to let himself believe they were in the clear. He’d always been able to feel when he was in the midst of a dangerous situation. It was a prickle at the back of his neck, something that brushed his skin with icy fingers. There was gooseflesh there now, his hair standing on end, and Keaton knew.

Something was going to happen. This plan wasn’t going to be executed flawlessly. That was naive to hope for even under the best circumstances, and these definitely weren’t.

“Keep your eyes open, everyone,” he warned in a whisper.

The corridor was tight, only allowing room for Keaton and Cassia in the front. Adriana was close behind, with all the Emvola warriors packed in after her. The goblins had been tasked with scouting the other tunnel to see if something was going to surprise them from behind. Right now, the plan was for Keaton to pull back and follow them so long as that tunnel was clear. With the bulk of his forces going one way, he’d ideally be able to slip into the Crystal Chamber and somehow get the dungeon lady to take the elixir.

So far there’d been no word, and the deeper they descended, the more wary Keaton became. His fingers gripped so tightly around the hilt of his blade that his knuckles turned white. The air was thick with the possibility of danger, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt it. Cassia was tense beside him, both her hands gripping her halberd.

A distant sound caught his attention and Keaton held up a hand to halt everyone. It could have been the skitter of spiders or some other creature, but to Keaton’s ears, it sounded like scales dragging across stone.

“Get ready, everyone,” he whispered.

Steel rang behind him as all of Cassia’s warriors drew their polearms. There was barely room for the Emvolas themselves, let alone their oversized weapons. They were stuffed in two-by-two, their broad shoulders nearly touching the walls. There was such a sense of claustrophobia in these tunnels that Keaton just hadn’t felt before. Then again, it’d only been seven of them then, as opposed to the twenty-two they had today.

Keaton crept toward the opening that was just up ahead, grateful for the widening of the tunnel’s mouth. That sixth sense of his grew more insistent, to the point where he was certain they wouldn’t be alone in that room. And sure enough, he heard the scraping toward the back of the room. One look at Cassia confirmed she’d heard it too, and Keaton pressed himself against the wall, sinking into the shadows.

“On my signal,” she said levelly, looking to her warriors. Her ear flicked, anticipation and excitement warring for control over her expression. “Ready your weapons… find peace in your hearts… and give the enemy no quarter.”

That last, harshly whispered line was apparently the signal. The warriors surged forward, spilling out into the chamber like a rushing river breaking a dam. Their shouts bounced off the walls of the cavernous expanse, creating a terrifying echo that struck fear in Keaton’s heart — even though they were on the same side. It was a bleating bellow, high pitched and full of intent. Not the sound he would have wanted to hear before he died, but it was about to be that way for several snakekin.

There were four of them in total. Large, sturdy warriors with fleshy hoods that extended from their human heads. It was an unnerving sight, even when Keaton realized that was just armor, woven very recently from the looks of it. The same armor that covered their broad chests and powerful arms. Armor that deflected the first strikes from spears and javelins that were thrown with deadly accuracy.

One strike. The warriors were meant as a distraction.

Keaton made use of the chaos, sneaking around the outside of the chamber until he was positioned behind one of the snakekin. He hunkered down, watching the way the creature moved. They all had a pattern of attacking, lunging with their upper bodies alone much like an actual snake would. Their rattles shook right before — just the tiniest vibration to give them away. And, most advantageous for Keaton, their armor pulled up enough to expose their lower back. If he could wrench his dagger in, he could sever the spinal cord and ideally strike a vital organ.

Ideally.

It was all he had to go on right now, and with Cassia and Adriana moving into position — the former armed with her halberd and the latter wielding a scimitar and dagger like Keaton — he had to act now.

Keaton waited to feel the vibration beneath his feet as the snakekin’s tail rattled. Then he lunged forward just as his opponent did and drove the dagger into his lower back. The creature let out a shrieking hiss, but Keaton pushed for all he was worth. He used both hands to wrench the dagger upward, feeling the moment the newly forged metal sliced through the spinal cord, the column of nerves separating from bone. The snakekin went limp and Keaton wrenched toward what he assumed would be a kidney, slicing into as much internal tissue as he could before drawing the dagger back out.

The snakekin jerked, seizing for several moments before his upper body collapsed, falling at an awkward angle atop his coiled tail. As the enemy’s scimitars clattered to the ground, Keaton looked to see Cassia and Adriana similarly dispatching their targets, with Cassia taking out two in a brutal swing of her halberd.

Adrenaline pumped through Keaton’s veins, making him feel invincible. A dangerous feeling, and maybe that was why he didn’t notice the danger all around them.

The walls began to shift, dirt and stone crumbling down, all sides of the tunnel pushing out forms as if birthing them. Coiled, writhing masses of flesh plopped onto the ground, rising to their full height as snakekin warriors. Dozens. Hundreds. Surrounding them from all angles, pooling in from the corridor.

She had known they were coming, and she’d sacrificed the four warriors they’d killed just for the sake of an ambush. Keaton would have given her credit for her keen mind if he wasn’t desperately trying to think of what to do.

There was no way they could fight all these snakekin. If nothing else, they were in danger of being crowded into the corners, pinned against the walls, and either suffocated or easily killed by accomplices. Even as Cassia surged forward with a shout, driving her halberd into the nearest one, he knew something else had to be done.

What’s the best way to kill a snake? You cut off the head.

As the thought occurred to him, he caught Adriana’s gaze. Her eyes were imploring, the dragonkin giving him a resolute nod.

The best thing he could do for them was to advance the plan. Trust them to handle the warriors, even if they had to handle them all at once. Nothing had changed so far, Keaton just needed to do his part.

Pushing his way through the crowd, jostled by the bodies of snakekin and Emvola warriors, Keaton stood at the center and called upon Anima. He drew the room’s energy into himself, feeding off the adrenaline, the rage, the lust for battle. Then he imagined himself compressing it into a tight ball before thrusting it back into the space, directing its energy toward his own minions.

He felt the moment they were bolstered. It washed over the crowd like a wave, lifting spirits and surging strength. Cassia let out a fierce shout and bisected a snakekin with her halberd. Adriana thrust her dagger through one’s eye socket, all the way to the hilt. And the assembled warriors each cut down their own fair share of enemies, giving Keaton space to slip away unnoticed.

He hated leaving them, but his place wasn’t in the front lines. He’d always been best sneaking around back; seizing the element of surprise. He would do the same now and hope to all the gods that he could find some way to get this elixir into the dungeon lady.

Keaton doubled back until he found the goblins, the three who’d accompanied them on all fours, their nostrils flaring as they sniffed comically.

“Is the way clear?” he asked, only able to assume that was what they were looking for.

It’s either that or a meal…

“Way clear,” one of them said in a scratchy voice, pushing up to his feet.

“Head hisser with crystal,” another confirmed.

Just as he’d thought. It was the safest place for her to be, all things considered. Otherwise he could have just snuck in and destroyed the crystal, then all of this would be over fast. Instead, he’d have to deal with a worthy adversary who’d very nearly brought him to his knees without much effort. She likely expected to do it again this time and Keaton didn’t blame her. He’d been an easy mark.

But he had no intention of being one today.

Touching two fingers to the pouch that contained the mind fog elixir, he made his way through the corridor. Keaton walked silently, watching his step to ensure not even a single pebble was dislodged. As he reached the stairs leading down to the Crystal Chamber, he stopped and listened. The sound of scales shifting over stone was obvious, as was unconcerned humming. He didn’t recognize the tune, but it sounded like something one might hum to a lover at night while softly stroking their hair; some kind of lullaby to get them to set aside their worries and sleep.

Shit. Does she already know I’m here?

The humming didn’t seem to affect him, though. Beyond being pleasant to listen to. So Keaton crept closer, until he reached the final landing. He crouched low, pressing himself against the wall, making use of the shadows cast by flickering torchlight.

Finally he could see her, slithering about in all her glory. She was beautiful. Her jet-black scales almost shimmered with iridescence, the patterning of red and yellow a fine warning to any who dared intrude on her space. Smooth, dark skin was flawless, her body something to behold. But there was an ugliness in her violet eyes that overshadowed everything else. An ugliness matched by the slight tilt to her lips as she gazed into a looking glass, its surface displaying images of the battle that raged on the other side of the dungeon.

Keaton strained to see, even though he knew he shouldn’t let it detract from his mission. If his people were being pushed back, if they were on the losing side, all he could do was act faster. So far, though, it seemed like they were holding their own. At least one Emvola warrior was on the ground, unmoving, but many more snakekin bodies littered the space.

The viper moved away from the looking glass to a corner of the room he hadn’t been able to see before. There was a raised dais tucked into an alcove, a nest set upon it with a full clutch of large eggs inside.

“It lookssss assss if you may need to hatch sssoooner than planned, my lovelies,” the dungeon lady cooed.

They’d need to smash those, otherwise the cycle was just going to continue. But first thing was first: He needed to find some way to get her this elixir.

Looking around, Keaton spotted a small table upon which was set a tray of food — whole, cooked rodents, it looked like — and a goblet of what he hoped was wine, or something strong enough to mask the taste of the poison he was about to slip into it.

Keaton waited, holding his breath as he watched the woman. She was still doting over the eggs, so he seized the opportunity and scurried silently across the room. Uncorking the vial, he let the contents slide into the goblet.

Then he booked it back to the stairs and sent out a prayer to any god who would listen.

Minutes passed like hours as he waited, hunched against the wall, his eyes straining as he stared at the goblet as if willing her to drink from it. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the viper made her way back over to the table. She plucked the goblet by the stem, lifted it to her lips, and drank.

30

He waited, holding his breath as the viper’s throat worked. She drank deeply, greedily, and Keaton decided that if this actually worked, he might start believing in one god or another.

Giddiness surged through his veins when she set down the goblet, the pewter making a hollower sound than it had before. This was it. The elixir was going to work. Her powers would be hampered, and they’d be able to fight her on even terms. He just had to go back and help the others finish up.

“Hmmm…”

He’d turned to leave but was stopped in his tracks by that contemplative sound.

“I ssssmell the excited ssstench of a human,” she purred. “Could it be that my honored guesssst hasss visited me without hisss entourage?”

Shit. He was caught. If he ran now, she’d probably summon more warriors to cut him off. Or she’d send more into that main atrium where his allies currently fought for their lives.

The best thing he could do for all involved was to stall and hope it would buy them all enough time.

So Keaton did just that, stepping out from the shadows and making his way into the chamber. He stood tall, with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. A forced confidence that made him stupid, apparently, because his gaze strayed to the goblet to see how much she’d drank.

Only for a second, but long enough.

“Ah, I sssee. You’ve already been in here.” There was no panic in her eyes. If anything, her smile only grew. “Let usss have a look at what you’ve done, hm?”

She picked up the goblet once more and sniffed, closing her eyes.

“Nearly undetectable. Whoever made thisss for you is quite gifted at their craft. But alssso quite ssstupid.” Her violet gaze found him, trapping Keaton in place as if he was one of those roasted rats. He may very well be one soon. “Did you really think poisssson would work on me, boy? It flowssss through my veinsss, makess up my very essence.”

Keaton’s heart sank. It hadn’t worked. Their best plan, and it was already torn apart. There would be no chance of retreat now. She’d ensnare him, his warriors would be killed, and The Labyrinth would fall into the hands of some other idiot.

Only… Wait. She thought it was poison in the traditional sense. She thought he’d intended to slip her something to take her out.

“Can you blame me for wanting to even the odds a little?” Keaton asked, beginning to back toward the stairs.

He had no intention of leaving, but if he wanted to sell this bit, he needed to look more scared than he was.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Her movements were lightning fast, her tail curling around him, drawing him to her. His face was practically sandwiched by her tits, her taut body pressed against him.

“I should ssssqueeze you until your bonesss grind into dussst,” she hissed, demonstrating her power as her tail constricted around him. Keaton felt something pop, his body crushing under the pressure. “But if thesssse hatchlingsss must reach maturity quickly becaussse of you, it isss only right you help me replenish them.”

She gripped his chin hard, forcing him to look at her. Violet eyes seemed to shift in color., the pupils elongating even further. He felt a tug on his consciousness, and a sharp hit of fear permeated his mind.

It hadn’t worked. She knew what he’d put in her wine and it hadn’t affected her in the slightest. She was going to control him easily, then that was that.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To cum in my tight cunt and know the eggssss I produce are yoursss.”

Where even was her cunt? Was it part of the scaled bits? It had to be; she was only “human” from the waist up. And while the idea of fathering a clutch of eggs might have appealed to her warriors, it just made Keaton shudder with disgust. …An emotion he definitely wouldn’t feel if he was under her spell.

Her eyes swirled different shades of purple as she continued to speak, obviously convinced she was affecting him just as she had before. And Keaton fully intended on taking advantage.

“I will be better to you than you dessserve. You will want for nothing.” Her long, forked tongue flicked against his face. “Do you know what thisss tongue can do, dungeon lord? Do you know what it feelssss like to have it wrap around your cock? I bet you’d like to know…”

“Yes,” he said, feigning weakness, his voice shaking in a way even he would have found convincing.

“Good boy,” she said, her tone patronizing. “Once thessse pesssts are dealt with, I will sssuck that lovely cock of yoursss, then you will finish in my cunt. You will fill me up with your ssseed until it runsss down my scalesss.”

While he’d always found Adriana attractive, and even thought this viper was beautiful in her own way, the idea of seeing his cum running down her shiny scales made him want to gag. But Keaton played along, his mind returning to the night he’d spent with Cassia and Adriana. His cock started to harden just as he wanted, and the viper let out a trill of delight.

“Sssso eager. Patience, dear lord. You will have me sssoon…”

Keaton tried not to tense as he felt her tail relax around him. He tried not to give himself away, his hand held loosely at his side. But the instant she started to pull away and give him room, he sprang into action.

His hand flew to his dagger, the weapon concealed in his palm until he thrust it toward the dungeon lady. In her hubris, she wasn’t wearing the same armor as her warriors, and the blade plunged deep, breaking her sternum as he forced it into her heart.

Her mouth opened in a silent disbelief, the shock clear on her features.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, letting himself feel just a little cocky. “Powers not working like they should?”

“What did you…”

The words trailed off as she staggered back from him, leaving Keaton to catch himself before he hit the ground. He’d expected her to try and take him with her — he’d braced for it, even. Instead she stumbled away, her body turning at an unnatural angle, tail moving to compensate as she went for the crystal.

Dammit, you idiot. She can’t be killed without the crystal being corrupted.

He raced for it, his legs wobbly despite the mind fogging elixir taking away her powers. She got there first, hands planted against its glass-like sides as she drew upon its energy. Keaton watched with no small amount of aggravation as her wound was healed, then brought out his scimitar and swung down, aiming for her arms.

He never reached them.

The viper’s hand shot out with lightning speed, her fingers closing around his neck as she lifted him off the ground.

“You tampered with my mind!” she hissed in a shrill voice.

“Welcome to the club,” he choked out, the scimitar and dagger both dropped as he fought to free himself.

“Thought you would be clever, did you? You could have lived like a king. Inssstead you will die like the worthless insssect you are.”

Her fingers clenched hard around his throat, crushing it in her grasp. Keaton clawed at her hand with both of his, his lower body swinging, kicking as he tried desperately to free himself.

But she was too strong, and he could feel his life force being sucked away; drawn out by some other power she was using on him. Blackness crept in from the sides of his vision, and all he could think was that he deserved this. The people fighting for him didn’t, but Keaton did.

He’d failed them.

Just as Keaton felt himself losing consciousness, the viper screeched. The hold on his neck loosened and was gone completely as he dropped to the ground in a heap. Choking and sputtering, Keaton forced himself to his feet so he could offer some kind of defense against a follow-up strike.

One never came.

His vision was hazy, yet he could clearly see Cassia pulling back her halberd, the viper’s blood flinging across the room. On the other side, flanking the dungeon lady was Adriana, her dagger wrenched free from the woman’s ribs, pure rage on her face.

They’d come. They were alive. Whether that meant they’d defeated all the snakekin or not, Keaton didn’t know. Right now, he didn’t care. He needed to make up for his oversight and finish this once and for all.

Lunging for his dagger, he narrowly avoided the swipe of the viper’s tail to grab it. Fingers curled tight around the handle as he drew the blade across his palm until blood beaded there. He clenched the dagger within it, feeling the sting of it biting into his skin. Keaton hissed but kept up until blood began to seep out, dripping from the heel of his palm.

“Don’t you touch that cryssstal, you little—”

She shot toward him, truly like a cobra lashing out from a coiled position. Her arm slammed into his, knocking the dagger free. It clattered to the ground and Keaton scrambled to retrieve it. She was too fast. Her tail curled around his legs, pulling them out from under him. He had only a second to brace before landing on his face.

But Cassia and Adriana gave her no quarter. Halberd and dagger thrashed, swinging and thrusting and plunging. None of it would do any lethal damage until he could get to the crystal, but it was enough to cause the dungeon lady pain.

“Warriorsss, defend me!” she bellowed.

Keaton didn’t wait to see who answered her call. He scooped the dagger off the floor, curled his fingers tight around the handle again, then dove for the crystal, narrowly avoiding a swipe of the viper’s tail.

“No!”

He plunged the bloodied dagger into the crystal, hearing the outer shell crack, the internal structure shattering. He drove it deep, resistance meeting him as the blade tore through the muscle tissue of a beating heart. Behind him, the leader of the snakekin let out a hideous wail.

He thought perhaps one of his companions’ strikes had landed true, but the wail continued. It pierced his eardrums, shattering them until all sound was a muffled, hazy mess. Keaton was forced to drop the dagger and cover his ears just to mitigate some of the agony he was feeling.

Dropping to the ground, blood trickling from between his fingers, he practically writhed. When the sound was over, he felt such an intense wave of relief that he didn’t notice his consciousness being pulled away. His mind was under attack, and by the time Keaton realized, it was too late.

“You could have been my consssort,” she hissed, her fangs bared at him. “Inssstead you will be my ssslave. And your firssst order isss to kill thesssse foolssss.”

His attention was forcibly turned toward his lieutenants. Keaton was trapped, a prisoner of his own mind as he bent to pick up his scimitar. He focused on Adriana first, knowing she wouldn’t lift a hand against him. It would be easy to cut her down.

No!

Something within him thrashed in protest, trying to break the bindings that held him under the viper’s thrall. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t. There had to be something he could do. There had to be—

He advanced on her, scimitar extended in his bleeding hand, more blood trickling down the sides of his face. A rictus grin stretched across his lips, madness threatening to overtake him.

“Lord Keaton…”

“Tell her to beg,” the viper whispered in his ear, her voice smooth as silk.

Keaton struggled against the command, the words coming unbidden.

“Beg for your worthless life,” he sneered, the tip of the scimitar pointed at her throat.

“Look out, my sssslave. The other one isss none too happy.”

He reacted just in time to thrust his arm out and block the halberd strike. Agony flared through him, a snap resounding in the chamber as his arm broke under the pressure. Still he didn’t stop.

“End her,” the viper commanded.

Keaton swung, but Cassia was too fast; too strong. One shift of her halberd and the blade clattered uselessly to the ground, his fingers throbbing where she’d slammed them.

“Snap out of it,” she growled, her face close to his, “or I swear I’ll knock you out and finish this myself.”

“She thinkssss you are weak,” the viper said. “She will turn on you the moment you give her reasssson to.”

Just like Elena. Just like everyone before her. Keaton’s insecurities flared to life and he grit his teeth, glaring at Cassia. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t true. But right now, it seemed like she was betraying him this very moment.

“You’re better than this,” she asserted again, shoving him back with the haft of her halberd.

His scimitar was in range. He could pick it up and slash at her when she inevitably turned to face the dungeon lady. It would be easy to cut her down. Easy, yet his hand trembled as he reached for the blade.

“Keaton, please.”

He felt Adriana’s hand on his shoulder. She was standing so close, despite the fact that he’d nearly tried to kill her.

“This isn’t you.”

It wasn’t him. Even when he’d killed as a profession, it wasn’t him. Everything in him rebelled against it, just like now. He reached out with his mind, pushing back against the enclosure she’d trapped his consciousness within. He thought of Adriana and Cassia, of all the people who now depended on him. He thought of The Labyrinth and the future he could build there.

He latched onto the bonds he’d formed with his lieutenants and held fast, grasping them for all he was worth. And slowly, Keaton felt himself being pulled free. The glass that surrounded his mind shattered, the viper’s influence falling away in a violent storm.

He was free.

And he was fucking pissed.

31

He let out a guttural roar, swiping the scimitar from the ground and lunging at the viper.

She barely managed to get a hand up to stop him, grabbing his wrist as her tail tried to curl around him. Keaton was faster, though, pushing away from her. His distance gave Cassia the chance to cleave downward with her halberd, the blood-stained edge of it feeding again. This time, as the head of the weapon sank into the dungeon lady’s shoulder, the wound didn’t begin to close automatically. When Cassia wrenched out the halberd, it didn’t close at all, gushing blood.

Adriana was the next to strike. Her broken wings were extended, spreading out behind her in a way that hinted at the majesty they’d once held. Her dagger was poised, ready to slide beneath the viper’s breasts, but the dungeon lady caught her. Like before, she wrapped her tail around Adriana, leaning back so the rest of her weight could support her as she lifted the dragonkin off the ground.

“I will break all of you,” she hissed, the smooth, seductive tone of earlier gone completely.

“No, I do not think so,” came Adriana’s reply.

She twisted in the viper’s grasp, wrenching her arm free. A flash of steel showed Keaton she hadn’t lost the dagger, and she plunged it into the snakekin’s tail. The dungeon lady cried out in pain, dropping Adriana immediately.

Cassia was prepared to strike again, but the viper was quicker. Bleeding and in pain, she still managed lightning fast reflexes, her hand shooting out to close around the Emvola’s throat. She squeezed hard, Cassia gagging in a desperate bid to get some air. From his vantage point, Keaton was able to see the snake woman’s violet eyes swirling with color, the irises seeming to move in a hypnotizing pattern.

He needed to end this, because if she had Cassia on her side, the tide would turn in her favor.

Rushing her, Keaton leapt over the tail that thrashed out to trap him, his sword arm extended.

“Hey!” he called, still in midair when the dungeon lady turned to look at him.

Her eyes widened moments before his blade sliced clean through her neck, severing the head. It flew from her shoulders, landing several feet behind her and bouncing once before going still, the eerie eyes still open and gazing sightlessly at him.

Keaton dropped the scimitar, the metal clattering on the ground as all the adrenaline left him at once. He was exhausted and shaking, and it took Cassia propping him up to keep him from collapsing.

“We did it,” she urged, shaking him in violent celebration.

They had done it, and Anima seemed to recognize that fact moments later.

You have inherited another dungeon lord’s power.

You have reached level 5.

The Slithering Crypt is no longer considered enemy territory.

The dungeon’s crystal may be claimed by another lord.

New advancements are available.

Keaton let out a heavy breath, taking all of it in. That surge of power brought feeling back to his limbs and helped him stand upright again, but his stomach was soured by everything he’d experienced and what he could still possibly do.

The crystal was unclaimed. His blood was mixed with the heart of it, and it would be easy enough for Keaton to take it over. But this was what the daemon wanted. She wanted him to conquer; to crush dissidents beneath his boot. All he’d been trying to do was protect his newfound friends and the life he’d made for himself.

His gaze cleared and Keaton looked up to find Adriana in front of him, her brow furrowed, hand resting on his arm.

“You are hesitant to claim this dungeon as your own,” she said, more insightful than he’d imagined.

Keaton nodded. “That’s not why I came here.”

“If you do not, another will. Likely someone worse than this snakekin.”

He had a hard time imagining that right now. Then again, they’d come into her lair. They’d stolen her things, and of course she’d retaliated. He would’ve done the same in her position.

I didn’t even know her name…

His stomach sank like a lead weight, his gaze casting to the crystal. Adriana had a point. Who knew what might make its way down here and inherit the power. It could be something infinitely worse.

But was he really ready to take on another dungeon?

“What happens to the minions? Are there any left?”

When he took over The Labyrinth, all of the minions he’d seen disappeared. Maybe they’d just left. He hoped for that, but he doubted it.

“Anima will reclaim them,” Adriana explained. “You must recruit any you wish to join us before interfacing with the crystal.”

“Good luck finding any,” Cassia muttered, pulling away from him to search the Crystal chamber.

“I believe there are a few who went into hiding. If you have Lord’s Sight, you can see them.”

Keaton let out a breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on a spot in the distance. The details of his surroundings faded away, revealing pockets of orange, red, and yellow, along with some purple and blue in the cave walls.

He swept the area, identifying the shapes of his own minions. Not as many as he’d come here with, but most of them were still alive. Searching beyond them, he found a few stragglers slithering deeper into the crypt, and one of them hiding in what looked like some kind of tomb.

“Let’s… deal with that first, I guess.”

Anything to avoid making an immediate decision.

Cassia remained behind, wanting to take an inventory of the items in the dungeon lady’s possession. Keaton and Adriana combed the dungeon looking for wayward minions. For each minion they found, Keaton made his offer: Join with The Labyrinth, or leave this crypt for good.

Out of the nine snakekin warriors they found, six joined them. Two decided to turn tail and run, and one was foolish enough to try and attack Adriana. Keaton had put a quick end to that.

Gathering the armor and weapon from the slain snakekin, he sent the others outside along with the Emvola warriors and the two goblins who’d served as scouts. His heart raced as he made his way back to the Crystal Chamber with Adriana. He’d need to decide soon, and he wasn’t sure there was actually a correct one here.

“Found some things that might be useful,” Cassia said when they returned. “A couple envenomed weapons, a circlet that has some kind of magic, though I’m not sure what, and some potions.”

Keaton inspected the items where she’d laid them out on the table, his gaze briefly straying to the goblet that still had mind fog potion in it. The weapons were a dagger and short sword respectively. The dagger was a nasty curved affair made of gleaming silver, and the short sword seemed to be its mate, with shimmering rubies encrusted in the hilts of each.

He picked up the dagger to inspect it more closely. In the torchlight, the silver shone with a green tint that made Keaton’s skin itch just looking at it. That must be the envenom enchantment.

“These would be handy for me to use, if you two don’t mind,” he said. “Or I can just take the dagger and one of you can use the sword.”

“You have first choice of the spoils, Lord Keaton,” Adriana said.

“That’s not how I want to do things. Do either of you want one of these?”

“Poison isn’t my thing,” Cassia said with a soft snort.

“I am not a skilled enough fighter to make use of them,” Adriana put in.

He’d have to help her rectify that. She’d done well today, but he knew her back was against the wall.

“Alright then,” he said, sheathing the dagger and sword and attaching both to his belt. “Let’s see this circlet.”

He picked it up to examine it, the image of it shimmering before showing itself to just be a plain, dented circlet.

“Are you sure this is worth anything?”

“It has a concealment enchantment on it,” Adriana said. “It will need to be dispelled and then identified.” A soft smile curved her lips. “I still think it is very pretty, though.”

“Maybe you can hold onto it until we figure out what it does? Just don’t put it on yet. We don’t know if it’s cursed.”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded, accepting the circlet from him.

“The potions we can have Vithra identify, then just add them to the dungeon’s stash.”

He turned to look at Cassia, feeling bad she hadn’t gotten anything. Then he noticed her old snakeskin armor had been replaced with one made of iridescent black scales.

She gave him a grin. “A fair reward, don’t you think? I’m the one most likely to take hits.”

Keaton nodded. “Yeah, that seems fair.”

With the loot distributed, there was nothing else to do but decide.

Keaton looked at the crystal, anxiety winding through him. He couldn’t just leave it unattended. The chance for someone worse to swoop in was too high. But he wasn’t happy with having to bind himself to this crystal, too.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” he finally said after a long breath. “I’ll claim this dungeon, but then we’re going to train the minions who came from here to run it in my stead.”

“A wise plan, my lord,” Adriana said with a nod.

He didn’t know if it was all that wise, but it was at least something he could live with.

Stepping up to the crystal, he placed his gauntlet upon it and drew in its power. He could practically taste the Anima, bitterness exploding on the back of his tongue as it coursed through his veins. Even without seeing the messages, he knew it would be more power than he’d received from anything else.

And the moment Keaton realized that, he also knew it would be an uphill battle to keep from conquering other dungeons in the future. Maybe even a battle he didn’t want to fight.

The Slithering Crypt has reverted to its natural state.

The Slithering Crypt is now level 0.

You have gained a greater affinity with Anima.

New advancements are available.

32

The trek back to The Labyrinth was a happier one this time, despite Keaton’s complicated feelings on acquiring The Slithering Crypt.

They’d won the battle. There were casualties — two more of Cassia’s warriors were slain in battle — but they’d made it out of there with a dungeon lady defeated. Whether they’d had any right to storm the viper’s territory was another matter entirely, but Keaton tried his best to push it from his mind.

It helped that as they walked through The Labyrinth, he saw all the progress they’d made. Even before he’d usurped the former lord, this place had been little more than a few empty chambers. There was much more carved out now, with the drones hard at work building new pathways and tunnels to connect everything.

The Emvola had barracks all their own, Keaton had a private bedroom, and he intended to order one constructed for Adriana and Cassia, too, assuming the latter didn’t want to remain in the barracks. There was a mushroom processing facility, a large workshop, a forge, and soon a workshop specifically for the development of potions and elixirs. He’d even managed an armory and some storage, though both needed to be expanded before too long.

As they made their way to the Crystal Chamber that had become their war room, Keaton considered the improvements he wanted to make. They needed someplace to process meat, as they’d been sorely lacking in that. An enchanter would be nice, though he had no idea what went into making an enchanter’s workshop. Maybe a library so Anima users could research and develop new things. Oh, and a large dining hall so everyone could eat together. Some sort of communal bath. A place to purify water…

The list went on and on, and Keaton was excited about developing The Labyrinth further. It’d become a home to him in a very short span of time. More importantly, it was a safe place for the people he was beginning to consider his friends. He could shelter them here. Protect them. And maybe that was what he needed to focus on most of all.

Something to conceal the entrance to this place. Secret tunnels to get in and out. Loads of traps.

Gods, I really need to start writing this stuff down.

Before they reached the Crystal Chamber, Cassia clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to go get the party started while you play with your little crystal.”

“Party?” he asked, bewildered.

“We vanquished the enemy! Conquered a dungeon!” A broad grin spread across her face. “I’d say it’s high time for a celebration. Besides, while you weren’t looking I had your little goblin friends work on fermenting some mushrooms.”

Keaton made a face, not wanting to know what kind of rotgut that would produce.

“Why don’t you leave the mushrooms be for now,” he said. “There should still be some wine from The Slithering Crypt.”

Cassia shrugged. “If you don’t want to live a little, sure.”

“Yeah, I’m more concerned about the opposite of that.”

She snorted, gave his shoulder another clap, then headed off. Down the hall, he heard her calling out to her remaining warriors. She’d lost four in total. Keaton assumed things would be more somber. But maybe this was the way Emvola dealt with their grief.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” he said to Adriana with a smile. “Are you feeling okay after that battle?”

“Yes. I am glad we were able to defeat her. I suspect she would have caused significant problems for us later on.”

Keaton frowned and turned away from her, trying to hide his expression. She reached for his arm, though, concern evident in his features.

“You do not agree?”

“I just… wonder if we did the right thing, I guess. I’m used to doing what I have to do to get by, but this wasn’t really a matter of survival.”

She canted her head, regarding him curiously. “Of course it is. If we do not grow this place, if we do not fortify it and use whatever resources we can to protect it, someone will find us and kill every one of us.”

He didn’t like the certainty with which she said that, but… she was right. The crystal was the source of immense power. It was highly coveted by anyone who had the ability to tap into Anima. He didn’t doubt they’d be under attack soon, and he couldn’t build up a good dungeon with just whatever he happened to find laying around in the swamp.

It was a necessary evil, to keep the people he was coming to care about safe. He could live with that. He had to live with that.

“Thanks,” he said softly, ruffling a hand through his hair. “That gives me some… much-needed perspective, I guess.”

Adriana smiled at him, then pushed up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. Keaton felt the same little spark of electricity he felt every time they touched, and his cheeks heated as swiftly as hers.

“You are a good man, Keaton. You will make the right decisions.”

He wasn’t so sure of that, but it was nice to have someone believe in him for once. Keaton gave her an almost bashful smile, his gaze lingering too long on her lips before he stopped himself.

“Um, that reminds me… about the whole… bonding thing…”

Her blush grew deeper, but she didn’t avert her gaze. “Yes…?”

“I don’t expect that to happen regularly, or ever again if you’re not comfortable with it. And what I said… sure, I want those things, but I—”

Her finger was pressed to his lips, quieting him.

“I want those things, too,” she whispered. “I don’t want to just watch. I think… I think I will get to that point soon. You will be the first to know, of course, and I hope you will still… want me, when I do.”

“Of course I will,” Keaton said emphatically. “That’s not going to change.”

“Good.” She bit her lip, looking up at him for a time before she turned toward the crystal. “I think it’s time for you to check in on your progress, my lord. We have made many strides since that first day.”

“We have,” he said with a smile, stepping up to the dais.

The crystal hummed as soon as he was near, the sound matching its beating heart. Keaton placed his gauntlet upon it and checked for The Labyrinth’s new information.

The Labyrinth currently holds 11 functional rooms: Crystal Chamber, Workshop, Private Bedroom, Barracks, Mushroom Farm, Forge, Alchemy Workshop, Armory, Storage Facility.

The Labyrinth is currently home to 39 minions.

You have bonded with 2 lieutenants.

Your current power level is 5.

More information displayed soon after.

You currently command two dungeons: The Labyrinth, The Slithering Crypts.

Total Dungeon Size: 62/200

Keaton continued looking through the crystal’s information. He moved around the map, mentally planning where his next rooms would go. Then he used Lord’s Sight to check in on some of his minions.

He was about to do a deeper dive and take an inventory of all the resources gathered and what his minions had built thus far when Cassia’s voice pulled him from his concentration.

“Nobody wants to drink without the man of the hour there,” she said, seeming far closer and louder than Keaton would have anticipated.

As he drew his hand away from the crystal, he realized why: She was standing right next to him, her breasts at eye level. A shock of heat ran through his blood, and he idly wondered if he’d ever stop wanting either of his lieutenants.

He hoped not. Especially when Cassia gave him a knowing grin.

“Later,” she whispered. “Maybe I’ll even let some of my girls join in this time.”

Keaton cleared his throat, trying not to let that consume his thoughts. He looked to Adriana who wore a small smirk, then back to Cassia. His trusted lieutenants. His friends. His lovers.

He would never have imagined having them in his life, but now he couldn’t imagine going on without them. Grinning, Keaton looped an arm about both of them.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s celebrate!”

That night, as Keaton slept off far too much wine, he was visited again.

He’d expected the daemon to show herself at some point. He’d done what she wanted, after all. Maybe she’d stop toying with him now. Or maybe she’d toy with him even more. Either way, when he caught the scent of cinnamon and cardamom, he was prepared.

She walked toward him in her normal manner, seeming to glide, her feet barely touching the ground. This time her golden skin cast a light that illuminated his entire room, spreading to reach the walls. As she grew closer, Keaton had to shield his eyes. He strained against it, trying to see. After a moment, he realized that light was coming from her.

“You have been a very useful partner, darling,” she purred, one long finger trailing over his arm.

“I’m not sure I would call this arrangement a partnership.”

“No?” She leaned forward, her breasts swinging into his view. “Well then, why don’t we deepen our relationship, hm? Why don’t we stop dancing around what you must know to be true.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Keaton said, eying her warily.

Some part of him wondered if it was possible to kill a daemon. It had to be. They weren’t immortal beings, just very long-lived.

“Come now, Keaton. Daemons make deals, but the powers they grant are always poor imitations of the real thing. They cannot truly tap into Anima. Their spirits do not align with it.”

He’d heard that, but he thought it was just a warning. A cautionary tale to keep people from trusting in them.

“What are you saying, then? Be straight with me, just this once.”

Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. She stepped back from him, and Keaton watched as the light grew even brighter.

“You wish to know the truth? Oh, my darling. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

Her voice changed from that smooth, seductive purr to something far more threatening. Something that seemed to come from all around him, defying explanation.

The light that poured out of the daemon grew brighter still, until Keaton couldn’t stand it anymore. He turned his face away, holding his arm up to block out the light as he blinked away the afterimage. The sound of glass shattering caught his attention, though, and when he looked back the daemon’s image was in thousands of pieces, each suspended in the space where she’d stood, blasted outward from a center point before being drawn back in.

They reformed into a terrifying shape, settling into the elongated torso of a woman, her body covered in markings, her face home to several pairs of eyes, all of them fixed on Keaton. Further down, the lower body of the daemon was gone, replaced by a thorax, a bulbous abdomen, and eight legs.

As he took in the entire image of her, Keaton suddenly understood. He’d seen paintings during his brief education. He’d even glimpsed a temple erected in her favor before the city tore it down, citing heresy.

She wasn’t a daemon at all. She was a literal goddess.

Itrix, Goddess of Chaos.

Spurned by her siblings. Rejected by the religions of the land. Regarded as the most dangerous entity in existence.

And she had complete control over his fate.

Thanks for Reading!

Thank you so much for reading Lord of Monsters. This is my first foray into harem LitRPG, so if you enjoyed the book, would you please consider leaving a review? It’s a huge help to debut authors.

Book 2 will be coming soon. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

- Nick

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Copyright © 2020 by Nick Vandran.

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Nick Vandran
LORD OF MONSTERS

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