I considered building a bonfire of the nearly two dozen dead and charred Wood Wights that I and my Elemental had destroyed, but decided against it as I wanted to keep moving. The Wights had dropped some interesting loot, which had automatically appeared within my Three-Pack Ring. I excitedly examined the additional coin and each new treasure, hoping my Fortune had served me well. I wasn’t disappointed.

  26 Gold, 18 Silver, 4 Copper

  Wood Wight splinters X 10

  Dreamshroom X 3

  Staff of Rot

  I materialized a Wight splinter into my hand. It was sharp, but mundane looking. The mushroom was white with blue spots. I sniffed it and immediately felt woozy. I put it away and wiped my hands in the snow. Best not to mess with something so potent if I didn’t know what it was. It was the Staff of Rot that drew my attention the most.

  With a thought, I held the staff in my hand. As if by design, it was the same height as me. If anything, it would make for a decent walking staff moving forward. It was rough to the touch and appeared made from the same wood as the Wights. It was twisted at the top into a spiral pattern. Looking closer at it, the wood was coated in a thin layer of tiny, yellowish crystals. I inspected it more closely.

  Staff of Rot

  Will: +3

  Force: +2

  Potency of all Disease and Poison abilities are increased by 10%. Healing Received Reduced by 5%.

  Skill: Necrosis

  This staff, a favored weapon of evil-aligned Druids and Wrath Shapers also possesses the skill Necrosis, which has a 12% chance of being applied to any enemy physically struck by the staff. The skill will apply the Leprosy debuff, which will reduce HP by half after 5 minutes and cause skin, hair and nails to fall out. Can be removed with Cure Disease spells.

  I stared in horror at the staff in my hand after reading the description. My first instinct was to throw such a loathsome thing away, but then I wondered if having the staff could mean the difference between success or death for the remainder of this dungeon run.

  It’s the same dilemma I face whenever I use Wrath Shield, isn’t it? I would never have survived that first dungeon without that spell! I need to use the tools that are provided to me.

  I would equip the staff for now, but I would likely sell or exchange it for something else as soon as possible. Until then, I would be hesitant to ever hit someone with the staff. Leprosy sounded awful.

  I finally reached the end of my journey when I entered another Grove, this one completely different from the first. A stone arch, carved in glowing blue runes sat at the center of the Grove entwined with what looked like blue Winter Roses. A figure encased in black armor knelt before the arch as if in prayer. Long, white hair spilled out the back of the helmet. Hot breath expelled into the cold air from the grill covering the figure’s mouth. At my approach, the armored figure stood. They turned to regard me and I stopped in my tracks. They were lifting an enormous two-handed sword almost lazily. I swallowed nervously.

  I hope this is another riddle. I really don’t want to fight this person.

  “An Awakened,” the grim figure said. The voice, deep and mournful, also held an accusatory tone. I took a defensive stance and prepared to cast Burning Arms, but the warrior made no move to attack. Instead, it reached out and ran a hand over the stone of the arches. It seemed a tender gesture, until I heard the scrape of an armored finger clawing upon stone. It made me wince. “The blame for the deaths of our Gods rests solely upon your shoulders.”

  “I haven’t killed any Gods,” I argued.

  How would I even do that? Is this guy crazy?

  The warrior ignored me, but took a step forward to stand underneath the arches. The runes on the arches began to glow a brighter blue. “But my people foolishly cling to the self-inflicted doom of dreams,” he continued. “So, I must exist in an endless cycle of guarding this door. Sometimes I fail and am killed, but I also might succeed and kill those interlopers who would seek my father’s hidden Sanctuary.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  “Your Father? Who are you?” I asked, intrigued by the sadness I heard in the warrior’s voice. I knew what it was like to feel trapped in an endless cycle of existence. “Must we fight? I am not your enemy!”

  The warrior raised his sword and stepped through the arch. As he did, the blue roses upon the arches bloomed and the warrior’s armor changed from solid black to a cobalt color. My eyes widened as the warrior’s blade also glowed blue and I sensed an icy malevolence radiating from it. A new window opened before me.

  Tyndonomir Merovingian, Warden of Doors

  Level: 24

  “Do you have the key?” The Warden of Doors asked.

  “Key? No?”

  “Then you have not met my Sister? Good…”

  “It is? Should I have taken that right path first?” I asked aloud, perturbed by the sudden change in the Warden’s tone. I almost didn’t react in time when he lunged forward faster than I could have ever believed possible.

  “Then you die!” The blade arched downward towards my skull and I jerked backward, the blade just missing taking off an ear. The Fire Elemental darted in front of me, its sudden flare of flames making its body appear even larger. I sensed its anger and mentally willed it to attack Tyndonomir with everything it had.

  I’ve got to make some distance between us. That sword is huge!

  Tyndonomir wielded his sword with practiced expertise. With each swing, he took off a piece of my Elemental who doggedly kept swinging its arms as it tried to slash at the Warden any way it could. Despite the armor, Tyndonomir moved like a cat. He leapt, dodged and riposted effortlessly. I began to feel the beginnings of real fear. We were outmatched.

  I need to help the Elemental. It’s time to put my new spells to the test.

  I cast Blood Boil and grinned from beneath my cowl when I saw Tyndonomir arch his back and cry out in surprise. My spell took hold! The very blood in the Warden’s body was causing him terrible pain and finally the Elemental landed a hit upon one of his arms.

  Blood Boil inflicts 8 points of damage!

  Blood Boil inflicts 12 points of damage!

  Lunar Fire elemental inflicts 5 points of damage!

  The Warden’s impressive armor was protecting him from much of my Elementals attacks, but there was no protection from the damage over time effect of Blood Boil. I wasn’t done yet. I pointed both my palms outward directly at the Warden. I heard him growling in anger as he tried to get around my Elemental to attack me directly. It gave me an idea.

  Dart right, now! I mentally willed the Elemental. It complied immediately giving me a clear path to the caught off guard Warden. I dual cast Burning Arms.

  Two identical streams of flame met in mid-air to form a single, powerful stream of fire. It caught Tyndonomir directly in the chest and pushed him back as if he were caught in a strong gust of wind. He cried out in surprise and cursed me, I believe, in a tongue I didn’t understand. I didn’t let up. My mana was depleting rapidly and I needed to end this fight quickly before I did. I willed the Elemental to attack once more.

  “I have you!” I shouted in triumph as I saw Tyndonomir sink to one knee. His breastplate glowed white from the heat of the flames. His roar of rage only galvanized me to pour as much as I could into my spell. I was going to win!

  I am powerful, can’t you see, you fool? I am not one to be trifled with anymore!

  As if he heard my thoughts, Tyndonomir played his final card. The blade of his sword flared a deep red. Waves of power radiated out from it and I instinctively cut off Burning Arms as I sensed a familiar feeling from the mana.

  Wrath Mana? How!?

  Tyndonmir gave a battle cry and leapt to his feet as the Wrath Mana spread from his blade to coat his entire body in a red outline. He held the sword aloft in both hands, then, reaching up, ripped the helm from his head. I beheld a handsome, elvish face that was red with exertion and rage.

  “You will fall here, Awakened! The treasures of the Blood are not for the likes of you!”

  “I don’t want your treasures! I just want the Silveron Seed!”

  My words caused Tynodomir to roar even louder than he had before! His speed doubled, no, tripled as he seemed to fly across the ground. His blade slashed diagonally through the Elemental, severing it and my connection to it. I felt the spell unravel, but I had no time to mourn its loss as Tyndonomir loomed above me, Wrath Mana blazing.

  “You would dare!? I will kill you and send your soul screaming into the Hells your flames were born from!”

  I had prepared a Combustion Bolt in my left hand. From this close, Tynodonmir was clearly in bad shape. My flames coupled with the Elemental’s attacks and Blood Boil and done a number on him. I still had a chance to win, but my mana was nearly depleted and I could feel the strain of casting on a nearly empty Mana Core taking its toll on me. It was now or never.

  I raised my hand and fired my bolt directly into Tyndonomir’s face, but the elf was mad on Wrath Mana. The bolt exploded, setting the elf’s white hair on fire. He screeched like a banshee, his mouth open impossibly wide. I felt my mana bottom out and my head felt as if it were about to explode. Then, his blade arched downward as if in slow motion. I couldn’t even cry out as the sword took off my left arm at the elbow. I watched my appendage fly away as I slowly sank to my knees, staring at the stump of my arm in abject disbelief.

  Tyndonomir, Warden of Doors fell to the ground. He writhed in agony, clutching at his ruined face. He screamed at me in his own language, but I wasn’t listening. I could only stare at the place where my left arm had once been. Then, I started screaming too, but in anger.

  I was up on my feet again, my new staff held one handed as I ran to stand over Tyndonomir. I brought the staff down again and again upon his head. I kept swinging, hitting him even after his cries ceased altogether. I swung until my arm ached and there was nothing recognizable as an elf that lay motionless on the ground in front of me. I dropped the staff and ripped off my hood and tore down my scarf. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I clutched at the stump of my arm. Tyndonomir’s cut had somehow cauterized the wound, so it did not bleed, but the pain was excruciating.

  Congratulations! You have defeated Tyndonomir, Warden of Doors!

  Ding!

  Experience has been banked until you exit the Forsaken Garden!

  I ignored the windows, willing them away. I stared at my severed arm lying on the ground.

  How? My arm is gone! By the Eye, what do I do now?

  I fell onto my back and lay in the snow next to Tyndonomir’s body. I turned my head to look at him. His blackened skull stared back at me in accusation…or was it amusement? I groaned and cried until my shock finally pushed me over the edge into unconsciousness.