The next day, the break was over. As a party they decided to run the dungeon a few more times to get some more levels, and be fully confident in themselves before they went to the second floor.

  The morning air outside the dungeon entrance was crisp, smelling of the lingering woodsmoke from the town. It was a sharp contrast to the stale, metallic reek that waited for them inside the warren, but Josh found that he didn't mind it as much this time.

  "Final check," Carcan ordered, tapping the butt of her staff against the stone.

  "Tight," Josh replied, giving his shield a solid thump. The leather straps were freshly oiled, sitting comfortable and familiar against his forearm.

  "Mana full," Brett added, cracking his knuckles. He looked less like a nervous student and more like an arsonist waiting for a spark.

  "Quiver stocked," Perberos said, his eyes already scanning the shadows of the entrance.

  "And I," Bhel rumbled, slamming his axes together with a shower of sparks, "am ready to introduce some lizards to the concept of rapid unplanned amputation."

  Carcan allowed herself a small, thin smile. "Then let us proceed. Josh, you have point. Bhel, off-tank. Do not overextend."

  "Aye, aye, boss," the dwarf grumbled, though there was no heat in it.

  The first thing they noticed was the silence. Not the eerie, waiting silence of the dungeon, but the silence in their own heads. The panic was gone. The frantic internal screaming that usually accompanied the first sign of movement in the shadows had been replaced by a cold, professional focus. They quickly set off, moving into the dungeon.

  Soon enough, a patrol of three kobold skirmishers rounded the corner ahead of them.

  Josh didn't even break stride. "Contact front. Three targets."

  "Left is mine," Perberos whispered. His bow hummed. The kobold on the left dropped without a sound, an arrow sprouting from its eye socket before it could even raise its spear.

  "Right is mine," Brett said calmly. He didn't use a fireball. He flicked two fingers, sending a precise arc of flame, a Firebolt—that struck the right-hand kobold in the chest. The impact knocked it backward into the wall, smelling of scorched fur.

  The middle kobold froze, weapon raised, looking between its two fallen comrades.

  It made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

  Bhel stepped out from behind Josh’s bulk. "Boo."

  The axe took the creature in the shoulder, and the fight was over before it had really begun.

  They moved deeper. The rhythm was intoxicating. Josh found himself almost dancing with the attacks, his shield moving instinctively to catch spear thrusts and deflect claws. He wasn't just blocking anymore; he was parrying, using the Repulsion enchantment in short, controlled bursts to create openings for Bhel.

  "They feel... slower," Josh noted as he shoulder-checked a kobold elite into a stalagmite.

  "They are not slower," Carcan corrected, her healing light sealing a minor scratch on Bhel’s arm. "You are faster. And you are not flinching."

  They reached the boss chamber almost too soon, this run feeling quicker than ever. The Chieftain hadn't come alone; he was guarded by a lumbering beast. Just like their first meeting, a Devastator stood at his side, clutching a stone hammer that appeared to have been pried off a monument.

  "Big guy on the left," Josh called out, settling into his stance. "Bhel, can you hold the Chief while we burn the add?"

  "Can I hold him?" Bhel scoffed, spitting on the floor. "I’ll dance with him, buy him dinner, and break his nose."

  The fight was messy, loud, and brutal, but it lacked the desperate terror of their first clear. Bhel used his new bracers to help him survive a glancing blow from the Chieftain’s glaive, laughing as he realised the first time around it probably would have chopped him in half.

  "Tickles!" the dwarf roared, headbutting the boss in the knee.

  When the Chieftain finally fell, dissolving into golden light, the timer in Josh’s head said they had cleared it ten minutes faster than their previous record.

  The chest materialized.

  "Another token," Brett said, scooping up the shimmering coin. "And... hello. What is this?"

  He pulled out a pair of boots made of soft, dark leather. They seemed to blur slightly at the edges, as if they were vibrating. Perberos took them. He didn't say thank you, but he put them on immediately and spent the walk down to the portal jumping silently between rocks like a mountain goat.

  “I sure hope they’re cursed.” Bhel grumbled.

  "Four gold?" Bhel’s voice echoed through the marketplace, causing several pigeons to take flight in panic. "Eight gold for a bag of glorious, shiny monster teeth? You’re robbing me, you bean-counting vulture!"

  The merchant, a portly man who had clearly dealt with dwarves before, didn't blink. "They are kobold teeth, master dwarf. Not dragon. They are used for grinding into bone meal fertilizer. Four gold is the standard rate for the weight."

  "These be preemo teeth!" Bhel insisted, slamming a fistful of yellowed fangs onto the counter. "Look at the plaque! That is high-quality plaque!"

  Josh sighed, leaning against a crate of apples nearby. "Should we stop him?"

  "Give him five minutes," Carcan said, examining a vial of mana potion in the next stall. "He enjoys the argument more than the money."

  "Besides," Brett added, counting their coin pouch. "If he gets it to five gold, that covers our repair bill for the day, along with the rent."

  In the end, Bhel settled for four and a half gold along with a bag of dried jerky, walking away looking like he had won a great victory.

  "Saw the fear in his eyes," the dwarf bragged, chewing on a piece of tough meat. "He knew he was dealing with a master of commerce."

  "He just wanted you to stop shouting," Perberos noted dryly.

  "Same thing, pointy-ears. Same thing."

  On their fourth run, they decided to try a shortcut mentioned in the Guidebook, a narrow fissure that bypassed the screeching fungal garden and led straight to the mini-boss arena.

  "It says 'tight squeeze'," Brett read, squinting at the book in the dim light. "But it cuts travel time by a fair chunk, along with avoiding the puzzle room."

  "I like shortcuts," Bhel said. "Less walking, more chopping."

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The fissure was a narrow vice. Josh was forced to turn sideways, the screech of his shield grinding against both walls echoing in the tight space. Carcan, however, slipped through with effortless grace, her slim frame never once brushing the stone.

  Then it was Bhel’s turn.

  "Just... breathe out," Josh advised from the other side.

  "I am breathin' out!" Bhel grunted, his face turning a distinctive shade of plum. "My shoulders are too broad! It is a sign of dwarven virility!"

  "It is a sign that you eat too many pies," Brett muttered, pushing from behind.

  They spent twenty minutes trying to uncork the dwarf from the rock face, Brett bracing his legs against the wall and pushing with all of his might at one point to dislodge the dwarf, who landed on the floor with a thud.

  "Do not speak of this," Bhel warned, sliding comically as he tried to stand up. "Not a word."

  The journey had been a pain, but it had cut out several of the more annoying and low value encounters with the weaker kobold, instead bringing the party out just before the boss cavern.

  The fight that followed was less of a battle and more of a chaotic slide-show. Bhel taking his frustration and embarrassment of getting stuck out on the poor dungeon beasts.

  "I’m a whirlwind of death!" he shouted, spinning past one of the door guard and accidentally clipping its knee.

  "You’re a hazard!" Carcan yelled, dodging a flailing dwarf limb.

  Despite the chaos, or perhaps because of it, the guards were too confused to fight properly. Bhel dealt the final killing blow by accidentally slipping, falling forward, and burying his axe in the kobolds chest.

  "Calculated," Bhel said breathlessly, wiping slime from his beard.

  Josh just shook his head, trying to hide his laughter. "Let’s... let’s stick to the main path next time."

  The boss run was cleaner, though they were all still chuckling. They found a ring that they would later find out was a Ring of Minor Focus in the chest, which went to Brett - though he waited to confirm it wasn’t cursed.

  —

  By the fith run, something shifted.

  They weren't thinking about the mechanics anymore. They weren't counting cooldowns or calling out every target. They just... flowed.

  It was a strange, almost meditative state. Josh would raise his shield a split second before an attack landed, not because he saw it coming, but because he felt the rhythm of the fight. Brett’s spells woven into the gaps of Perberos’ arrows, flame and steel arriving at the same target in perfect sync.

  They moved through the dungeon like a thresher through wheat.

  Kobolds fell in droves. Traps were spotted and disarmed without breaking stride.

  "Left flank collapsing," Josh said quietly.

  "Covered," Bhel replied, stepping in to fill the gap before it even opened.

  "Heal on Josh," Carcan murmured, the golden light landing exactly as a spear grazed his ribs.

  "Thanks."

  "Welcome."

  They reached the boss chamber feeling not exhausted, but energized. The Chieftain this time was accompanied by two Shaman healers.

  "Focus the healers," Josh ordered.

  They executed the strategy with terrifying efficiency. Perberos silenced one Shaman with a throat shot. Brett incinerated the other with a concentrated Flamewhip. Bhel and Josh isolated the Chieftain, trading aggro back and forth so smoothly that the boss spun in confused circles, unable to land a solid hit on either of them.

  When the Chieftain fell, the notification didn't just appear. It exploded into their vision, golden and triumphant.

  [You have levelled up, reaching Level 17!]

  Josh felt the surge of power wash over him, his muscles knit together, denser and stronger. The fatigue in his legs evaporated. He felt his perception expand, the dungeon sharpening in detail around him.

  "Seventeen," Brett breathed, staring at his hands where faint sparks of mana danced.

  "I got Shield Bash II," Josh said, grinning. "Added stun chance."

  They stood in the silence of the boss room, the loot chest ignored for a moment, just basking in the raw, addictive feeling of growth.

  "We are getting strong," Perberos said. It wasn't a question.

  "Yeah," Josh agreed, clenching his fist. "We are."

  The loot was decent but nothing great, this time a pile of gems but the real treasure was the number floating in the corner of their vision.

  Soon they restarted the dungeon from the start again. They were high on the level-up, and that last run had been even quicker than the times before.

  But this sixth run felt... different.

  They tore through the first room. The kobolds died in one or two hits. Josh blocked attacks without even bracing his feet.

  "Boring," Bhel muttered as he pulled his axe out of a scout’s skull.

  "Focus," Carcan chided, but even she sounded bored.

  The victory was too fast and too easy. The Chieftain had fallen in minutes, yet as his body faded, he took the thrill of the dungeon with him. The party stood in the sudden, uncomfortable quiet of the chamber, the loot chest sitting unopened and unimportant. It felt like a wasted effort, a run that had drained them without giving anything back. Josh looked around at his friends, his hands still ready for a fight that was already over, his face a mask of mounting confusion.

  "Diminishing returns," Perberos said, retrieving his arrows. "We are too high level for this floor now. The system is throttling the rewards."

  "It’s not just the XP," Bhel said, kicking the loot chest open. "Look at this trash. More basic gems. A rusty dagger. No money. No magical gear."

  Josh looked around the chamber. The threat was gone. The tension that made the fights feel real, that made the victories feel earned, had evaporated. They weren't adventurers surviving against the odds anymore. They were exterminators clearing a basement. This wasn’t how they made progress.

  "It feels like work," Josh realized aloud. "Just... labour."

  "Caistina mentioned this at the goblin dungeon," Brett said, rubbing his temples. " 'The soft cap'. Once you out level a floor by more than two levels, the drop rates and XP tank. It pushes you to move on."

  "Or it forces you to grind for weeks to get what you used to get in a day," Bhel grumbled.

  They gathered the loot in silence. It felt lighter, less significant. The coins didn't ring as loudly.

  As they walked back to the surface, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the valley. The triumph of Level 17 earlier in the day now felt muted by the realisation of what came next.

  The mood at their usual table in the Twin Trails Inn was subdued. They had gold in their pouches and levels in their status bars, but the ale tasted a little flat.

  "So," Josh said, breaking the silence. He traced the grain of the wood on the table with his finger. "We hit the wall."

  "We hit the wall," Brett agreed. "If we want to carry on using the first floor, that’d mean weeks of grinding the same kobolds, seeing the same caves, smelling the same musk."

  "I will go mad," Bhel stated flatly. "I will start eating the mushrooms just to feel something."

  Carcan took a sip of her wine. "Then we have no choice."

  She didn't need to finish the sentence. The words hung in the air between them.

  The Second Floor.

  "We have the key," Perberos reminded them. "We have had it since the first clear."

  "The Foundry," Josh said. He remembered the description from the Guidebook. Organised military units. Stronger beasts. Traps. Fire magic.

  "It’s a jump," Brett said nervously. "Level 16 to 19 range. The difficulty spike is supposed to be significant. But, better gear on the enemies."

  "We are Level 17," Carcan pointed out. "We are statistically ready. Our gear is upgraded. Our skills are honed."

  "It’s not the stats," Josh admitted. "It’s... the unknown. We know these kobolds. We know how they move. We know where the safe spots are. Going down there? It’s starting over. Being the weak ones again."

  Bhel slammed his tankard down. "Good! I’m sick of being the strong one! Where is the glory in stomping on ants? I want something that fights back! I want to fear for my beard again!"

  Josh looked at the dwarf and cracked a smile. "You just want better loot."

  "I want loot that doesn't smell like wet dog!" Bhel roared. "And I want a challenge."

  Perberos nodded slowly. "Stagnation is death. If we stay here, we get sloppy. We get complacent. And then we die anyway, just slower."

  Brett looked at Josh. "Tank makes the call. You lead the charge. Do you want to open that door?"

  Josh thought about the grind. He thought about the feeling of the Chieftain’s glaive bouncing harmlessly off his shield and how it felt empty, not victorious. Then he thought about the feeling of their flow. The perfect synchronization of their party. The way they moved as one unit.

  They were ready. They were more than ready.

  "We go down," Josh said firmly. "Tomorrow morning. Restock on potions, repair gear, and then we hit the Second Floor."

  Carcan raised her glass. "To the Foundry."

  "To getting burned," Brett grinned, a little nervously.

  "To better loot!" Bhel cheered.

  "To the unknown," Perberos whispered.

  Josh clinked his glass against theirs. The fear was there, yes. The familiar tightening in his gut that told him danger was coming. But for the first time, it was mixed with something else.