Viktor watched as the battle raged on.

  It was very one-sided, though. Sebekton spent most of the time evading the fiery phoenix and the teleporting spear, unable to retaliate in any meaningful way. He had cast aside his axe, as it was useless in a fight like this and only slowed him down. The pillars of stone in the arena had helped the Crocodilian a lot, allowing him to maneuver around them and use them as cover. But the stone could not shield him from all harm. Scorched by fire, wounded by steel, his hide now bore many grievous marks. This battle of attrition was less a fight than a slow execution.

  “Run, lizard, run!” Lahmia shouted as she hurled yet another fireball, which Sebekton dodged by ducking behind one of the stone blocks. But the firebird gave him no rest. It circled behind, forcing him once again into the open. “Is this all the dungeon has to offer? An oversized dimwit? It should have summoned a rat instead. At least it might have run better.”

  While Lahmia kept throwing insults at her opponent, Azran remained silent. He teleported from one spot to another, positioning himself before launching his spear at Sebekton whenever he had a clear line of sight.

  “Hey, why don’t you call your little friends to help, lizard?” Lahmia mocked. “What is the point of gathering here if they don’t want to fight? Are they too scared? Or did they come here just to watch you get roasted?”

  Viktor didn’t know the white-haired woman could act that way. When Lahmia was in Daelin, she was always charming and graceful. The men adored her, the women envied her. But now she was all teeth and venom, showing a completely different side of herself that thrived in combat and took pleasure in dominating her foes.

  “Don’t worry, girl,” Viktor said with a smirk. “The rest of my minions will join in the fray soon enough.” He turned to Celeste. “Is everything ready?”

  [Yes, Master.]

  Everything that had happened until now was but a ruse. To make the two intruders believe that they had the upper hand. Sebekton had sustained several injuries, yes, but nothing too serious yet. Now the real game was about to begin.

  “Do it!” Viktor gave out the command.

  The arena had been constructed by Celeste based on his design. The ceiling, the layer between the open space below and the hidden chamber above, had been riddled with many holes. They were covered previously, but the goblins stationed in the secret room had just removed the lids. They were now pouring a thick, viscous liquid into the arena through those openings.

  “What the hell?” Lahmia’s voice was sharp with confusion as her eyes darted between the many streams of yellowish-green liquid flowing down around her. “What is this? It’s not water.”

  Her question was met with a swift and fiery answer, as her phoenix collided with one of the streams, igniting a torrent of flames that swept across the floor like a ravenous beast.

  “Oil?” Lahmia’s eyes went wide with sudden understanding.

  Yes, oil. Viktor grinned. I don’t fight fire with water. I fight fire with more fire.

  For the past week, he had been busy. He spent a lot of effort procuring oil from the town and sneaking it into the dungeon. Thankfully, Daelin, located between the oil-producing South and the oil-consuming North, made his job a lot easier.

  The real olive oils were expensive, though, especially in the quantities he needed. Fortunately, they were not the only options available. Merchants, being merchants, always wanted to maximize their profits, so they diluted the premium olive oil from the South with cheaper oils before sending them North. As a result, there was also a large stockpile of cheap oils in Daelin, which he could easily purchase.

  Another problem he had faced was the need for discretion, as he knew that buying a large quantity of oil all at once could raise more than a few eyebrows. So he had to buy small amounts from different vendors on separate days, slowly accumulating what he needed. It took time. It took patience. And he was very proud of himself for getting it done before the two intruders showed up.

  [By the way, Master. Did you buy the oil with the gold from the dungeon?]

  “Of course not,” Viktor replied. “People would immediately ask questions about where I had gotten it from.”

  [Then how did you buy it? As I understand it, your family is not very well-off.]

  Cheap oils or not, they still cost money. But—

  Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle. “A certain someone gave me a silver coin just the other day.”

  Oh, the irony.

  Lahmia, so smug just minutes ago, now fought like a madwoman, trying to either snuff out the spreading inferno or redirect it toward Sebekton. But the flames danced higher and higher with every moment, fueled by the constant streams of oil from above. And even if she could keep them away from herself, the temperature in the room was rising rapidly. This was no longer a battle of skill, but one of endurance, a contest to see who would be cooked to death first.

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  The heat was bad enough, but there was something here even more dangerous—the smoke. Smoke was deadly. That creeping, choking black fog curled through the air, slipping into mouths, crawling down throats. That was the real killer. As long as the two Reavers remained in the room, sooner or later, they would succumb to the smoke. On the other hand, very conveniently, crocodiles excelled at holding their breath.

  And yet, even that was not the final act.

  “Now,” Viktor told his Dungeon Core. “The spiders.”

  Just like the ceilings, there were openings in the walls around the arena as well. Small holes, barely noticeable before, now gaping open like the dungeon itself had grown eyes. And through them, fifteen Dread Spiders shot their silk all over the room. They didn’t even need to aim; they simply spat those sticky strands in every direction. With his size and weight, Sebekton could shrug off the threads with ease, but for the intruders, a single hit could spell their doom.

  Lahmia’s firebird was gone. The white-haired pyromancer now had her hands full, frantically pushing back the flames, swatting at the strands, spinning and dodging and cursing under her breath. But the moment she looked away from her opponent, the Crocodilian lunged.

  Panicked, she turned and tried to run, but it was too late. Sebekton grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off the ground. The woman fought with the fury of one who saw death draw near, her hands clawing desperately at his arm, her feet kicking futilely against his chest. But it was all in vain. She screamed in horror as a jaw full of sharp teeth descended upon her face. In an instant, her pretty head vanished into the great maw. Her voice was instantly swallowed, muffled by the sound of crunching and slurping.

  The Crocodilian then turned his attention back to Azran, hand still gripping the headless corpse of his fallen opponent like some broken doll, but the Riftwalker was gone. His gaze snapped to the entrance, and he found the bald man was about to escape. With a grunt, the Guardian grabbed the axe from the ground and hurled it at the fleeing enemy, but the blade bit only into empty air. Azran had vanished again, disappearing into the shadows of the maze.

  [Should we pursue him, Master?]

  “Yes, send the goblins and spiders after him,” Viktor said. But he knew it was futile. The mage’s abilities made it impossible to catch him. Even in his weakened state, goblins and spiders were just not enough to finish him off. “And call Sebekton back here.”

  [Understood, Master.]

  A few minutes later, the door opened, and a blast of thick smoke poured into the chamber, followed by the oppressive heat from the next room. Sebekton quickly slammed it shut before walking toward Viktor. Then, the Crocodilian threw the headless body at his feet. “Master, I present to you my first victory.”

  Viktor nodded. “Good work.”

  He looked down at Lahmia’s remains. Just over a week ago, this white-haired, dark-skinned woman was walking beside him through the town, talking and laughing, but now, she had been reduced to this state.

  But he quickly turned back to his Guardian, examining the wounds and burns that marred his body.

  “I’m sorry you had to endure this,” he said.

  “What are you talking about, Master?” The Crocodilian guffawed. “If it weren’t for your strategy, I definitely wouldn’t have survived this battle. I should have thanked you.”

  “I’ll start bringing books to you from tomorrow,” Viktor said with a smile.

  “Thank you, Master,” Sebekton replied, bowing respectfully. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a nap.”

  Viktor chuckled. “Try not to drool on my floor.”

  The Crocodilian lurched to a corner. He folded himself down, hands clasped over his gut, and let out a groan as he closed his eyes. Moments later, Viktor began to hear the sound of snoring.

  While the dungeon provided mana to sustain all of his monsters, removing the need for eating and sleeping, they still appreciated these comforts. And Sebekton deserved a good rest after such a grueling battle.

  Viktor turned to Celeste. “How goes the pursuit?”

  [Azran has escaped, and we have suffered some casualties.]

  That was what he had expected. Now, someone who knew of the dungeon’s existence had managed to get out alive to tell the tale.

  “Give me the battle report.”

  [Understood, Master.]

  Gold-ranked adventurers indeed lived up to their reputation. Lahmia’s soul alone yielded more essence than Jake’s entire party. And Azran, even while fleeing, had inflicted significant damage on his forces.

  [I wonder if that man will expose our dungeon to the Guild.]

  “He won’t,” Viktor said, shaking his head.

  Azran came here with Lahmia to steal the dungeon from the locals, so there was no reason for him to let them know now. However, he would certainly retreat to his base, lick his wounds, and call for reinforcements. More Reavers would come, and the next time, they would be far better prepared.

  That would be bad. Unless—

  “We’ll do it first,” Viktor said. “We’ll reveal the dungeon to the world ourselves.”

  The Reavers aimed to steal the Dungeon Core before the local Guild was aware of the dungeon’s existence. So if everyone had already known and there was a stream of regular adventurers coming and going, that would serve as a deterrent.

  His original plan had been to keep the dungeon a secret while snatching unsuspecting adventurers, one party at a time. But now that plan had to change.

  [How will we proceed, Master?]

  “Simple,” Viktor replied. “I’ll lure a party here, just like I did before. But this time, no one dies. Instead, they’re going to have a very pleasant experience, and at the end of their journey, they’ll find a chest full of gold to bring back to the town. Before you know it, this place will be crawling with adventurers.”

  [Understood.]

  With everything concluded, Viktor figured it was time to go home. There was a raging inferno behind that door, though, and he wasn’t keen on walking through it. Best to ask the Dungeon Core to teleport him out.

  Before leaving, he cast one last glance at the headless corpse sprawled on the floor. “Celeste,” he said. “Get the goblins to remove all of her belongings. I’ll examine the items later. Then...” He paused for a second. “Throw the body into the disposal pit.”