The runes flared once more, then the great stone door rumbled open.

  The three slipped inside, every step deliberate, every breath held tight.

  “Silence,” Leo whispered, notebook clutched to his chest. “Not a word. Not a sound. Statistically essential.”

  They crept forward into the chamber. Sand dripped in lazy streams from the cracked ceiling. In the center, the Naga Warden coiled silently, staff glowing faintly, its head swaying as if it were listening.

  For a moment, all was still.

  Then: squeak.

  The noise cut through the silence like a blade.

  They froze.

  …squeak.

  The Naga Warden’s head turned toward them. Its tongue flickered.

  …squeak, squeak, squeak.

  Harlada clutched her face. “Are you kidding me?” she hissed.

  Bert’s armor straps groaned as he shifted, every joint screaming like tortured mice. “It’s… it’s just a little noise!”

  The Naga hissed louder, uncoiling. Its staff crackled with green light.

  The crystal pulsed overhead, text blazing smug:

  Reminder: Stealth Required. Idiots in Plate = Auto-Fail.

  Leo flailed his hands in panic. “Remove it! Remove it now!”

  Bert groaned, fumbling at his straps. Each buckle shrieked like a dying rat as he tore the armor off piece by piece, clattering onto the stone floor in a pile that echoed a hundredfold.

  The Naga raised its staff, venom dripping.

  Only by freezing the air did Harlada buy them a second’s grace — frost crawling across the floor and muffling the sound.

  The Naga paused, tongue flicking. Slowly, it lowered its staff, listening.

  The three crouched together in the dark, Bert half-naked, sweat glistening.

  The crystal pulsed again, practically crying with laughter:

  Achievement Unlocked: Told You So. Reward: None.

  ***

  They spread out slowly, every step measured, every breath swallowed. For once, it looked almost competent.

  Harlada skirted to the left, frost already crawling over her fingertips. Leo crept to the right, notebook clutched tight, whispering vectors under his breath. Bert crouched forward, bare chest gleaming with sweat, Leo’s quill clutched like a dagger.

  The Naga Warden swayed in the center, listening. Its staff pulsed faint green.

  Then Bert’s nose twitched. His eyes widened.

  “Don’t,” Harlada hissed.

  He sneezed. Loud. Explosive. Echoing through the chamber like a trumpet.

  The Naga’s head snapped toward him. With a hiss, it uncoiled, sliding closer, scales scraping the stone. Ten meters. Five. Two. Its forked tongue flicked almost against Bert’s face.

  Leo panicked. He clapped his hands, then flung his voice across the chamber with a shouted: “OVER HERE!”

  The sound bounced wildly off the walls, a chorus of echoes erupting everywhere at once.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The Naga hissed, whipping around. It slithered toward the phantom voices, leaving Bert frozen in place, quill trembling in his fist.

  And then — shhhk! — its coils slid over a patch of ice.

  The Warden’s body whipped sideways, crashing against the stone with a thunderous hiss. Frost spidered further, holding it in place for a heartbeat.

  The three of them blinked.

  Bert still crouched half-naked, quill raised.

  Leo stood gasping, palms out like he’d just performed a miracle.

  Harlada exhaled frost, shaking her head.

  “…We forgot to loot again, didn’t we?” she muttered.

  The crystal pulsed overhead, smug as ever:

  Improvised Tactics Detected. Achievement Unlocked: Lucky Idiots. Reward: None.

  ***

  The Naga Warden writhed on the frozen stone, its coils thrashing, scales hissing against ice.

  “Now!” Harlada shouted, frost streaming from her palms to hold it down.

  Bert charged, barefoot, half-naked, and grinning like a lunatic. He raised the quill high overhead. “STABBY TIME!”

  He plunged it into the naga’s chest. Once. Twice. Again. Each strike barely more than a pinprick, but the creature shrieked, its body convulsing with every puncture.

  Leo darted forward, heart hammering. He caught the glint of green light—the staff! Venom dripped from its runes, sizzling as it hit the floor.

  With a shout, Leo kicked it away. It skittered across the chamber, sparks flaring as it spun into the shadows.

  The Naga screeched, lunging for the staff—but Bert tackled its upper body, stabbing again and again, quill flashing like a tiny spear.

  The chamber shook with its death throes. Its yellow eyes dimmed, breath rattling.

  For the first time, they saw it weaken—serpent coils slackening, icy cracks spreading across its body. It was an inch from death.

  They stood panting, half in disbelief.

  “…Is this… working?” Harlada whispered, frost still streaming.

  Leo adjusted his glasses, sweat dripping. “Statistically improbable. Yet undeniable.”

  Bert raised the bloodied quill high. “Victory! By stationery!”

  The crystal pulsed overhead, text hesitating like it couldn’t process what it was seeing:

  Boss Integrity: 2%. Fatal Blow Pending.

  ***

  The Naga Warden lay twitching, coils slack, its breaths ragged. The quill stuck out of its chest like a broken dart.

  Bert raised his sword over his head. “Alright. Final strike. But we do it properly.”

  Harlada frowned. “Properly?”

  “Kill pose,” Bert said, grinning. “Like in the murals. Hero stance. Sword up, magic blazing, all three of us striking together.”

  Harlada rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid.”

  “It’s cinematic!” Bert insisted.

  Leo adjusted his glasses, nodding slowly. “Statistically accurate. A kill pose increases perceived competence by at least seventy-two percent.”

  They scrambled into position, arguing the details.

  “Left side, more dramatic!” Bert barked.

  “No, angle the frost upward, it’ll look cooler!” Harlada snapped.

  Leo held his empty hands up. “Do I look better pointing or writing?”

  “Neither,” Bert muttered.

  While they bickered, the Naga Warden stirred. Its eyes flared. One trembling coil reached across the floor. Fingers grasped. The staff skittered back into its hand.

  The crystal pulsed overhead, smug:

  Reminder: Delay Punished. Idiots.

  The Naga hissed, venom gathering at the staff’s tip.

  They froze.

  “Uh oh,” Bert muttered.

  The staff flared green—

  —and Leo bolted.

  He tucked his notebook under his arm and charged with all the grace of a deranged boar, head down, shoulders hunched.

  WHAM!

  He slammed straight into the Naga’s chest, quill driving deeper with the impact. The Warden screeched, coils thrashing, before collapsing backward. Its staff clattered away as its body dissolved into dust and scales.

  Silence.

  The crystal pulsed slowly, almost stunned:

  Encounter Cleared. Attempt: 7. Fatal Blow: Leo (Boar’s Rush).

  Bert blinked. “…That was the dumbest kill pose I’ve ever seen.”

  Harlada smirked, shaking frost from her hands. “Dumb. But it worked.”

  Leo wheezed, glasses cracked, voice trembling. “…Statistically… effective.”

  The dungeon crystal pulsed again, sulky but resigned:

  Reward Pending.