Two axes came swinging down at the wide-eyed rogue. From across the room, Zariel was too far to intercede. Leaih ran towards the warrior, but there was nothing she could do either.

  A simple staff prevented the sharpened axe blades from cutting through the rogue’s skull. ForNot pressed down with all her might. Her muscles flexed and her expression strained as she sought to slay the rogue where he stood.

  “An eagle does not answer to serpents.”

  The chanter, Marcatan, spoke calmly, his eyes lingering on the empty space between the two. He used his body as leverage, resting his staff against his arm and running under his thigh. The light robes he wore hid his musculature, but Zariel could sense he was far stronger than he looked.

  ForNot glared at him, but Marcatan seemed unbothered.

  “Serpents can bite.”

  The rogue’s words cut through the silence that had filled the room. His eyes glanced downwards, pointing to the venom-tipped dagger hovering over ForNot’s thigh. They would have both killed each other.

  “Enough.”

  Zariel strode forward, stopping just before the three and looming over them. His mere presence, coupled with the ringing of the shackles that covered his sword and shield, demanded the room’s attention.

  He turned to Leaih who was slowly backing away.

  “You summoned us here, and for that I am thankful. One of you must know.” he said.

  Zariel’s scanned the room, his eyes lingering on each of them. “Tell me about that boss. What do you know of it?”

  Silence.

  “My raid team was robbed of our achievement. Zantor was but a sword stroke away from falling when I was taken. Why?”

  The eight of them looked at one another. Eyes searched for answers in the faces of others. No one spoke, but each of them was plagued by their own thoughts and misgivings.

  “SPEAK!” Zariel boomed, his voice reaching every room in the mansion.

  Leaih jumped.

  “I-I don’t know…” she said. “That’s why I—”

  “Your raid team was robbed?”

  ForNot held her axes at her side—a reminder that she could unleash them at any time.

  “My glory was stolen from me!” the warrior roared. “I dragged the corpses of those seven idiots all the way to Zantor’s chamber and slayed him myself! That wall should have my name and mine alone!”

  Despite her bravado, what she was intrigued the paladin. From her testimony, he was not the only one to have slain the demon.

  “Let’s not get carried away, I shot those two horns off—BAM—BAM!”

  Evo drew her rifle and recreated the scene with enthusiastic sound effects.

  Leaih’s eyes widened when she thought the gunner was going to shoot through her ceiling, but she quickly relaxed once the gunner put her rifle down.

  “And then…”

  Evo pointed her rifle towards ForNot. Leaih almost fainted.

  “BOOM!”

  The gunner recoiled, crashing into a satin couch as her rifle fell atop her lap.

  “Right through the heart,” she said with a smirk.

  “It’s just as I thought…” Leaih said under her breath but loud enough for others to hear.

  They turned to her.

  “We all defeated Zantor.”

  Everyone in the room nodded.

  “One of us had to have done it first,” Zariel countered. “The eight of us did not slay Zantor together.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “No,” Eclipse the warlock agreed, joining the conversation. “But we did face that other boss together.”

  ForNot huffed, glaring at the rogue.

  “Seven of us did,” she corrected. “You ran away.”

  The rogue shrugged. “I came back when it mattered.”

  “So, the true boss of Zantori Citadel was that other thing we faced?” Zariel asked.

  The warlock thought briefly and shook his head.

  “Doubtful. Too many discrepancies. The sudden change. Immune boss. Different arena—”

  The warlock continued listing everything he felt was odd. It seemed he could have gone the rest of the day had he not been interrupted.

  “Consider that in this room are eight lions, leaders of their prides,” the chanter said. “Coincidence?”

  “How poetic,” Arctic the Bard commented, nervously fiddling with the strings of her harplin. “Anyone care to translate?”

  “He means that we were the leaders of our respective raid teams. The best,” Zariel answered.

  Zariel may not have been as creative as the bard or as knowledgeable as the warlock, but he was quickly beginning to form his own theory.

  “If we all defeated Zantor at the same time. Then perhaps that is why our names are on the wall?”

  “Makes sense to me.” Evo said. “There can only be eight names on there. You get the best eight and slap ‘em on the Spire’s wall. Sucks for our teams but it is what it is.”

  “Possible. Not plausible.”

  The gunner frowned and glanced at the warlock.

  “You’re no fun at parties are you?” she said. “Always shooting ideas down.”

  Leaih let out a soft giggle before turning serious. “Please continue, Eclipse.”

  “It is improbable that eight separate raid teams slayed the demon at the same exact moment,” he said. “But at the same time, the boss the eight of us faced together was not part of Zantori Citadel…”

  His voice trailed off, as if he had something more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.

  “Go on,” Zariel urged.

  “I cannot,” Eclipse said.

  “Why?”

  The warlock looked down at the orb levitating in his palm.

  “There is no logical conclusion.”

  “Now I know you’re not fun anywhere,” Evo groaned, tossing her hands up in defeat.

  It was then that the warrior began making her way to the door.

  “Where are you going, ForNot?” Leaih asked.

  “To find my own ‘conclusion,” she replied bluntly.

  This piqued the warlock’s interest.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The facts are obvious,” the warrior said, standing at the door. “We all faced that light and dark creature and survived, right?”

  Eclipse nodded.

  “Well, I didn’t get any loot from it, and it doesn’t seem like any of you did either,” ForNot explained. “That means it’s still alive, and I want some new axes.”

  “B-but we don’t know what it is! Where it is!” Leaih said, leaping up from her chair and blocking the door. “Even if you do find it, it’s stronger than anything else I’ve ever seen. It was going to kill us—obliterate us from the face of Atrea! No one can beat that, not even you—"

  ForNot grabbed the cleric’s shoulders and moved her out of the way.

  Firm, but gently.

  “I know what it is. It’s my target. Where it might be? I’ll just retrace my steps until I find it.”

  The warrior glared at the rogue.

  “No one is stronger than me,” she said, pointing her words directly at him.

  It was a warning, one that S deflected by choosing to admire his daggers.

  “You’re going back to Zantori Citadel?” Zariel asked.

  “That’s right, paladin,” ForNot replied. “I’ll find seven warm bodies and carry them to Zantor just like last time.”

  “I’ll go with you!’ Leaih said.

  She had stealthily snuck back in front of the door, much to ForNot’s annoyance.

  “Interesting,” Evo remarked. “It’s not like you need the gold, judging from the look of this place.”

  Leaih’s face turned red like the cherry blossoms outside her mansion.

  “G-groups pay me well to heal them through the lower-level raids,” she stammered. “But this isn’t about gold or loot…”

  “I’ll say it isn’t—”

  Evo rose to her feet and raised her rifle over her shoulder.

  “Ever since I reached 600, I’ve been wanting a real challenge. Count me in.”

  Zariel stood in silence as the warlock joined the expedition, followed by the bard and chanter. He had come to the mansion to get answers and exact retribution on whoever had stolen his team’s triumph. But instead, he found himself in the midst of a new team’s formation.

  “What about you?” Leaih asked. “Hey!”

  She placed her hands on her hips as she watched the rogue dig through some of her drawers.

  “I keep all my gold in the bank, S,” she said.

  “Ah,” S huffed, slamming the drawer shut. “Haven’t gotten around to robbing it yet. Been busy with raiding.”

  Leaih frowned.

  “I’ll make sure to withdraw my funds before you stop by then,” she said. “Are you joining—”

  He climbed over the railing and leapt down from the balcony.

  “Why not? Things have been rather boring lately. Arena opponents are too soft. Raids are too easy…”

  And suddenly, all eyes fell on Zariel.

  Leaih’s mouth opened.

  “I have a raid team,” he said, answering her question before she even asked it.

  “We don’t need him, I can tank the hordes of demons myself,” ForNot said.

  Leaih shook her head.

  “We need to be at full strength. Besides, it was the eight of us for a reason,” she said. “If we leave someone behind, we might miss something.”

  Zariel’s expression hardened.

  “I only raid with my guild,” he said.

  “I’ll pay you a million gold,” Leaih offered.

  The paladin’s face turned to stone.

  “Two million.”

  “I care not for wealth,” he replied.

  “I’ll become a paladin for two million,” Evo said with a grin, earning visible disapproval from both Leaih and Zariel.

  The cleric took a step towards him.

  “Zariel, just one raid of Zantori—”

  Everyone looked towards the window.

  Arctic opened the window, and a dark praran rushed inside.

  She circled the room at blazing speeds before ultimately spiraling around the cleric.

  “Leaih! Horrible news from Revenshein!”

  Arctic’s harplin fell on to the ground.

  “W-what is it, Sanita?” Leaih asked.

  “O-outside…” the bard croaked.

  Thunder boomed.

  Arctic reached for her harplin and plucked imaginary strings as if it was still in her hand.

  “Hmmph.”

  The warrior swung the door open and marched outside.

  Zariel and the rest followed while Arctic stayed by the windowsill.

  “That can’t be good,” S said.

  Evo hit Eclipse with the butt of her rifle.

  “He warlock, you’re the smart one,” she began. “Why is the sky on fire?”

  Eclipse frowned.

  “No idea.”