Screams exploded from Pearl Banner's low level helpers, which only lasted for seconds as they fell like dominoes. Black water spilled over the platform's ledge and submerged their feet, turning them into Lesser Abyssal Demons. Their levels doubled from two to four, and their karma devolved as their very existence was erased. Those quick enough to avoid the initial rush of zombie water suffered worse fates as their former comrades pounced on them, taking chunks out of their flesh until they also turned.

  "Get off the ground! Maintain distance!" Westcott shouted. "Ranged attacks only."

  The infectious black liquid drew inward across the platform as everyone scrambled toward the pillars.

  Viessa tugged on my arm, but I brushed her off and retrieved one of the many throwing knives I had borrowed from Hanover's workshop. I flung the knife, dropping a minion at Nate's feet as the 16 year old stood frozen in shock, seconds away from being swallowed by the gushing water.

  "Run, kid!" I yelled, spurring him into motion as I launched another knife into a second target behind him.

  He leaped over a supply cart, dodging the shrunken hand of a former friend as it clawed at him, black liquid flooding after him. I dropped one more of his zombified colleagues that was hot on his heels before I turned around.

  The closest pillar was already over capacity. Most of Pearl Banner's main raid team, along with Nassir, Griffin, and over half of Salvation's Blade crowded on top of its flat surface.

  When Viessa realized I was in no hurry, she took off, racing against the infectious liquid bleeding across the platform. For being a level two wearing heavy, over-sized armor she showed surprising haste. Adventurers crowded the eastern pillar, competing for space, but Viessa ignored them, heading straight to the unoccupied northernmost pillar, despite the water closing in.

  "Not all of us can fit," Lexington barked.

  "Lex, get up here," Naila yelled.

  But he was crouched low, fingers interlaced into a foothold, heaving the last Pearl Banner member onto the crammed second pillar. Then he turned and ran north.

  "This way," he said, rallying the last few who couldn't fit.

  Meanwhile, I sniped each infected worker with a series of precision trick shots, planting throwing knives into their skulls as I backpedaled away from the zombification water flooding after me. With as much XP secured as possible, I lightly jogged over to Viessa's pillar, breezing past Lexington and the two level sevens from Salvation's Blade, who were running for their lives.

  +105 XP

  +40 Karma

  I leapt up onto the aged pillar as Viessa offered her hand to Nate, who happily accepted the assistance. A few moments later, Lexington joined us with the two scumbags, who climbed up after him just as the liquid swashed against the pillar's base.

  Target: Heath

  Level: 7

  Karma: -5475

  Additional Data: Specializes in poisons, and excels in close quarters combat with daggers. Favored by Griffin for his willingness to do anything no matter the risk. Discovered his sadistic tendencies as a teen and has indulged in them ever since.

  His pale jade eyes, void of emotion stared through me as the six of us squeezed together on the crammed pillar. I met his gaze with a wry smile and a nod, playing dumb.

  I also scanned his level seven buddy, Ulrich, a 33 year old serial rapist with crazy eyes, licking the mustache hairs curling over his upper lift.

  Salvation's Blade sure employs some real gems.

  "Thanks... You saved my life," Nate whispered between heaving breaths.

  "Don't mention it," I said, more concerned about the rising water level.

  The pitch black zombie sauce sloshed against the base of the pillars as it finished swallowing the arena's floor. At the rate it was rising, we had a few minutes before it reached the top of the pillars.

  "No one panic. It will stop," Westcott shouted from the southern pillar.

  Less than ten seconds later, the zombie sauce fill-up rate doubled and Westcott's 'wait and see' strategy was not only beginning to look stupid, but downright suicidal. Puzzle solving never was one of my strong suits, still it didn't take a genius to notice the pillar on the west side was unoccupied.

  "The western pillar," Naila shouted from the east. "Westcott, it's a split dungeon!"

  No amount of gold trim along his visor could hide the horrified expression forming underneath it.

  "It can't be," Lexington muttered under his breath.

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  "We're running out of time," I said flatly, watching the liquid creep up over the halfway point of the pillars.

  "Griffin, Nassir, and Cyprus, take to the western pillar immediately," Westcott commanded, voice booming across the arena.

  The vacant pillar stood 20 feet away, a distance I could easily clear, but I remained still, perfectly happy with where I was and who I was with.

  "Sorry, I can't jump that far." I yawned and waited.

  It was as blatant of a lie as lies could get. But there was no time to dispute the easily disputable when our pillars were on pace to be submerged in less than a minute.

  Griffin jumped first. He glided across the 20 foot gap with ease, pulling off a smooth landing.

  "Go, it's done!" Hendrix said, palm resting on Nassir's shoulder.

  The level eight gulped, then lunged toward Griffin's platform. He landed clean, stunned by the maneuver's ease thanks to whatever enhancement spell Hendrix had aided them with.

  The neon flames crackling in the braziers extinguished and everything went pitch black. Gasps and unsettled whispers coupled with the noise of blades being drawn and torches being lit filled the chamber.

  The arena rumbled and the pillars shot upward. I glued my feet to the stone as everyone else bumped into each other as we gained momentum, barreling toward a series of four slots in the ceiling, one for each pillar.

  Cool, damp air skimmed across my cheeks as we were whisked up through a tunnel at a stomach churning pace. A thunderous clank sounded and the pillar screeched to a halt, launching us into the air like a bunch of crash test dummies.

  I flipped through the air and landed on my feet with grace, catching Viessa in my arms before the elf dropped head first on her neck. Lexington landed on a mossy patch of earth next to Nate, who had gotten his breath knocked out of him.

  Unfortunately, Heath, and his comrade Ulrich came out unscathed, if not shaken by the entire ordeal. In record time, the raid had gone off the rails—a stark contrast from my solo outing in Waystone's quarry.

  The five of us stood in a moss-choked grotto, its air heavy with the scent of stone and the sour rot of vegetation. Vine-draped pillars loomed around us. Each column was carved with eroded sigils and strange glyphs.

  Above, no sky greeted us, only a ceiling cloaked in dense layers of ashy fog that hovered dozens of feet over us. A soft glow from an unseen source above the fog lit up the grotto like a cloudy overcast day.

  "We're separated," I said, as I surveyed our surroundings.

  "Was Mrs. Naila correct? Is this a split?" Nate asked.

  "A split?"

  "Can't be," Heath interrupted, spitting at his feet. "Not in a dungeon this fuggin' big."

  Lexington crossed his arms and tapped his bracers with armored fingertips. "Then where is everyone?"

  "Master said two way splits are unusual" Nate chimed in. "In theory, a four way split isn't impossible. Although, there's no record of such an occurrence in Pearl Banner's raid logs."

  "My-my master said—" Heath mimicked the kid in a high pitched voice. "Shut up, boy. Nobody's talking to you. We should stay put until the raid party finds us."

  Nate sunk his shoulders while Ulrich nodded.

  "I agree. There is no need to rush. I'm certain Naila and Wedg will find us if the others don't first," Lexington said.

  "Sorry, what's a split?" I asked.

  "Fuck, can a B-rank adventurer be this stupid?" Heath groaned.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and summoned every spare reserve of self-restraint, stopping myself from ending him there. I hadn't planned on killing them so soon, especially not in front of Lexington. I figured a decent opportunity would arise, or they'd strike first and I would counter.

  I don't know if I have it in me to tolerate them that long...

  I ignored the rude comment, chalking it up to strike one, and turned toward Lexington.

  "The boy's right. Splits are seldom seen, I wouldn't concern ourselves with that notion yet."

  "That didn't answer my question. This is only my second dungeon."

  "Right, my apologies. A split dungeon is divided into separate sections. Each section contains a sub boss that must be defeated before the dungeon's main chamber can be entered. It's like a dungeon before the dungeon."

  Heath unwrapped a jerky meat stick and chomped down on it, speaking with his mouthful. "You left out the most crucial part."

  Lexington's mouth twitched like he'd taken a sip of spoiled milk, nostrils flaring. "Aye, there's no need to stoke our worries..."

  "Each section must be cleared by its group. If any one group fails, the dungeon will deadlock and become our tomb," Nate said in a despondent tone.

  "Shut the fuck up, banner boy," Heath said. "It's not a split. Splits only go two ways, shithead."

  Nope. I can’t endure it. They have to die.

  "Don't speak to him like that."

  "Fuck off, novice before I snap and beat the shit out of you." Heath puffed out his chest, and cocked his head with a smarmy expression painted across his face underneath his leather helmet.

  Ulrich's heavy plate armor rattled as he positioned himself a few feet behind me.

  Lexington stepped in between us. "Enough of this folly! We have no choice but to work together."

  "I’d rather not. It will be easier once these two are dead."

  Lexington's scowl morphed into pure befuddlement as he and everyone else digested my words. Despite not speaking the language, Viessa tapped Nate's shoulder and motioned him out of the potential combat zone.

  She's getting to know me pretty well.

  "The fuck did you fuggin' say, bitch?" Heath unsheathed his dagger, falling into a low stance, holding the blade with a tight reverse grip.

  "Stand back. We don't need this cunt amateur," Ulrich said, pushing Lexington back.

  "He's just talking tough. Right, Cyprus? Let's all take a brief respite." Lexington threw up his hands.

  "No." I dropped the over-stuffed traveler's backpack from my shoulders and cracked my neck. "It's best if they die here."

  "Look where we are!" Lex shouted at the top of his lungs, voice booming through the grotto as he slipped past Ulrich, wedging himself between me and Heath, where he didn't belong. "I won't allow it."

  Thankfully, Heath brought his closed left fist to his mouth. He blew as he opened his palm, and a vibrant yellow glitter encompassed us. The airborne particles tasted chalky and stung my nostrils. Aside from the sparkly crap covering my fresh cloak, I wasn't sure of the attack's purpose until I noticed Lexington completely frozen, jaw still open, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth.

  A poison?

  I stood frozen, waiting to feel its effects.

  "Statue dust, fucker. But I bet a dumb foreigner like you doesn't know what that is, now do you?"

  Technically, I didn't.

  "An airborne paralytic." Heath stepped toward me, dagger in hand. "One whiff and, well I can just walk up and cut your—"

  Heath's severed right hand and most of his wrist spiraled to the ground. Blood spewed from the gaping wound as he stumbled back in pained disbelief while I examined the freshly christened edge of my hand scythe.

  "Damn, I took off way more forearm than I intended. I was really going for a clean cut through the wrist."