“So that was the issue with the monsters?” The mayor sits on a sofa in Glyn’s office as he looks around curiously. “To think someone could survive trapped in there for so long?”

Glyn shuffles through a book as the mayor looks at him. “Such cases aren’t unheard of. You can get food from slaying the monsters and Dungeons have their water sources, so it is possible.”

            “No, what of this Orc?”

            “He’s still here.” Glyn puts his book down. “Want to meet him?”

 

The pair leave Glyn’s office and move into the courtyard. There Zanrit sits meditating as he stares off into the distance. He takes in a deep breath and exhales before standing towering over Glyn and the mayor.

            “Comfortable Zanrit?” Glyn asks.

He nods. “Yes. While this manor is still under reconstruction, the efforts taken to restore the rooms are quite nice.”

            “I figured everyone’s going to want some comfort when they rest.”

            “And this is the Orc?”

Zanrit stares down at the mayor. “You are the leader of the village below?”

            “Yes. My family has watched over the village for generations. I take it from your tone you were looking forward to meeting me?”

Zanrit gets on his knees and bows, prostrating himself. “I humbly apologize for the problems my haste caused your island.”

            “All is well. No one was injured, and we got the best outcome. Although it was a little rough there.”

Glyn shrugs. “I already told him. But he insists on working this off because of honor or whatever.”

            “Yes. I will do what I can to make up for this mistake.” Zanrit lifts his head, showing the determination in his eyes.

            “Oh, you’ll be sticking around?”

            “Yes, to clear my other debt, I have agreed to help Glyn in his battles to come.”

The mayor turns to Glyn as he laughs. “Oh. Were our warriors not enough?”

            “Sadly no. They weren’t compatible with the pieces outside of the Pawn set. Thankfully, Zanrit here was compatible with the Knight piece.”

            “You’re running out of time, aren’t you?”

            “I am. But it’s what I have to deal with. Hopefully, I can stay out of everyone’s way and focus on my primary target.”

            “Oh, and who do you plan to go after?”

            “For now, no one. I still need a better map of the islands. But I can’t leave this island easily.” Glyn sighs before turning to the mayor. “Oh, and is that other thing ready?”

            “It will be soon. Be patient. Besides, shouldn’t you have your hands full with the Dungeon’s treasure?”

            “About that. I gave it to the Elf.”

            “Oh?”

            “She helped us and if it will help her get home, then it’s a fair trade. I’d rather she not be stuck here getting in our way or whatever.”

Zanrit stands. “Glyn is more kindhearted than he’d like to admit. He even gave me the choice before joining his side.”

Glyn blushes. “Well, I’d hate to force someone into a fight. If you’re going to follow me into battle, I’d like you to come with me willingly. Fewer chances of being stabbed in the back is all.”

            “Yes, yes.” The mayor says. “Oh, but where is it?”

            “What?”

            “The Dungeon’s Core.”

            “Oh that. Well….”

 

The three make their way into the basement of the manor where Glyn opens a hidden door where the torture room once stood. The blood stains and the torture equipment were removed and destroyed by the islanders as Glyn worked to empty and purify the location. Now it sits as an empty room, aside from the ominous red stone sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the room.

            “So that is the Core.” The mayor says.

Glyn nods. “Yeah. I figured this would be the best place to keep it. This room was the most fortified in the entire manor.”

            “I can sense ill things once happened here,” Zanrit says.

            “Yeah. But now it’s just a holding spot for the Core. From here I can use it to alter and edit the Dungeon as I see fit, even spawn monsters if I so chose.”

            “Ah, it would make for great training,” Zanrit says.

            “Yes. And with this, while we may have lost the original treasure, we can still get our hands on valuable items by clearing the Dungeon every so often, so it’s a win overall.”

The mayor nods. “So, what comes next?”

            “Next is training. We have to train more before we’re ready. If they come after us now, then we’ll be overpowered. On top of that, I still need to find others who can handle my remaining pieces.”

            “Sounds troublesome, doesn’t it?” The mayor asks.

            “Incredibly troublesome,” Zanrit says.

Glyn scratches the sides of his head. “I bet the others already have their entire team together. This entire game was broken from the start! A fair game, my ass!” Glyn yells out.

 

Elsewhere on the compound's training grounds, Miller trains with Sam as the two trade blows with practice swords. Next to them, Ivar watches with Rufus sitting next to him. Ivar tracks the pair while Rufus struggles to keep up with their battle.

            “Come on, you're saying you can track them?” Rufus asks.

Ivar nods. “Yes. You’ll need to practice the basics again if you can’t do a basic enhancement.”

Rufus sighs. “Damn it. How come I can’t do this?”

            “It just requires more training. Eventually, we’ll figure out what to do with you.” Otso says. “Maybe you can ask that Orc for some training.”

Ivar nods. “Yeah, if you ask him, I’m sure Zanrit will help you out. He looks threatening, but he’s nice.”

Rufus freezes. “I’ll consider it. He’s kind of intimidating.”

The pair shake their heads. “Come on.”

            “You’re doing well, Sam,” Miller says as Sam blocks his strike.

Sam smiles. “It’s nothing. I’m sure you’re just tired from being in the Dungeon.”

            “I felt sluggish from all the fighting in there. But it was an exhilarating experience.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yes. As soon as Glyn has it set up, we’re all going to go in for more training.” Miller says.

Sam smiles. “Oh really!?”

            “Yes, it’s a dangerous situation, even with some safety precautions taken. But I’m sure we can grow stronger if we go in there.”

Sam smiles, barely able to contain his excitement. “Being trapped in the Dungeon with you, Sir. I’m sure even the most torturous time would be enjoyable.”

Miller laughs. “Come now. It won’t be too bad; it will be dangerous though, so we’ll have to be careful.”

            “Of course, I’ll take the utmost precaution.”

            “Yeah, maybe next time you won’t be overpowered by a single Elf,” Ivar says.

            “Shut up. You wouldn’t have done any better against her!” Sam yells out.

Ivar shrugs. “Well, we won’t find out now, will we?”

            “She’s leaving, right? She’s a little too scary.” Rufus says.

            “Yes, she’s supposed to be leaving tonight. The girls are making sure she has enough supplies for her journey.” Miller says. “Although it’s a shame to lose the treasure. It wasn’t anything any of us could’ve made use of ourselves.”

            “Why is that?” Rufus asks.

            “Because none of us are mages. It was a magnificent staff. But without a mage capable of using the thing, it’s pretty worthless.” Miller grabs a cup of water and drinks. “It’s best that someone else take it.”

            “It’s a shame. According to Glyn, if we had a full fledge mage, then the damn thing would be a powerful weapon.” Ivar says.

            “I would’ve loved to see it,” Rufus says.

            “Never mind that for now.” Miller throws Rufus a practice sword. “It’s your turn. Come on.”

Rufus sighs. “Alright. Please don’t beat my ass too hard this time.”

            “Come on, we’ve talked about this. You’ve got to have a more positive attitude about training.”

            “You're right. Alright, Sir, I’m ready!” Rufus says, taking a stance.

Miller smiles and rushes forward, swinging his sword, only for it to hit the side of Rufus’s head. Rufus goes flying, smacking into the side of a wall as the others watch on.

            “Boss, tone it down a little more,” Ivar says.

            “Right. Sorry, Rufus.”

            “This is why I hate training,” Rufus says.