Viktor watched as the battle unfolded before his eyes.

  Redhead dashed forward, her axe raised high. Sebekton crouched in a defensive posture, yellow eyes fixed on his opponent, waiting for the strike. As the female warrior swung down with all her might, the Guardian’s massive weapon went upward to intercept. Steel met steel in a piercing screech that split the air as sparks rained down the sandy arena.

  The woman’s muscles swelled beneath her skin, blue veins throbbing visibly. She had had her physical abilities enhanced by Brunette’s enchantment, which was why she could meet the towering Crocodilian head-on. And her weapon, though smaller than the one wielded by her foe, was a Reliquary. It was much more durable than it looked, so it could clash against Sebekton’s enormous slab of metal without being damaged.

  Steel clanged, again and again. They had traded blows three times. Four now. Redhead was panting, sweat pouring off her in rivers. At this point, it was clear that even with the assistance of her enchantment and weapon, the female warrior was still not a match for Sebekton. Gradually, she was pushed back, her boots carving deep trenches in the sand.

  Fool, Viktor thought. The woman fought like a drunken brawler in a tavern. Since she was smaller and faster than her opponent, she should have danced around him, deflecting and parrying his strikes. Instead, she bared her teeth and repeatedly threw herself against an unmovable wall while expecting it would budge somehow.

  Nevertheless, it was not like she was alone. Redhead still had companions to cover for her non-optimal fighting style.

  Above, Manfred circled like a vulture, waiting for Sebekton to show an opening to attack. When he saw his woman was driven back, he dove, mithril blade aimed for the Guardian’s eye. Sebekton stepped back to evade the jab, allowing Redhead to regain her footing. Then Manfred veered, lifting himself up into the air once more.

  [That is strange. Why is he so passive?]

  Celeste’s confusion was understandable. After all, the winged swordsman had moved like a lightning bolt earlier. If he really wanted to, he should have been able to hit Sebekton multiple times by now.

  “To put it simply,” Viktor replied with a chuckle, “he’s afraid.”

  [Afraid?]

  “Yes. Unlike goblins or spiders, he can’t take down Sebekton with one single hit. The rapier is a fine weapon, excellent for stabbing his opponents’ vital organs, less so for hacking through stacks and stacks of muscle and scales. If he lands a hit but his rapier gets stuck in the thick hide, he’ll be vulnerable to a counterattack. Sebekton, on the other hand, could snap him like a twig. So he won’t commit unless he is completely sure that it’s safe.”

  [I see.]

  Manfred could have avoided this whole mess if he had just acted like a normal aeromancer, staying back while manipulating his sword to attack from a distance. His decision to become a fencer had put him in a bad spot. As a result, neither of the two fighters engaging Sebekton right now was doing their jobs correctly. The one who was supposed to hold the line was busy playing berserker, while the one who should be dishing out the damage was too timid and hesitant, dancing at the edge of the fight.

  Well, at least they were actually doing something, unlike the rest of their merry little band. Brunette was obviously useless during combat, but even Blondie couldn’t do much to help. Since her companions were clashing with Sebekton in close quarters, she couldn’t order her metallic birds to unleash their flame breath, fearing they would roast her own friends. So the constructs just hovered uselessly in the air.

  It was abundantly clear that Sebekton could win this fight on his own. Sooner or later, Redhead’s lungs would give out, or her legs would betray her, and once she dropped, the whole fragile balance would fall apart. Manfred himself might manage to escape with his favorite woman, but the other two would end up being little more than red splashes on the sand.

  Nevertheless, that would take time, and time was what Viktor couldn’t afford right now.

  “Where is Cedric’s party?” he asked his Dungeon Core.

  [They are almost at the end of the first floor, Master.]

  If they arrived and teamed up with Manfred’s group to fight Sebekton, things could get very ugly. Thankfully, he had already had a plan in place to wrap up this fight before the other party showed up.

  “Is everyone ready?”

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  [Yes, Master. They are waiting for your command.]

  “Let’s get started, then.”

  The water erupted. Froglings surged onto the sand, their eyes locked on Brunette and Blondie, who barely had time to register the threat before the monsters charged. Since both Manfred and Redhead were occupied by their own little dance with Sebekton, the two women would have to fend for themselves.

  Blondie directed her birds to come back to her, using their flame breath to keep the creatures at bay. As the constructs returned to her side, they unleashed streams of fire, sending blazing arcs across the ground. A frogling ignited, howling in pain as its skin and flesh melted, steam from its body fogging the air. The others hissed in frustration. They tried to advance, but the intense heat drove them back, so all they could do was glare angrily at the woman from across the fiery wall.

  Even though Blondie had managed to halt the assault, Brunette bolted, scrambling away in the opposite direction like a rat with its tail caught in a trap.

  “Lord Manfred, help—”

  Her scream ended in an abrupt gulp as a hidden trapdoor beneath her swung open. She fell into the water below, and immediately, merfolk hands dragged her under.

  That had been Viktor’s plan all along. The froglings’ attack was merely meant to herd Brunette exactly where he wanted her. She had been his primary target from the start, the weakest link of this party.

  There were trapdoors scattered throughout the sandy arena, similar to the ones on the first floor. But unlike those, what these trapdoors concealed was not sharp spikes, but the depth of the water. Also, they were manually operated by the merfolk below to make sure that they wouldn’t activate whenever someone walked across, but only when the right target stepped onto them.

  Brunette’s fingers clawed the surface. She struggled to spurt words out as her mouth bobbed above and below the water level. “Lord... Manfred... help...”

  Viktor could have drowned her right away if he wanted. But he didn’t. The plan was to keep her there so that she could scream for help.

  “Beatrice!” Manfred cried, streaking toward his woman. He grabbed her wrists, trying to pull her up with both his physical strength and magical power. Wind howled around them, the air itself bending to his surging panic. But it was in vain. Most of her body was submerged, so there was little the wind could do. More and more merfolk gathered below, grabbing Brunette. Manfred’s veins bulged as he strained to lift her, but the merfolk clung like anchors.

  As the two were stuck in their desperate tug-of-war, and Blondie was busy fending off the swarm of froglings, Redhead was left alone to face Sebekton. Her swings came in wild, clumsy arcs that betrayed her own exhaustion. As her grip faltered, the Guardian’s axe hooked hers, wrenching it sideways.

  Before she could even suck in a breath, he was already moving, blade hissing through the air in a wide, murderous sweep. She dodged it, barely, but wasn’t fast enough to evade the follow-up. The Crocodilian’s massive tail slammed into her chest, and Viktor could hear the sound of ribs cracking. The warrior woman was sent sprawling to the ground, crashing into the sand.

  Sebekton loomed over his defeated foe, axe rising. His slit-pupiled eyes narrowed on the exposed patch of her abdomen.

  You should’ve worn armor there. Viktor smirked. But to be fair, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference against a weapon of that size.

  The axe fell.

  Redhead screamed as cold steel sliced through her belly. The spine cracked, and her torso was sundered, mangled intestines spilling out like snakes slithering away from their nest. The two halves of the once-proud form now convulsed uncontrollably on the spreading lake of blood. The female warrior’s face was contorted in agony, and after a few twitches, she lay still, her eyes staring vacant like dead fish.

  “Tyra! Noooooooooo!” Blondie’s wail tore through the arena. It was raw and primal. She dropped to her knees, her finger clawing at her face. As nails drew blood, she gagged, vomit splattering onto the sand. Viktor was a bit taken aback by the sight. He had thought they were all rivals for the man’s affection, so he hadn’t expected her to care about the other woman that much.

  Sebekton didn’t linger. He spun and lunged at Manfred, who was still struggling to haul Brunette from the water.

  The man panicked. It seemed that he couldn’t decide whether he should abandon the woman and flee or stay with her. Such indecision cost him his life. He let Brunette go a little too late, and Sebekton’s axe split his skull before he could fly away. The blade lodged deep, cleaving through bone, brain, and jaw, making a real mess of the playboy’s once-handsome face. The Guardian planted one leg on his chest and wrenched the axe free. The lifeless body toppled, one eyeball dangling from its socket.

  With Manfred killed, there was no longer a need to keep Brunette alive. She surfaced one last time, eyes bulging, hair plastered to her face, before cold hands from the deep seized her, dragging her down for good. She thrashed, kicking, but it was futile. Her body jerked and spasmed as she sank, until the water stilled.

  Viktor looked at the surface where she had disappeared, the ripples slowly fading. Bubbles rose, then ceased. Three down, one more to go.

  He turned his attention to the last member of the group. She was kneeling on the sand, sobbing, while her metallic birds lay motionless nearby. Had the froglings managed to bring down the constructs, or had she simply given up?

  It didn’t matter.

  His minions were closing in on the woman, their eyes gleaming with a thirst for vengeance. For too long, they had been terrorized by the relentless fire from her mechanical birds. Now it was she who was being cornered, and they were going to make her pay.

  One frogling lunged at Blondie with its jagged polearm, and she raised her trembling hands in a desperate attempt to block. The blade sheared through flesh and bone, splitting her gauntleted palm clean off. Blood splattered the creature’s face, and it hissed, raising its weapon once again.

  But just as the finishing blow was about to connect, the frogling froze, stopped mid-strike, as the tip of a projectile jutted out from its eye socket. A crossbow bolt had just punched through its skull from behind, and it wasn’t hard for Viktor to figure out who was responsible.

  [Master, Cedric’s party has arrived.]

  “I know,” he scoffed.