There was more power within the Maw than Nathan had expected.

  Great plumes of ghostly fire erupted from the ground, like the thousand tongues of a giant, furious beast. They lashed through the air, the size of tree trunks, uncaring for what they collided with. Men screamed and burned by the dozens. The entire room was alight with flame as the Maw spilled out of the doorway and into the chamber beyond.

  Nathan followed its path of destruction and charred stone. He walked through its flames, feeling them on his skin, but staying unburnt. He stepped over corpses and dying men, not feeling the least bit sorry for them. They’d come here with the intent of taking the dungeon’s treasures for themselves, of stealing from him.

  He spared a backward glance over his shoulder to see Corvus being pressed into a corner of the chamber by one of the Maw’s many thrashing limbs. The man screamed in anger and pain as his fingers dug into the flames, barely keeping them from crushing his body to the ground. With any luck, he would not last much longer.

  “You bastard!” Corvus roared from behind. “Who are you? I’ll kill you! You have no idea who you’ve just messed with!”

  Nathan didn’t break his stride.

  “You’re right,” Nathan yelled back, a grin on his face. “I don’t. Fortunately, I’ve always found dead men to be very bad at getting revenge.”

  Nathan stepped through the doorway and into the chamber beyond, the Maw following around him, scattering the remaining soldiers like leaves as it brushed its massive arms across the ground. Several made it to the edges of the room, beyond the Maw’s reach, or out of the chamber and into the rest of the dungeon. Nathan made no move to chase them. If they lived, they earned it.

  Besides, they still had no idea who he really was.

  Nathan left the smoldering remains of the Cerulean Brotherhood behind him, walking out of the dungeon, whistling.

  ***

  Mutated Nightshade Maw Echo Ushered.

  Power gained: Increasing strength permanently by 20%

  Ability temporarily gained: None

  Echoes Stored: [1/4]

  Total Echoes Ushered: [7/15]

  Nathan exited the dungeon to find Cleo leaning against the doorway, admiring her new bow. She never even looked up from it as he approached.

  “Everything go according to plan?” she asked, then looked up from her bow with narrowed eyes, the corner of her mouth tugging upward. “I heard some screams.”

  Nathan chuckled and strode past her, out of the dilapidated stone building above the dungeon’s entrance and back into the warm sunlight. “I think from now on, we stick with my plans.”

  The two assassins walked through the empty camp. It appeared that Corvus had brought the entirety of his force down into the dungeon with him. Well, almost the entire force. While walking, Nathan spotted several corpses with glowing purple arrows sticking out of their backs lying dead in the mud.

  “Did you really have to shoot the ones running away?” Nathan sighed.

  “Please.” Cleo rolled her eyes. “Not a morality lecture from the man who just killed nearly a hundred men.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Nathan wanted to say some sort of retort, but found that she had a solid point and let the conversation drop. The two assassins made their way back toward where they had stowed their mounts before getting wrapped up in the absolute mess that was the dungeon.

  On his way, Nathan decided to pull up his stat screen again. He had leveled quite a few times throughout the dungeon and needed to distribute points.

  Name: Nathan Fleet

  Race: Human*

  Class: Ferryman - Shepherd of the Nameless

  Level: 14

  Stats: (Stat Points: 21)

  – Strength: 29

  – Agility: 47

  – Endurance: 29

  – Intelligence: 13

  – Charisma: 18

  – Luck: 8

  Most of the Cerulean Brotherhood men had died to the Echo of the Maw, so he hadn’t gotten the experience from those kills, but he had still killed enough men on his own to level two more times.

  He wished he had some sort of guide on what exactly each stat did. Would increasing his Charisma simply make him better at talking? It didn’t seem like something that could be easily quantifiable. Arnold had mentioned that Intelligence and Charisma were more related to mind and abilities, but hadn’t said much else.

  A small breeze blew through the trees, sending dead leaves falling to the ground. Several brown and yellow leaves wafted in front of his face, drifting on the gentle breeze before settling down at his feet and being crunched into the mud by his boot.

  A thought suddenly struck Nathan as he watched another set of leaves drift from the branches, and he decided to test a theory. He dumped five of his points into Intelligence, bringing it from thirteen to eighteen.

  He looked at the leaves falling around him again. There were thirty-two of them. One landed softly on the ground to his left and three more fell on the right.

  Nathan smiled to himself as they came upon the horses, who were patiently waiting for them, tied to the trees.

  His Intelligence score didn’t actually make him smarter. It made him able to process information faster. He could see the track and see the leaves falling through the air as if they were moving in slow motion.

  But that still begged the question of what Charisma did. He guessed that it had to do with the channeling or power of abilities - probably very useful for more spellcaster focused classes, but at the moment, he was too drained to do much testing.

  Nathan placed seven points each into endurance and strength. The crushing grip from Corvus still ached on his shoulder as a constant reminder of just how strong some other people in this world may be. Corvus was likely nowhere near the upper echelon of strength yet had easily picked Nathan up, nearly breaking his bones, and there had been nothing he could do about it.

  Increasing his strength and endurance would help to make sure that never happened again.

  He placed the last two points into Intelligence and Charisma, increasing each by one, then saddled up onto his horse. The stupid beast barely acknowledged his presence, but at least it wasn’t actively trying to knock him off of it.

  “What do you think Saleh wanted from that dungeon?” Nathan asked as he and Cleo trotted down the roading leading to Aelsport.

  “Hell if I know,” she replied with a shrug.

  “You aren’t the least bit curious? Why would he have helped us get in there, say we get the treasures, and then betray us? That’s not suspicious to you?”

  The woman shrugged again, her back to Nathan as she rode ahead of him. “He was a liar,” she said, her voice sounding bored already. “Liars lie. All I care about right now is getting back to the city and getting a hot bath.”

  “You think they have running water in this world?”

  “If they don’t,” she replied. “I’m killing us both so we can move onto the next one.”

  “I don’t know.” Nathan looked at the world around him. Pristine skies. Fresh air. No one to answer to. “I kind of like this world.”

  Cleo scoffed. “Of course you do. Here, you can play superhero. Even when we were back on earth and you were known as one of the most ruthless and deadly assassins – the kind that would make mob boss’s piss trickle down their legs at the mention of your name – you had a weird obsession with justice. I never understood it, and as much as I hate you, I’m the person that understands you the most.”

  “You know something, Cleo?” he asked lightly, catching her eyes as she looked back over her shoulder. “When I’m able to look past your cold, bitchy, porcupine-like exterior, you’re not that bad.”

  Cleo shook her head, and quickly looked back toward the road ahead of them. “I will kill you here and now, Nathan.”

  But she hadn’t been quite quick enough. He'd spotted the subtle grin that had flitted across her face.

  Nathan leaned back in the saddle and tilted his head toward the sky, staring up at the clear blue sky and feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on his face.