Everyone has a story to tell. From the most boring pencil-pusher to the most salacious bard: everyone is a world unto themselves. And the better the story-teller, the more that world shows. Raynold did not hear this in a college creative writing class, but from learning swordsmanship under his Master.

  The same man who’d thought it would be good to learn by doing, thus throwing Raynold into a den of man-eating insects each larger than a car.

  But even though his Master sometimes had bad ideas, he also had good ones. In fact, Raynold would even go so far as to say that he had more good ideas than bad. That was why, hiding behind a rock, Raynold heeded his Master’s wisdom, and thought of the story he would spin tonight.

  After all, how frustrating would it be if he slayed a dragon just for no one to care?

  “I can’t believe it. First time I see one in person.”

  “What do we do?”

  “It looks like a juvenile. Still, we should head back, even a newborn has an Avatar.”

  “We should kill it.”

  All eyes turned to Raynold, each one holding a different expression. Mitchell grinned at the thought of slaying a dragon, no doubt wondering why he hadn’t thought of the idea first. Elaine was tense, but not afraid. Her eyes darted between Raynold and Frey, whose face soured like he’d smelled something rank.

  “The decision’s mine,” the leader said.

  “Come on Frey, when are we going to get another chance? You’ve nearly formed a seed and the three of us all have concepts. Mitchell got a new sword, we’re stocked up on elixirs, and it hasn’t noticed us yet. We’re in peak condition.”

  “It’s too dangerous, we should pull back and get help.”

  “This is the 15th floor, by the time we get back the dragon will either be gone or already dead. We have to be quick.”

  “Why are you always in such a rush? This isn’t the first time either.”

  “I’m not in a rush, I just know a golden opportunity when I see one. This is our big break.”

  “I’m sold,” Mitchell interjected. “Come on Frey, he’s right. We already took down the 13th lord, this isn’t that much more of a jump.”

  Frey looked at Elaine for support. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “You too?”

  “I think we have a good chance.”

  He almost looked betrayed, the poor leader being overruled by his closest friends in favor of the upstart. Before Frey could double down, Raynold threw him a bone.

  “Frey, at the end of the day it's your decision. You say go and we all leave. You’re the leader. But are you sure you want to do that? Are you satisfied with just taking low-level fishing jobs? At a certain point, you have to take a risk that’ll propel you beyond everyone else. Besides, you’re an adventurer. You do the impossible, no matter how slim the odds.”

  Frey scoffed at the clichè. Certainly, Ranold had laid it on a little thick.

  “Frey,” he whispered slowly, “it's not about what you want, it’s about what the party needs. And right now, we need our leader, we need you.”

  That got him. Raynold could see a sparkle in Frey’s eyes as his ego inflated beyond what his body could handle. Thank God, Raynold thought, for the Guild’s rebranding.

  People who explored the dungeon used to be called Divers. Now, they were brave adventurers who ventured into the very vicious Dungeon. Not mucky brutes who did odd jobs. They were cool and brave, straight out of a bard’s romantic tales.

  And the Guild weren’t the only ones who knew how to attract new blood. Raynold could also get someone wrapped around his finger.

  “Alright. Elaine, Mitchell, Raynold, let’s do this. Let’s slay the dragon.”

  So easy.

  The plan was simple but difficult. While Mitchellel held the frontline with Elaine supporting him, Raynold and Frey would attack however they could. Anything more complicated would devolve into chaos the moment the battle began.

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  The dragon rested in a wide clearing ahead, sleeping on a patch of grass that had grown under the light of large mana crystals. Trees and shrubbery grew here and there, the greenery a strong contrast against the dragon’s bright red hide.

  While the dragon slept the party prepared themselves, consuming all the elixirs they’d brought, leaving only two healing potions for each person. Chaotic energies thrashed inside of Raynold, seeping throughout his body and bleeding into his being. He hadn’t grasped his Qi yet, and already he was full near bursting with energy that demanded release.

  They all looked at their leader restlessly, the nerves building in anticipation. They got a curt nod.

  Raynold’s world slowed to a crawl as Mitchellel exploded forward from cover, shattering stone underfoot. Raynold grasped his Qi, and the spray of pebbles froze mid-flight as if falling through molasses. Let alone count them, he could see the individual grains on each of them.

  He drank in more of the energy until his senses transcended human limits, the shadows of the cave becoming darker than black and the light of the crystals forming a white silhouette that erased the world. Every color in between resolved until the hue of green on a tree leaf and a blade of grass was as different as heaven and Earth.

  Even his more esoteric senses were elevated. When he unsheathed his sword, he felt its eagerness. When he moved to exit cover, he could feel Frey’s stare sliding off of him and onto the dragon. And when he took off, he felt a probing presence spearing through him, as though a higher being had deigned to fix their attention on him.

  The Dragon was awake.

  Mitchell closed the distance and swung his battle axe down on the Dragon’s snout, only barely missing as it dodged back. The explosion of the impact, his heavy footfalls, his inhuman war cry, all of it was drowned out by the Dragon’s thunderous roar as it reared its head.

  “Dragon fire!” Frey called out. Raynold sunk into a deeper part of his mind, receding from the world and its violence. He saw everything as though through a screen, his body someone else’s and his vision another’s experience. The dragon’s presence lessened and the cacophony became background noise. Another bit of his Master’s wisdom: a trick to overcome fear.

  It also reduced his awareness of pain and extreme temperature.

  Frey and Elaine got behind Mitchell, who struck the base of his axe against the floor.

  “Rise!” The ground heeded his command, forming a thick wall of stone in front of him. At the same time, Elaine waved her staff and conjured a bubble of golden light to surround the three.

  Raynold was faster; he sprinted behind the dragon and trusted the armor his master had gifted him. The potions were more of a placebo.

  The dragon let loose a beam of flames that engulfed the cavern in a raging inferno. The greenery instantly combusted, becoming char dust that scattered in the fire. In its place was black ash and red-hot magma that was too bright to look at.

  A fighter jet descends to this fantasy world. Raynold couldn’t help making the connection.

  As his companions struggled underneath the onslaught, Elaine summoned more barriers. Once, twice, a third time, each one lasted only seconds.

  Heavy needles flew from Raynold’s hand, propelled with lightning like a railgun. They sank into one of the dragon’s eyes, bursting it like a grape. The inferno ended, replaced by monstrous wails that shook the ground and broke stalactites.

  A wave of malice washed over Raynold, the dragon’s full focus trained solely on him.

  “Come on!”

  The dragon obliged, scrambling towards him and ripping the earth apart. While his companions recovered, Raynold reached into his microcosm, and felt a bottomless ocean of Qi. He reached above that ocean, into the dark storm that brewed inside of him, and picked out lightning Qi.

  Just a probing touch was enough, and a connection formed. Lightning arched out of his core and through his channels, scorching the paths they took. To Raynold’s senses, wrapped in an insulating layer of nothing, it felt like ants crawling underneath his skin.

  Why am I not scared? This dragon is coming at me, and I don’t feel anything. Hell, I could die. The thought came unexpectedly as he dodged claws sharper than any sword, each time by just a hair’s breath. Deep gouges were left wherever he’d last stood.

  Between contorting out of the way and stepping carefully, he lashed out with his sword, feeling the familiar sensation of parting flesh and rending bone. It came naturally; he was long past having to overthink every one of his movements.

  I guess I’ve gotten stronger.

  The dragon snapped its maw at Raynold. A big mistake. Where Raynold’s sword had passed were invisible marks engraved in the air. With a flair of Qi they came into being, cutting the dragon a second time. It fell back, creating a lull in the battle.

  Raynold took stock of the situation. Everything had gone to hell. The cavern was reduced to molten magma that sloughed off the roof and dripped from the walls.

  His comrades were breathing hard and doing their best to push through the heat that scorched their lungs and sinuses. The dragon, on the other hand, was bleeding from its hands and mouth.

  Rather than a wounded animal, it only looked even more fearsome. If they weren’t careful, it wouldn’t just be dragon blood slathered on its fangs and claws.

  “Frey!?”

  “We’re fine! Ray, you focus on dealing damage. Mitch, you and me distract it. Elaine, help where you can, focus on defence.”

  “Roger!”

  “Got it!”

  The battle was hard-fought, with no one holding anything back: sword arts, assassination techniques, miracles, marksmanship, prayers, movement techniques, skills bought and bartered for with humans and spirits alike; nothing was left out.

  Each and every one of them brought out the full breadth of their abilities to the very pinnacle of mastery. By every metric, they had reached a new level of prowess while dancing with death.

  Elaine especially. She saved Mitchell when the dragon’s claws broke through his battle axe and disemboweled him. The only reason he hadn’t died instantly was because he’d turned his body stronger than steel. Not enough to stop the impact, but enough that his stomach wouldn’t fall out. She put him back together and he immediately took out his new sword and went back into the fight.

  That had been the turning point. For all its devastating power and primal strength, the dragon was neither an adult nor a true dragon. It was just a very large, very dangerous animal. Once the party found their rhythm, it was just a matter of time.