Respawning was boring as shit.

Aseri had been through the process, oh, about a hundred million times, but like most monsters, she only remembered the last few. Each of her infinite lives faded the more time ticked by, and past the third, she remembered a smattering of events—past the tenth, not a thing at all. Even her most recent she barely remembered, now that she’d made that discomfiting trip through the sea of souls, but that was likely because it hadn’t been anything special. Not much stuck out.

At least I wasn’t demoted. A poor performance—as Aseri’s last life had been—could have meant her status as a Named would’ve been taken from her. Then she could have been demoted, and been stuck toiling away as a worker bee, a grunt, earning up her cosmic karma until the universe decided to deign her with a second chance. Or millionth chance; infinite lives and all.

I could do without the waiting, Aseri sighed, the back of her head impacting the cold stone of the tiny pocket she’d respawned into. Somewhere out there, a dungeon was digging through the earth, burrowing towards points of interest. Aseri, being one. At least this means I’ll be its first Named. Her last couple of lives, she’d come out of the spawning pools.

Just not another underwater core, please. The type of dungeon a monster got roped into decided a lot about their quality of life. And Aseri’s last? Well, she hadn’t had fun. Why did that core like water so much? She’d had to swim just to get to the mess hall. Avatars could only corral their core so much, but Aseri blamed that dumbass Chanolu as much as she did the core. No wonder we lasted all of a few weeks. 

What a waste of a life. 

What a waste of a Name.

We’ll get something done this time, Aseri promised herself. Even if I have to drag an idiotic Avatar by the ear to make it happen.

It was all talk, and Aseri knew it. A regular Named had about as much of a chance defeating an Avatar as a grunt did a Named, so Aseri forcing one to do anything was an impossibility. Named made floor bosses, but Avatars made dungeon bosses. The last line of defense for the core itself; some didn’t even reveal themselves, and instead posed their strongest Named as their final boss. Because if the Avatar went down, then the core would be unprotected. It was prudent to hide themself as a last line of defense. No need to fight on the front lines, risk total destruction.

Yet so many did, anyway.

Avatars. As a whole, idiots to the man.

She wasn’t sure what inscrutable criteria the gods decided Avatars by, but she’d sure as hell like to know. General assholery? Complete inability to run a simple operation? Maybe it was easier looking from the outside in, but Aseri would eat her shoe if she couldn’t do a better job than that idiot Chanolu had.

Oh my gods, she thought, Hurry up. How long would she be waiting in this dark pocket of stone? She might not be a grunt, but she’d rather be digging tunnels, expanding a dungeon than sitting around and doing nothing. She hated idleness. Most monsters did. 

Another bad performance meant back to the dregs with her. With a mind that barely understood basic commands, and was forced to work day in, day out building the dungeon. She hated idleness, but that didn’t mean she liked busy work. At least, the endless amount grunts received.

Aseri didn’t know how many lives she’d been Named in a row, but a lot—back as far as she could remember. She’d been on a bad streak recently; that was the only reason she was on the verge of losing it. Or so she suspected. No way of telling for sure.

Fucking Chanolu. 

An object broke through the wall next to her, and Aseri froze.

Shit. Already? For all her complaining, that’d been fast.

She crept sideways against the wall, keeping in the invader’s blind spot. While her fate was more or less inevitable—whoever had found her would be claiming her, and she had little say in the matter, unless she wanted to be killed and sent along to her next life—it was instinctual to keep in the shadows. For as many lives as she could remember, she’d had stealth-based classes. 

The hole expanded to half the size of a person—is that a shovel? Well, this one’s not a complete, utter blithering idiot, like some—then stopped. Aseri waited, confused, gripping her knife. 

Why’d they stop? 

It continued a minute later, but Aseri was still confused. Did they sense me? She couldn’t see how.

Finally, the clatter of a shovel being set aside, and the scraping of some other tool. Made a weapon. Good. Another low bar cleared. Some Avatars had animal intelligence, couldn’t even speak, much less plan or make wise decisions. Aseri was happy to see this wasn’t one such case. Though smart? Making a shovel and weapon wasn’t smart. It simply cleared the lowest possible bar. 

The figure stepped in, and Aseri’s eyes widened in shock.

A demon, she thought, brain stalling. Holy shit, a demon. 

Even if this man was dumb as the rock he was digging through, Aseri was set. There weren’t many monsters as individually powerful as demons, and better yet, their crazy potential didn’t come with an intelligence knock-off, like most enormously strong monster races. Her future was, very abruptly, looking bright.

Aseri almost stepped forward and called out—because again, she didn’t have much choice in who found her, and this was a better outcome than she could have hoped for—but then she paused.

Why not test him out? Dungeon start-ups could be boring, so this might be the only excitement she got for a while. 

And she wanted to impress him. She wasn’t generally a suck-up, but for a demon? If it meant she could be his second in command, have some small say in steering him away from all the stupid shit he’d undoubtedly try—he was an Avatar—then she was willing to suck up.

Maybe a bit more than suck up, she thought, eyes going up and down the demon’s towering frame. He had shoulders that went on and on—a damn triangle. And those horns. You know what they say about a demon with long horns. Her eyes flicked to his white shorts—the spawning default of any dungeon humanoid—and saw the adage held true. Her heart rate picked up, before she tore her eyes away.

He hadn’t noticed Aseri, even as he stepped in and inspected the hollow pocket she’d spawned in. Aseri had slipped behind him, keeping in his blind spot. He’s a bit oblivious. That’s not ideal. She could only hope for so much.

She didn’t have a chance of winning, but as a stealth class with a dagger, and an upcoming backstab—well, she could prove her value. 

She lifted her weapon and stalked forward.

Not a whisper of noise as she closed the gap.

Then she struck.