I approached slowly, wading through the crimson field until I reached a circular clearing of flattened grass in the center. Chaos, the thin, pale-skinned, red-eyed bastard, was reclined back in a lawn chair next to a small fire. Sitting across from him was Waimo, the massive elite goblin knight, who still towered over me despite sitting hunched over on a stump.

  Waimo held a glass bottle between his two bratwurst sized fingers, obscuring the label as he took delicate sips. His enormous form was clad in a grime-covered steel chest plate that was the size of a grand piano lid. He wore a matching set of armored leggings that somehow encased his muscular legs.

  Holding out a beer from a six-pack, Chaos said, “You've been busy and became a teeny-bit stronger. Why don't you take a break and have a beer?”

  For a split second, I considered lunging forward and driving the tip of my sword into his arrogant face. Instead, I pressed my thumbs into my temple, suppressing my anger. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hey now, don't steal my line. And what's with that blood lust I'm sensing? Tone it down or you might upset my acquaintance.” Chaos pointed at the goblin knight, who was struggling to twist the cap off another beer. “I've done you the favor of unlocking the dungeon. You and your party should call it quits. Stop wasting time and follow the moon like I mentioned before.”

  I ignored his offer of an ice-cold Corona. “Yeah, what could go wrong with such detailed directions from a trustworthy individual like yourself?”

  Chaos unveiled a toothy grin as Waimo roared. I snatched the beer from the goblin knight's hands, popped the cap, and handed it back. Waimo's growls subsided as he gulped down the brew in a single go. “These aren't twist offs,” I said, doubting the goblin knight understood a single word as I turned to Chaos. “You could've at least brought some limes.”

  I relented and grabbed a bottle for myself. The skunky hop-laced flavor brought back memories of the few college parties I had attended years ago. None of which included an evil, drunken Shrek and a smarmy little demon. No matter the reason was for his appearance, it certainly wasn't coincidental.

  “Lime, you say? Maybe next time.” Chaos smirked.

  “Aren't you violating some kind of inter-dimensional protocol by smuggling shit here from Earth?” I asked.

  Chaos leaned forward and cupped his hands around his mouth, whispering, “Oh, don't worry. Shoplifting isn't exactly on the bureaucrats’ radar.”

  “If I mention it to Justice—”

  Clapping his hands together, Chaos rose from the lawn chair, his eyes turning into sharpened silhouettes. “Choose your next words with the utmost care. You are a pawn, and pawns can get knocked off the board at any time. Recognize your place.”

  I casually took another sip of beer. “I appreciate the cliched analogy, but I never was a fan of chess. And you're mistaken if you think I fear death. We have quite a close relationship. I've already met him once.”

  His silence spoke volumes, confirming what I already suspected. He couldn't just kill me. Despite always presenting himself as a rule breaker, it seemed there were some lines even he couldn't cross.

  “Take your own advice. You're the creepy little puppet master, pulling strings in the shadows. I bet you have more at risk than anyone else. Do me a solid and leave me out of it.”

  Finally, Chaos sat back down, kicking his feet up. “Well, I guess you're not a complete moron. I can't force you to move in one direction or another. I was only trying to help guide you.”

  “Yeah, great customer service. I really loved getting shoved in front of a train and your corpse possession prank. I plan to clear this dungeon. Will that put you in a tough spot?”

  “I'd rather you didn’t but do as you please. In the long run it won't affect things in the slightest.” Chaos yawned and tossed the beer bottle over his shoulder. “Consider your safety and turn back.”

  Glass shattered as I mirrored his dramatics, throwing my bottle at the goblin knight's feet. “That's unfortunate. I hoped clearing this place would at least be an inconvenience. If only there was a train I could shove you in front of. Then we'd be close to even.”

  Chaos laughed, and Waimo joined in with a booming chuckle that echoed across the field. “An inconvenience? I can snap my finger and spawn a dungeon.” He snapped his fingers twice. “Not impressed?” He snapped his finger again.

  I threw up my hands, turned my back, and walked away.

  “Hey!” Chaos yelled after me. “Just so you know, if you mention my name to Justice your heart will explode.”

  Lovely.

  ***

  Breakfast was always one of my favorite meals because of its variety and flexibility. There was an endless array of options, sweet or savory. Eggs, waffles, sausage, bacon, toast, cereal, orange juice, milk, fruits, and hell, maybe even throw in an avocado. None of of the aforementioned was served during what we assumed to be morning. Instead, the party suffered through last night's reheated gruel.

  It was hard to gauge how much time everyone slept, but it couldn't have been for more than a few restless hours.

  I opted for one of my rations of cured fish and a strange wheat granola. Yet, the odd combination was more palatable than what everyone else was consuming. The party could barely conceal the agony that came with each bite of their gruel.

  “Don't eat too much. I sense a powerful presence a few hundred yards to the north,” I said.

  Nobody hesitated to throw their half-eaten meal to the side, packing their bowls and utensils away.

  “Let's leave the extra provisions behind,” Duskblade said. “Be combat ready. Only carry enough food and water for two days. We can always return here if necessary.”

  Grace tied her ginger hair into a ponytail and stretched her hands over her head, yawning. “Thank the heavens. My shoulders are still sore from yesterday.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “We'll be moving at a quicker pace than yesterday. Try to keep up,” I said and dashed off.

  They scrambled in my wake, trying and failing spectacularly to match my speed. After reaching the edge of the forest before the open field, I stopped and scanned the area. Though I couldn't physically see the target, Waimo’s status appeared, hovering over the field’s center.

  Target: Waimo

  Level: 7

  Karma: -1255

  Additional Data: Slightly Hungover Elite Goblin Knight

  Additional status information unavailable.

  It was a shame I hadn't leveled up before having to face a level seven boss. Tackling such a creature without a safety net would be dangerous. I considered asking the party to participate, but I worried about how the experience points would be distributed. Would they be split evenly, based on participation, or perhaps by who dealt the last hit?

  Eventually, Duskblade and Grace appeared side by side, followed soon after by Tobias, Oakley, Joel, and Callum. They panted, out of breath, and dripping with sweat. Their lack of stamina despite their levels concerned me.

  “The enemy is in the center of the field. It's an elite goblin knight. Anyone fought one of those before?” I asked.

  Tobias and Oakley shared confused glances. Grace and Joel shook their heads and Callum the Fearless puked once more.

  “You're mistaken, right?” Duskblade asked, the alarm in his tone evident. “They only appear in B rank dungeons or higher.”

  “Start considering this a B rank dungeon,” I replied. “You said it yesterday. Nothing about this place is normal. Now, what have you heard about them?”

  Duskblade sighed as he scanned the field. “I don't see it.”

  “It's there,” I said.

  “Then we're in trouble. You sure it isn't a regular goblin knight?” Duskblade shrugged.

  “Cast your doubts aside and tell me how you'd deal with an elite,” I said.

  “Dealing damage is difficult. Its skin will be thicker than high-tier armor and more resilient. Slashing attacks will prove ineffective. I've only ever heard of them being taken down by powerful elemental magic. And its defense isn't even the crux of the issue. They have insane combat instincts and unparalleled strength. If it gets a clean hit, you'll be dead,” Duskblade said.

  “Tobias and Oakley, can either of you cast any enhancement spells?” I asked.

  The two boys answered with blank stares. Of course it was too big of an ask. Apparently, it took years of practice to master a single spell, so I wasn't really expecting much more from our teenage healers.

  Tobias bowed his head. “Sorry, the best I can do is a ranged recovery spell that stops bleeding and heals light injuries.”

  “My specialty is a heavy heal, but it's a channeled spell and it saps all of my energy,” Oakley added.

  “That's fine. I should be able to handle this one alone. All of you just stand back and watch. If I signal for it, make use of your bows and provide me with ranged support. Even if the attacks don't hurt it, it could be a useful distraction. If you engage in melee combat, you'll die.”

  “Hold on!” Grace pounded her first into the dirt. “That's madness, Cyprus.”

  Joel raised his hand and asked, “What's the signal?”

  “The signal is OH SHIT, SOMEONE HELP!” I shouted, my voice roaring across the expansive field. I wanted to provoke the boss and evade a prolonged argument with my under-leveled peers in one fell swoop.

  The sea of grass rippled out from the field's center. Wispy ruby strands of grass bent from the sudden movement of an immense force. Waimo slowly rose from the ground. Standing 12 feet tall, the heavily armored, slack jawed goblin gazed in our direction and let out an explosive growl.

  Clearly pissed off from being rudely awoken while hungover, the creature raised its massive battle axe in the air and yelled again. As unintelligible as its words were, I bet he was marking us for death.

  Grace grabbed a bow and nocked an arrow, but I grabbed her arm and shook my head. “Not until my signal.”

  She reluctantly pulled away, lowering the weapon. Rather than waste another second, I burst into the field, parting the grass in a straight line toward the boss, who seemed acutely aware of my movements and preemptively wound back his battle axe.

  Digging my soles into the dirt, I halted my advance at the last second. The beast leaned into its swing, extending its reach as it sliced through the field with a deadly quickness, forcing me to backpedal.

  Strands of severed ruby grass danced between us, whirling through the air as the monster tilted its head, surprised by the fact I still drew breath. I maintained distance, using the vast plain as a buffer, knowing my opponent was too powerful to engage without first getting a proper read.

  Waimo certainly looked fiercer when he wasn't hunched over with a beer in his hand. He was wearing a full set of steel armor, minus a helmet. I figured a bastard like him rarely encountered an opponent that could reach his head or maybe finding a helmet to fit his giant bowling ball like noggin was impossible.

  The ground rumbled as the armored goblin lunged forward, unleashing a combination of diagonal and horizontal slashes. Knowing my sword would snap if I attempted to block, I focused on my footwork, imposing a precise gap just outside of the goblin's reach. After a continuous series of failed attacks, the elite stopped in its tracks, catching its breath. Despite the language barrier, the statement I made was clear.

  You can't touch me.

  I settled on a defensive strategy, planning to wait until the bastard grew frustrated and made a mistake or ran out of stamina. It was still too soon to make a move without risking an arm or a leg. And I wanted to avoid revealing any of my abilities to the spectators.

  The goblin knight roared and pushed onward, driving his heels into the dirt, channeling his overwhelming strength into his advance. He was desperate to break through the gap I had established. But the designated safe space, just outside of his reach, never shrank. No barrage of attacks or emphasis on haste proved effective.

  After five minutes of pussy footing, an awful shriek that embodied the frustration of someone stubbing their toe 1000 times in a row rang out across the battlefield. The beast had stopped its advance once more, pointing its axe at me, grumbling gibberish.

  I raised my sword and dropped it at my feet, then took a boxing stance, balling my hands into fists. The elite goblin knight accepted my unspoken challenge, dropping his own axe.

  Thankfully, he took the bait. I doubted my cheap sword would’ve done damage and it sure as hell wouldn't have been able to parry his axe.

  A torrential sweat poured down Waimo’s furrowed brow as his heartbeat throbbed like a coked-up bongo drum. Yet, a small scrap of hope glinted in its eyes.

  Even disarmed, I grew concerned as the goblin took to a grappling stance. If I got caught in a hold, he would tear my limbs off. With that in mind, I approached with bouncy footwork, ready to evade laterally or slip through an attack.

  Seizing the advantage of his superior reach, he unleashed a frenzy of heavy jabs that nearly clipped my head as I weaved through them. Waimo swung his armored boot onto the ground, kicking dirt into my eyes. Momentarily blinded, I felt the ground beneath me shift as he lurched at me.

  I waited patiently, forcing my eyes open until the goblin committed to a downward strike with both hands joined. Waimo may have matched my agility and greatly exceeded my strength, but he lacked technique. The whoosh of displaced air whispered overhead as I side-stepped the strike.

  Agility Burst.

  I used his lowered arms as stepping stones. As I ran up the armored ramp, I launched my knee into his chin. Waimo's teeth cracked together, and I pushed my feet off its chest piece, advancing into the air. The stunned elite stumbled back, and I dropped down, concentrating all of my strength into a skull-shattering elbow strike. It felt like I had intentionally driven my funny bone head-on into a concrete pillar. I flipped backward, landing ten yards from my opponent.

  Clutching my elbow and blinking the dirt out of my eyes, I failed to notice that the elite goblin king had crumpled to the ground. It lay on its belly, blood pooling out of its dented skull.

  +1300 XP

  +250 Karma

  LEVEL UP

  +2 Ability Point

  +2 Mastery Points

  Subclass Unlocked

  Main Class Specialization Unlocked

  +1 Strength

  +1 Agility

  +1 Stamina

  It's already over?