This is what happened. They spent the next while going back over their tracks, seeking weapons for Lita. They determined that two weapons, tomahawks ideally, would fit Lita’s spinning top attack the best, creating a buzzsaw of cutting stone blades. Lita elected to leave the sigils he’d been carrying, and had somehow retained after being smashed by King Kobold, on the floor near the door. His hands were strange devices and while they could firmly hold an item, there was no room for both an axe and sigils.

  Cutter ate a few more mushrooms, gaining his strength back, and honestly, just enjoying the incredible little morsels. The mushrooms grew in recessed troughs at the edges of several of the rooms. He knew mushrooms could grow in the dark, but he also knew they needed organic material to grow on. The system of tunnels seemed to be a closed loop; it made no sense that the kobolds could sustain themselves indefinitely here without access to sunlight or incoming matter. Regardless, that was an issue for another time. He had more pressing concerns to apply his attention to.

  When they were ready they approached the door again, as quietly as possible.

  Cutter whispered, “If things go south again, we can just get out, chow down on mushrooms and come up with some new strats. No need to be a hero.”

  Lita hissed back, “You’re the hero, dude. I’m the tutorial.” He said it with a strange kind of pride, excitement welling.

  Cutter just looked at him then nodded.

  They slipped through the door.

  King Kobold was not sleeping this time. He sat on his throne, watching them enter. He didn’t yet move, just watched. Cutter and Lita moved towards the centre of the room. They wanted to keep the fight in open space. The last thing they needed was for the bulk of their enemy to pin them against a wall and restrict their ability to maneuver.

  A terrible deep chuckle gurgled in King Kobold’s throat. “Huh huh huh…”

  He rose, heaving himself up from his seat, a huge clawed hand sweeping to scoop his club from where it rested against the throne.

  “Huh huh uh! You give him weapons?” the creature said, pointing with the club. “Why for? Help not!”

  King Kobold’s words came out with ponderous slowness, as though language was something he barely grasped.

  Cutter didn’t answer. He circled left, Lita to the right, inviting the monster to come to them, giving it no choice but to be encircled.

  King Kobold just shrugged, and plodded forward. Then, with sudden speed, he lunged, the gigantic club arcing at Cutter. Cutter let dodge carry him back, spinning and landing easily. As planned, he immediately launched the same counter that had failed so many times before. It might have been ineffective, but he knew what the results would be, and that made it strangely safe. The eye on the back of the hand saw him coming, the fist backhanding towards him. At the same instant the spinning blades of Lita buzzed in. Cutter, ducking the blow, could have sworn that eye widened in what might have been sudden fear. King Kobold lashed out with his right hand, leaving the club on the ground for a moment.

  Lita exploded into pieces.

  “Shit!” Cutter cursed, trying to hack again as King Kobold reached for his club. The huge monster was decidedly uncoordinated in the moment. It flailed enough to force Cutter back, but it was clearly at its limits of concentration, swaying on its feet. For a hopeful heartbeat Cutter thought it would fall. Instead, an instant later, the club was sweeping roundhouse and they were dodging back to gain space.

  He played the fight out, watching as Lita drew his parts together and rebuilt himself. He and the kobold danced their dance, but Cutter found it much easier now that he was playing the waiting game rather than desperately seeking an opening. He kept playing dodge the club, occasionally taking a chance at an attack when it was very safe. He didn’t connect.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Then the buzzing was back and King Kobold was twisting away from Cutter to fend Lita off. Cutter darted in, the hand eye widening in alarm as it saw him, King Kobold flailing with that hand behind him, forcing Cutter to dodge. Lita was a whirlwind, spinning around the giant’s feet, never quite connecting, but driving the beast demented in his efforts to fend him off.

  “Back up, Lita! Same strat!” Cutter roared. “Only this time, don’t commit so much.”

  Lita spun back, putting space between himself and King Kobold, his spin coming to a slow stop.

  King Kobold looked from one to the other. There was froth on his lips, his breathing was heavier. Heaving for air the monster roared, the sound making particles vibrate on the floor, making Cutter’s eardrums buzz.

  Then the club was coming Cutter’s way. Exactly as he’d hoped. The moves played out as before. The club smashed the floor as he dodged, he darted in, the hand leaving the club to smash at him. As he ducked, he roared, “Easy this time!”

  Lita seemed to take heed. He buzzed in as before, but with less violence, leaving a little more room, applying a little less momentum. Again, King Kobold had to release the club to move his hand fast enough to fend Lita off. But this time Lita had the space to not get exploded into pieces.

  “NOW!” Cutter roared.

  King Kobold was flailing, off balance, and most importantly, was weaponless.

  “THE ARMS!” Cutter roared, hacking forward. Lita buzzed in, blades whining in the air.

  Cutter’s axe hit home. It felt exactly like hitting a tree trunk. Except this tree trunk bled. This tree trunk howled.

  A second howl erupted a moment later, a deeper more panicked one. Cutter had a glimpse of a bloodied clawed hand flailing on the other side of King Kobold. Lita had hit an eye. All the while, the titan spun on his feet, barely keeping his footing. Cutter hacked again then, on impulse, shoulder charged just as King Kobold took a precarious step. His own strength sigil glowed as he struck the monster, he swung sideways with his axe as his shoulder smashed in, hacking flesh somewhere.

  Like a tree, the monster teetered over. The impact on the ground shook the stones.

  They seized their moment. The terrible spinning blades of Lita came screaming in, carving at the creature’s side. It shrieked in pain, flailing ineffectually. Cutter, almost unable to believe his own audacity, leapt to the monster’s chest.

  He looked down on the eyes of King Kobold. The murder and intent were gone from them. That chilling killer calm had fled, and only animal terror remained. Later he might dwell on the moment, on the slaughter, but in that instant Cutter was a machine of singular purpose. His axe rose and fell, chewing King Kobold’s face. Blood spurted, bone collapsed. The axe rose and fell again, peeling flesh exposing the shocking white of bone. Again it fell, burying itself in that skull. The chest beneath him writhed in hideous convulsion. The spasms rocked him and he tumbled to the ground.

  He scrambled to his feet, two hands on the axe, spinning to defend himself. But there was no more attack. The huge form was twitching, jerking, dying.

  Cutter exhaled, but never took his eyes from the grisly display.

  Lita was not content. His blades kept spinning, kept chewing flesh and misting blood. Without the booming footsteps of King Kobold, Cutter realized he could hear Lita muttering rapidly, continuously, “GONNA GIT SOME! Said I was gonna git some, now I’m gonna git some!”

  “Lita…”

  Buzzing blades, shredding flesh, spraying blood.

  “LITA! STOP! HE’S DEAD! GODDAMMIT, HE’S DEAD!”

  Lita abruptly stopped, blue eyes drifting over the corpse, squinting in embarrassment. “Oh… yeah, bruh, I, um… knew that…”

  Cutter turned his attention to the band on the creature’s arm. He drank in the sight of the sigils, greedily. Five sigils, three of them cinder. A cinder strength, a cinder sigil that literally showed a hand with an eye on the back of it, a cinder sigil bearing a crown. The two ash sigils showed the icon of a club, the other a fist.

  As curls of smoke started to rise from the sigils Cutter found himself chanting, “Please, please, please…”

  With small puffs of black smoke four of the sigils winked out.

  The cinder strength sigil remained.

  Cutter nodded thoughtfully, “Not bad, not bad. Could have been better, could have been worse.”

  Lita said, “Dooood! Cinder strength is nice!”

  A new door, to the side of the throne, revealed itself. The room rumbled and shook as it freed itself, dust cascading around the frame, stone grinding on stone as it moved aside. At the same instant, the door they had come through started to groan and seal itself.

  “The sigils!” Cutter quite literally shrieked, dashing for the door.

  The door boomed shut as he reached it. He heaved against it, knowing it would be fruitless, but trying anyway. “No! My fucking loot, man!”

  Lita hovered beside him, “Easy come, easy go, bruh…”

  “EASY? That wasn’t easy come, I had to fucking fight to the death for those sigils!”

  “Well, obviously…”

  Cutter shook his head, scowling at the automaton, and moved back to the corpse to claim what prize he could have. As he did so a glint caught his eye. Just beyond the newly opened door, a small chest, banded in bronze, sat.

  “Oooh,” Cutter beamed. “Well what do we have here…”

  Lita looked at him, blue eyes narrowed in disbelief, “Come on, dude. You gotta know there’s a prize at the end of a dungeon!”