Frank had run the dungeon countless times since he had become an adult in the Ashmore branch. He was familiar with all the creatures, but when he saw the hole in the ground, he felt as nervous as he had the first time he was allowed into the dungeon. He watched Knight Johnson, Alicia’s father’s right hand and head knight, go down into the tunnel, followed by the wilder. He tried to smile reassuringly at Alicia, who he knew was just as afraid as he was. Caves were the natural enemy and a symbol for death among fire affinity users.

  They were damp, had poor airflow, and were often cold. All these combined together to diminish any fire affinity in the area. When they made the plan, it seemed solid. They would finish the dungeon like they always did, then the wilder would use his insider knowledge to guide them through the new boss area. He had even taken several contingency items on his person, but it is different delving into its yawning maw.

  Feeling the cold humidity as he dipped into the darkness made him feel vulnerable. He had grown to rely on his cousin; she was politically adept in a way he was not, and he had a skill for fighting that had saved her on more than one occasion. They leaned on each other as kids, and now that they were deep in political waters, they had each other’s backs again.

  In this moment, all his self-assurance started to crumble. His fears began to manifest. He was not sure he could fight his way out, and there was talk of marrying Alicia off. This was part of why the dungeon run was so important; they needed to prove themselves as valuable. If they could be the first to conquer the new boss, they would come back as heroes, but if they didn’t, their family might think it was time they took on other roles to support the family’s growth. Part of him fears for the day she might be married off. It was not as though he did not want her to get married, but he feared the consequences, considering her limited options.

  Yes, he would miss her, and he wanted both himself and her to have families, but every year the Heartbrans grew shrewder as their options grew fewer. He had no doubt they would have made moves against their branch, despite their distant relation, if it were not for their power and numbers. If she is married to a Sandridge, he didn’t like to dwell on what that would mean. Part of them thought the new wilder could be a good match for her. She would stay close to home, where she is safe, and he did not seem like such a bad guy.

  He isn’t as politically fluent as others, but it would keep Alicia safe and would provide another house to come to the aid of the family. His time in the Heartbran estate made him constantly think of how he could work to aid his family through training, marriage, and, on rare occasions, he considered exile. He was much better with a weapon in hand and an enemy across from him than with the political intrigue of the estate. Fortunately, while he floundered in the murky waters, Alicia navigated them smoothly.

  For the first time in his life, he no longer felt confident in his own prowess. This cave was a death sentence, and they hadn’t even seen the boss yet. He was confident that Knight Johnson would save them; he was one of the contingencies that Frank was relying on. The knight was a skilled warrior who had enough aura to carry a small armory of artifacts.

  The man was too much of a warrior to fall easily to any foe, but Frank was no longer the kid who saw the knight as the invulnerable warrior. He knew knight Johnson had his limits; for all his strength, he was not a mage and would pay dearly if they needed to rely on him to escape the dungeon.

  As his fears built, reports of the missing Sandridge house members played in his head, and he wondered for a moment if they would be next.

  With fear and trepidation, he watched the wilder walk out into the underground lake as a flower emerged from its center. They had not seen the wilder’s abilities aside from some light healing. Now he is second-guessing himself and wondering if he should have asked for more demonstrations. He had confirmed reports that the man exited the dungeon alone, but who is to say he defeated the final boss?

  He could have also defeated the final boss by sacrificing his teammates. When he saw the boss, he thought it looked fearsome, and while more martially skilled than the tree Ent, his mind whirled as he contemplated different tactics he would use to take it on. If he could post torches around the area, he could maybe attack it from behind-

  “Burn the roots, I will take care of the boss.” The wilder’s voice echoed across the cave with confidence. He looked up and cursed under his breath as he saw wriggling roots just above them. He berated himself for being distracted.

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  He lit a torch in his left hand to help generate some fire mana and pull on it as a catalyst. The flame on his torch extended until it was a pillar before it engulfed the ceiling in a canopy of fire. It was too much for him alone; the mana cost to burn all the roots would drain him before he could finish the task.

  His cousin Alicia joined his attack with practiced ease. With both of their power, the roots began to rain down as they shriveled. Toward the end of the attack, he felt his mana start to bottom out. He stretched the little fire mana from the torch to try to finish his job.

  When they were done with the fiery assault, they looked down to see the wider fighting in the flickering shadows of the torchlight with the boss. Frank saw a dark shape moving just below the surface of the water. He wanted to join in, but instead held back and drained one of his mana potions.

  He wouldn’t be able to sustain his magic for long, so he would need to look for an opening to attack. He waited and watched as the wilder dodged, weaved, attacked, and tricked the boss. He had known the wilder is a healer archetype and a commander archetype, so it is surprising to see him holding his own in a one-on-one fight. Both of those fighting tactics relied on groups of warriors to overcome enemies.

  When he heard the summary that the wilder had given the boss before, he was not sure what to make of it. He had thought the wilder was lying some to make his story more grandiose, or it was a desperate thing. Frank had hoped to capitalize on whatever the wilder did to fight the boss, but seeing him in action now, he wasn’t just fighting the boss; he was winning handily.

  Every exchange ended with the wilder scoring a clean hit, and if the boss did the same attack more than a few times, the wilder would punish his adversary by scoring a critical hit. With the torches, Frank’s vision was poor, but he could see the outlines of the two fighting and felt the screams of the boss as it shook the room in pain. He realized they needed their dark vision more. Without seeing, they would be helpless if the boss targeted them for one of its diving attacks.

  He doused his torch, and his cousin almost asked him incredulously, “What are you doing?”

  “The mushrooms are translucent, douse the torch, and it will be easier to see.” He responds.

  “What if we need the fire mana?” She asks, and he can hear a slight tremble in her voice. He swallows to make sure his own voice does not shake.

  “We will need to light new torches, but right now we need to see to be able to dodge. If we cannot see, then it will not matter whether we have mana or not.”

  She looked uncertain as she doused her torch, but his affinity for combat, proven over the years, is enough to convince her.

  Once the flames were out, they blinked a few times before they saw the outline of the boss resolve, and it moved to tower in the air. He stared, his jaw open, and whispered, “He is fighting that thing?”

  Beside him, Knight Johnson scoffs. “Fight is not what I would call it. He has some skills and is well-suited to this contest. I, myself, might be a bloody pulp a few times over fighting this thing, but everything he does is poorly executed. His footwork is poor, and I see him take a few swings with conjured blades. When he did it was to be blunt, some of the worst technique I have ever seen.”

  Frank knew Knight Johnson had a considerable aura despite his low affinities and was able to wield several artifacts, one of which was a helmet that gave him better sight in any condition. So, while they struggled to see in the dark, he was sure that Knight Johnson could see in the cavern as clearly as daylight.

  “You make it sound like it would be easy to fight him,” Frank says.

  The knight scoffed at the statement. “Not a chance. His diversity of skills and ability to wield different archetypes make him a monster. In an underground cavern filled with his affinity specialty, I would be a fool to fight him. All I am saying is it is all rough, with a little bit of training, he would be an absolute terror.”

  Frank watches the fight with awe, seeing the wilder dodge what he thought were unblockable blows, only to reveal the dodge was a faint and that feint had a follow-up attack. Frank enjoyed the straightforward nature of fire and his attacks, but fire had little in the way of defense, and a protector archetype, who focused on traps, is terrifying against his skillset. This boss’s fight only highlights how terrifying fighting one could be.

  “I don’t want to say you are wrong, but most of his attacks look like they are either ranged or traps,” Frank replied.

  “Only because the boss doesn’t give him enough time. Look at the way he dodges and strikes. If he were a sword master, he would be able to cleave through the stalk in only a few strikes. If he were a true trap weaver, he would have impaled the giant on the first attack. If he were an evoker, he would have waved his hand and sliced the boss apart in moments. If he were a true commander, he would have orchestrated a-”

  His words were cut off as a shadowy form appeared from behind the boss. The boss gave a cry of pain. They saw its head tumble from its shoulders before Morgana hopped down.

  “He would be able to do that a dozen times over.” He said, finishing his sentence.

  “So, you think he is a threat?” Despite his stoic demeanor to most, the knight’s powerful insights make him a powerful asset, only matched by his unwavering loyalty to the Ashmores. He is probably one of the most talented in martial skills on the estate, but that is not why he stood as the right hand to the head of the subbranch.

  “Of course, he is a threat. All magi are, but what I am also saying is he has potential. If you were to give him the tools to hone that potential, he would be a powerful friend and a devastating enemy.”

  They watched him in awe as he finished the boss, and it slid into the ground.