Once again, Dragon’s plans didn’t go as expected. Ah, I need better informants…those conniving porters from Pargol’s. That’s the problem with contract spies, they work for everyone.

For what he paid them, Dragon should have been privy to every dirty secret in the entire realm. Those secrets cost him a fortune, a price that kept his assembly line running nonstop. Heck, that enormous expense was even the reason his territory growth had stunted, despite his recruitment efforts. Albeit, a worthy expense.

Oh yes, he planned on writing a very strongly worded letter to the porter agency. What he saw was unacceptable.

For some inexplicable reason, two gaudily dressed bunsacks were staking out his camp of plants from several klicks away. The part that baffled Dragon was the pair’s choice of coverings. They hid behind some bizarre portable canopy.

Dragon crossed his claws and watched them from the entryway to his den.

From this spot, the intruders looked like a yellow and blue striped boulder sitting right smack in the middle of his otherwise unobscured desert. He gave the pair the benefit of the doubt at first, thinking perhaps they were wayward travelers, lost and seeking shelter.

If they were reasonable, Dragon would happily offer shelter for a fair price, but alas, no that was not the case.

Sometimes the brightly striped boulder would zig left and and other times it would zag right. It took a while for Dragon to realize the boulder was creeping closer and closer.

There was no doubt in his mind the gaudy pair were spies. They’d been fortunate enough to not have been spotted by his moronic beasts, having stayed just outside the beasts’ range of vision by both caution and divine intervention. There were no other explanations for that kind of luck.

And the pair were rightfully wary of his beasts.

Dragon strummed his claws. It might be time to send my beasts away for a bit. They won’t be happy, but I’ll make it up to them later…that is, if my guests are not the reasonable sort.

Most of all, Dragon was intrigued as to how the duo managed their spy-craft, such unusual methods. His discerning eyes told him there was more to the story, and that intrigued him. Although, simple reasoning told him there was not much more to the story. Typically, spy-craft assumed one would not want to be noticed, and that pair were as gaudy as they came.

Those two are clearly not porters. Pargol’s doesn’t hire imbeciles.

Hmm…if only Oenus was more reasonable. With his skill set, he’d be the ideal spy. Ahh, that’s life. I’ll make do with those two. I do hope they are the reasonable sort. I’m quite curious of their goals.

He chuckled and sauntered into his camp of plants. Domagon should be here. He’s just intelligent enough for this task, that is, he better be if he ever wants his procreative abilities back. Indeed, brawns are well suited to herding cattle.

**************************

“Gone,” Timmy said.

All the demons just up and left out of the blue?

Jimmy licked his parched lips and peeked out from the side of their striped umbrella. These demons are extremely intelligent. This is likely a trap. Did I make a mistake? Did they see us?

No, Level 10 Stealth is no joke. Saved my ass more times than I can count back in Valrere. Still—

“I don’t trust it,” Jimmy said, as flatly as he could manage.

Don’t trust it? Ha! This is practically screaming ‘get the fuck outa here!’

Breath. Breath. Breath. Happy thoughts…mmm…there it is. Motorboats and mullets. Think motorboats and mullets and get the fuck out of here.

Jimmy massaged his legs, trying to urge them to move. Coming out here was a bad idea. He was a cocky idiot and now in way over his head.

“How far away do you think we are?” Jimmy asked.

Timmy squinted. “Ten miles.”

Okay. Between that and Goti’s Umbrella, we’re golden. Motorboats and mullets. Motorboats and mullets.

“I’m going to walk backwards and hold the umbrella up,” Jimmy said. “It won’t be perfect Stealth, but it’s something. You be our guide up front. Stay low, damn near crawl, understood?”

Timmy gave a quick nod and took position.

He puts way too much faith in me. There was no time to lament his brother’s misplaced trust. Jimmy held the umbrella in one hand, and the scuff of Timmy’s armor in the other, slowly walking backwards…

walking backwards…

walking backwards…

Ooof. Don’t stop. What the fuck, Timmy?

“Run,” Timmy said.

“Do what?”

“Run. Run to cliff. Monster. Demon Lord is behind us. Run. Run. Run.”

“What!? No, no…we can outrun it.”

“No! Fast! Very fast. Run to cliff.”

The cliff? That’s the Demon Lord’s lair? Why would…?

Oh. He isn’t home. We can lose him in the dungeon. Right!

Forgetting to even close up the umbrella, Jimmy took off running, dragging his brother right behind. Too scared to let go of the giant wind drag, he sprinted towards the cliff.

They ran and ran, coaxing every ounce out of their buffed up stats.

Their feet left imprints in the rock and kicked up dust just like the Wile E Coyote.

They sprinted straight through the demon's deserted settlement, whizzing past the greenish huts.

Right when it was too late to back out, did Jimmy realize the very real possibility of an ambush. Fuck! I’m an idiot! Why didn’t I run around it?

These narrow streets and alleys would be a perfect kill-zone.

They weaved through the twisted streets. Can we hide in a hut? No, Run dammit! Don't box yourself in, moron.

He gripped his brother’s shirt tighter as they fled the settlement and the duo practically leaped into the cave. Safe! Wait? Isn’t this supposed to be a classic dungeon? Where’s the system message?

Down through the cave, dim neon vines strung from the walls like Christmas lights. They illuminated a long, barren passageway straight through. This isn’t right! It should be a maze or something…

Swallowing hard, Jimmy slowed their pace to a quick jog, praying loaded spikes or flame traps wouldn’t spring from the walls. His brain was still reeling. Fight or flight. Fight or flight.

Flight. Without a doubt. Oh shit, forgot to close the umbrella.

They jogged down through the cave without incident, at least until a fork appeared. One path was illuminated with the neon vines, the other, pitch black.

Choose quick! Come on, think…

Was it a trap? It had to be. I was a cocky idiot. Valrere was too easy, way too easy. This is something else.

If it’s a trap, doesn’t that mean they want to lure me down the passage with the glowing vines? Or is it a double bluff and they know we won’t pick the obvious route and head down the dark one? Maybe there’s no bluff at all…the ultimate deception.

Lumbering steps thundered down the hall, the Demon Lord was closing in, and Jimmy chose. He picked the dark route.

Unsure whether it was safer for his brother to be in front or back, Jimmy dragged him along shoulder to shoulder, gliding his hand along the wall in place of eyesight as the duo tripped and stuttered through.

It seemed they made the correct decision. The thundering steps echoed further and further away, hopefully down the other path.

A dim light shone ahead.

It seemed there was a cavern, one slightly offset like a side passage, and they had no choice but to stumble towards it.

Right then, Jimmy realized the two of them should have already been killed ten times over. They could only pray this was no accident, that the Demon Lord wanted them alive for some inexplicable reason. Although, it was more likely the pair were being toyed with, the Demon Lord chasing them, a cat, batting around a helpless mouse.

Carefully, he entered the dimly lit cavern. Despite the subtle glow, it took Jimmy’s eyes a brief moment to adjust to the change from sheer blackness.

As his surroundings become clear, Jimmy saw two humans, a stunningly beautiful woman and a gangly red haired kid curled up on her legs. He breathed a sigh of relief. Oh my god. I couldn’t think. That was all too much. Valrere was too easy, way too easy.

Just as he opened his mouth to say a greeting, the words hung in his throat. This scene, he should have known better…

The kid didn’t have red hair. Underneath the red, he noticed strands of white. The kid had white hair, white hair completely plastered down with caked blood.

That wasn’t the worst of it.

That stunning woman, a true demoness, looked right through him with pitch black eyes, clearly relishing in the torture of her prey, all three of them now that Jimmy and his brother entered her trap. She hummed an eerie hymn, already waving her hands around to cast some kind of curse.

It was certain she’d been keeping her previous hostage alive on purpose, likely just to preserve that poor boy’s meat, enjoying morsels here and there and patching up the damage as she snacked.

The boy’s leg was proof of that.

From the knee down, only a yellowish twig remained. The demoness had picked every last scrap of meat off the poor boy’s bone. Only a yellowish bone-stump remained, protruding like the kind of peg leg a pirate would wear.

But that wasn’t Jimmy’s trigger.

What he could only describe as a long, slinking centipede danced at the demoness’ side.

It was a tail. She had a friggin’ centipede for a tail.

Sensing a meal, the centipede tail twisted to face the brothers, stalling Jimmy’s heart for a beat. He only got two words out, praying his brother was a stronger man than he was.

“Timmy, shoot.”