There came an explosion. A moment later, the rocks began to push outwards, as if a great gust of air had blown them away like dandelion seeds. Dust filtered through the tunnel, but they could still make Chloe out , her hands glowing fiercely with magic, as boulders and rocks hovered in the air around her. Behind her, Blueballs stood untouched.

  She half-turned her head to the others. “I am so going to keep on leveling up this skill.”

  Ben let out an involuntary laugh as Chloe aimed the rocks at the warriors in the cave and shoved.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chloe felt alive with power. Her hands tingled with the after-effects of Telekinesis. She silently thanked Arizona and her teachings in the Mages’ Academy for showing her how to channel the etheric.

  If this was only the beginning level of her skill, she couldn’t imagine what the next level would bring. She logged a reminder to visit the mage when she next had the chance.

  The rocks obeyed her every command. She had peered through the dust and targeted the rangers and mages, either knocking them unconscious as the rocks hit their heads or pushing them back to make way for her friends to pass.

  “Go, now.” Chloe grimaced. “When I release this spell, who knows what’ll happen?” She glanced upwards, wondering if the tunnel would still cave in, even when she was done. What if this was the only exit and they blocked it?

  No time to worry about that now.

  The KieraSlayers didn’t hang around to obey. They filed into the cave, immediately reconvening, their weapons ready. Chloe tested her Telekinesis ability on Blueballs and found that she could inch him out of harm’s way.

  “Come on, you blue SOB.” Chloe grunted.

  When he was free from harm, she strode out the tunnel and released her spell, preparing herself for another onslaught as she entered the domain of her enemies…

  Instead, she found that they were now all too busy trying to stabilize a column that took pride of place in the center of the room.

  All of the warriors hugged the base as tightly as they could. The brute towered over them, his biceps bulging as he tried to still its movement. The rangers stood helpless while the mages had turned their attention to saving the column, using whatever magic they could to influence its structure.

  Chloe saw shadowy tendrils rising and knotting around the column’s base.

  “What are they doing?” Tag whispered.

  Before Chloe could answer, her attention was caught by a shape that was halfway up the column, arms and legs straddling the swaying pillar as it shinnied up its length.

  She realized with sudden dawning horror that the next piece of KieraFreya’s armor was at the top of the column, and the woman climbing it was one she had seen in her vision—a warrior with emerald and green armor on her body.

  KieraFreya’s armor.

  Crap, Chloe hissed, sprinting toward the column. She wasn’t thinking, she just knew she needed to act. This was a race between the boldest warriors, and damned if she was going to be beaten.

  Taking the warriors by surprise, Chloe used her Acrobatics skill to launch onto their backs, spring-boarding off their armor until she was clutching the pillar of rock.

  She managed one step before she felt a powerful hand clutch her ankle and try to drag her down.

  “Oh, no, princess. Where do you think you’re—”

  The hand let go as quickly as it had come. Chloe looked down and saw a flash of blue as the pent-up energy that had been stored while Blueballs was in stasis unloaded in a powerful surge, the toffet smashing into the brute’s side and knocking him to the floor.

  Several of the rangers trained their bows on the pair scuffling on the floor but were hesitant to release their arrows. The last thing they wanted to do was fire on one of their own, but they would be ready when the pair broke apart.

  Spotting this danger, Ben began loosing his arrows at the pack. He barked commands at the KieraSlayers, taking the role of second in command of the party and sending the others into combat.

  Tag, Huk, Therese, and Leonie needed little convincing. They sprinted forward, smashing into the flanks of the rangers and waving their weapons. Caught in close combat, the rangers were forced to use their knives and blades over their bows.

  At first, this looked like an advantage for the KieraSlayers, until the lead ranger managed to get a few good cuts on Tag, using his knives with a level of skill that seemed impossible for a ranger.

  Tag’s fury grew, and so did his strength. He cast Call of the Valiant and sent a wave of power among his comrades, then powered himself and continued the fight.

  Gideon, on the other hand, stayed back beside Ben and Jessie. He readied power in his hands but found that he was far too nervous to fire any magic. His friends were tangled in combat, meaning that it was difficult to get a clear shot.

  Not only that, but even though the warriors around the base of the pillar were open targets, it looked as though if any of them were to stop what they were doing, the whole structure would collapse on itself.

  Even now, the person who was nearing the three-quarter mark struggled to gain further purchase, the thing swaying dangerously. Chloe was making progress climbing, but it looked like the column couldn’t hold the weight of two people, even with the additional support added.

  “They’re never going to make it,” Gideon said to Ben and Jessie. “It’s too fragile for two of them. It was only ever designed for one.”

  “I think you’re right,” Jessie said, looking up from rooting through her bag for a concoction that might help the situation.

  “Crap!” Ben said, pausing between shots. “Chloe! Abandon ship! The whole thing’s going to topple!”

  Chloe heard their voices, but she wasn’t really listening. Inch by painful inch, she clawed her way up the rock face. Her strength was still one of her greatest attributes and she made steady progress, eyes fixed on the figure ahead of her.

  What would happen if she got to the armor first? That was the question that had been preying on Chloe’s mind for weeks. Ever since she had first seen the vision of another player on her quest, she had wondered when this moment would come.

  Would the armor yield to her once she killed the player? Her experience had told her it was unlikely. The KieraFreya armor was the only piece of her equipment that was never sacrificed when a player lost their life.

  She had died on a number of occasions since her first acquisition of the bracers, but they were a part of her. A living, breathing piece of armor with a mind of its own.

  Chloe supposed there was no time to worry about the mechanics of the transition. All she could do at that moment was somehow ensure that she would be the only one to reach the armor. That she would beat the figure looming ahead of her, no matter what the cost.

  Chloe let out a grunt and picked up her pace. The pillar was still swaying and she could hear cracks forming in its length. Small flecks of dust and debris rained upon her, but she was gaining ground now. Just a little bit farther...

  Meanwhile, Blueballs and the brute were in a fistfight. Matching each other in size and in strength, the toffet set about ensuring that the man could not hurt any of his friends.

  Although the toffet had the advantage of claws, the brute was a lot quicker than the beast. For every swipe of its powerful paws, the brute blocked, shoved the arm away, and landed heavy blows to Blueballs’ stomach.

  Blueballs launched his weight at the brute, sending him to the floor. The brute held his paws at bay, grunting in the snarling, terrifying face of the toffet.

  It looked as though Blueballs was going to win the fight until a ranger pulled free of the scrap with the KieraSlayers and managed a fine shot with his arrow straight into Blueballs’ back.

  The beast yelled in pain, losing its dominance for just long enough that the brute shoved the toffet aside, then found a rock and threw it at the toffet’s head.

  Blueballs’ eyes blurred, then shut, and he fell unconscious at the side of the cave.

  “Look out!” Gideon called across the cave, seeing the brute rising to his feet, anger and death in his eyes. Gideon began sprinting toward the fray, wanting to find a way to get an open shot at the monster of a man before he could cause any damage to the others.

  Rodrik was pissed.

  It had been a while since he had felt real pain, and even longer since he had found anything in this realm he considered a challenge to his physical stature and strength.

  After spending years training at the warriors’ guild and emerging as one of the greatest warriors to have ever graced their halls, he had roamed the world looking for challenges and testing his strength in mighty displays of muscle and sweat.

  Yet nothing had come close to making his heart race. Making him fear for his life.

  Until this strange blue creature had attacked him. A being much like himself, only with the added advantage of dagger-like teeth and claws. Where these rivals had found the creature, he had no idea. But he did know one thing:

  Rodrik did not lose.

  Now he stalked toward the fighters engaged in combat, the weak rangers they had inherited on their journey through the woods. His mistress had insisted they join. They “needed to add diversity to their army.” But what good had it done?

  All that had come from their integration into the group was the nuisance that was Asyra, a maggot with an ego complex who questioned his mistress’ orders and could barely hold his own in close-quarters combat.

  Rage surged through Rodrik as his eyes focused on the interlopers. The distractors. The intruders. All thoughts of his mistress and her journey were forgotten as the pain he had felt at the blue creature’s vicious blows transformed into bestial hate.

  He strode into the fray, easily knocking aside the two dwarves with his thick arms. He didn’t bother to worry about friendly fire as he smashed through several rangers, either. Anyone who stood in his way was to fear his fury, and he slammed a fist into a weedy warrior whose knees knocked together. He pummeled his fist on the ground and caught a small goblin who yelped before attempting to crawl away.

  He saw pain and panic in the eyes of the three standing away from the rest, a ranger, a mage, and some woman who looked out of place as she rifled through a large bag.

  Rodrik fed off that look.

  He shouldered his way through his men, feeling pain in the crevice that exposed the skin beneath his armor, the small crook where the wrist and bicep hinged around the elbow. He saw flecks of red and a flash of silver.

  With a look that was more akin to a cat toying with a mouse, he studied the woman who had dealt the blow. She had long blonde hair and was fairly attractive, was he into such things. The fierce expression on her face told him that inside of her was a much bigger heart that what appeared on the outside.

  “Your courage is misplaced,” he growled, voice deep and booming. “Stand down, or face your death.”

  “Funny,” the blonde woman said, “I was about to say the same thing to you.”

  This time she sliced low, sword impossibly finding the gap between his thigh and shin armor. He cursed the creators of his armor for not using a more sophisticated way to deal with the body’s joints and movement.

  He let out a cry of pain as he fell to one knee, and his anger reached the boiling point. No one made him feel pain. No one got the advantage over him. He had disobeyed the number-one rule of his class—never underestimate an opponent—and now he was paying for it.

  “Surrender yet?” the blonde woman asked, a coy smile on her face.

  Rodrik looked down at the floor, took a deep breath, and jumped to his feet, his titanic fist finding the center of the girl’s stomach.

  She flew back as if pulled by invisible strings. He marched toward her, venom in his eyes, until an arrow pinged off his back plate.

  What now? he thought, attention turning back to the three opponents, who were keeping their distance. Their focus was trained on him now, and a smile returned to his face.

  He spared one last look at the girl, who was struggling to her feet. He decided he’d come back for her and went for the other three.

  Now very curious about what the hell the woman was pulling from her bag.

  Valoric_Warrior_219 felt a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

  Below her, she could hear the battle ensuing, but she paid it little mind. She trusted her men to fight for her until the death. Even if they did lose their lives, what did she have to worry about? She was painfully close now. She could practically smell the precious metals of the armor just waiting to be taken by her.

  Although it wasn’t a piece of armor, was it? It was a sword. A golden sword that glimmered like the richest of gold mines, abundant with ore. A perfect creation that could, no doubt, deal perfect blows.

  A sword created by the gods.

  A sword that would give her the ultimate advantage over the Enemy.

  A sword that would please Fukmos very much.

  Oh, how she longed to hold the sword. The greatest part of playing these MMORPGs was the power she felt when she leveled up. When she grew as a character and earned new equipment. The weapons, the armor, the authority she held over others.

  Anything to quiet the shallow pain and loneliness she felt in her real life.

  Her fingers ached. Although she had gathered several pieces of KieraFreya’s equipment, the most recent of which was her helmet, she had let her men do a lot of the fighting for her.

  While this meant her attributes (particularly in strength) were somewhat lacking, her charisma and negotiation skills were incredibly high. She knew the Enemy would have the advantage over her in combat…

  Unless I get this sword…

  Her fingers struggled to grip the crumbling rock. Even with her men bracing the bottom, the pillar swayed as she circled the highest parts of the cave. She could hear the Enemy below her, making steady progress, but she would not be beaten.

  No. She would not be beaten.

  Gritting her teeth, she picked up her speed. She threw caution to the winds, now that the final goal was in sight. She was about ten feet away now, and a simple, well-positioned bound would carry her the rest of the way.

  Sure, she may die when she hit the ground, but the item would be hers. Her resurrection would be swift, the sword would be in her grasp, and her retribution would be almighty.

  Her muscles tensed, and she coiled like a snake about to strike. The pent-up energy was ready to explode as she waited for the right moment to launch. Waiting for the pillar to sway directly beneath the floating armor, and for her mission to complete.

  She heard the Enemy shout something, but again, she ignored the words. This was her moment.

  Her glorious moment to claim what was rightfully hers.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Demetri had never missed a day of work. Had never even contemplated the idea of faking an illness and playing truant from his responsibilities. His whole life had been a careful series of planned steps that would take him ever higher up the rungs of the ladder of success.

  As a child, his parents had taught him the importance of responsibility. Of following through. It was one of the many reasons the Lagardes had hired him. Out of all the local psychologists who served the wealthy city-dwellers, Demetri had been the one who had stood out.

  Sharply dressed. Knowledgeable. Charismatic. Approachable.

  All things that would serve the family well.

  Yet, he had later discovered in a private conversation between him and the God and Goddess of the Lagarde family that it had been his perfect attendance record through high school, college, and beyond which had secured the post for him.

  They had needed someone reliable. Someone who would serve the Lagardes and be dependable, no matter what.

  And so Demetri had stuck to that value. Rain or shine, in sickness and in health, he had attended every meeting, had been present at every session, and had even attended the late-night callouts when the Lagarde children were younger, fresh out of college and in dire need of mental and emotional support.

  Demetri remembered the dark evenings with Hector and Hilary Lagarde on his couch, the cracks beginning to show under the pressure of carrying the family name. A monumental task for the best of people, let alone the eldest son and daughter of one of the world’s most powerful couples.

  But now, for the first time in his professional career, he hesitated.

  It was early morning, the sky overcast and gray. Outside, the sounds of morning traffic and the odor of coffee filled the streets.

  Usually at this time, Demetri would be heading down in the elevator, ready to step out into the world, get his first hit of fresh morning air, and go into the office.

  Now, he paused, leaning on the door jamb of the study. He and Mia were silent as they stared at the projected image on the screen. Chloe and the KieraSlayers had journeyed through the dungeon and finally met the one she had been forewarned about—the girl from KieraFreya’s visions.

  And now she looked to be in trouble.

  You could have heard a pin drop in that room. Neither of them dared to speak, just watched the action unfurl. The pillar was crumbling. The monster on the floor in full rampage mode. Above Chloe, the other player looked ready to dive for the hovering golden item.

  For the first time in his professional career, Demetri picked up his cell phone, dialed the number for the Lagardes’ assistant, and told them not to expect him today.

  Something else needed his focus, even though he was powerless at that moment to help.

  He hoped Hugo and Helen would understand.

  Surely, they would understand?

  Chloe heard the collision below her and her heart leapt into her throat. Since she was lower down the pillar than the woman above, she felt the shock of the impact and heard the air leave Leonie’s lungs as the brutish man thwacked her into the column.