Grim paused as the sub-boss faded away, its ethereal form lingering like an afterimage of the nasty fight they’d all just survived. After a short delay, he felt the essence trickling into him. It swirled into a pool in his core, then, as he pushed down on it, directing it into the parts of his body, mind, and spirit that he needed to enhance, he felt it cross the threshold for his level three body.

  ? Power pulsed through his being, then radiated out in a wave. The others grinned as they felt it and hurried forward to clap him on the shoulder. “You hit level four! Congratulations!”

  ? He grinned at the party as they congratulated him. Finally, he was level four. The past two weeks of training hadn’t left him with much time for delving, which had hampered his progression. But finally, today, he’d hit upon his goal.

  ? The rush of essence through his body was exhilarating, like a concentrated cup of coffee. It bolstered every attribute that he’d focused on, sharpening his reflexes. He lightly shifted his weight, sure that he even felt lighter. He wanted to test his might against a monster now, to see just how more deadly and agile he’d become.

  ? “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself now,” the leader of the party said. The others chuckled. “This is still a level four dungeon. You won’t have much experience fighting monsters of this level. Yes, you can hold your own now, but you’re still new to this. I made a promise to look after your safety while you came with us, and we can’t have the golden goose getting cooked.”

  ? The appearance of his new nickname immediately put a damper on his elation, and he lifted his head, feeling his brow tighten. “Do you really have to call me that?”

  ? The party leader shrugged, though his grin didn’t fade in the slightest. “Why not? It’s a good title. It usually takes new delvers years to earn a flattering nickname. Two months has got to be some kind of record.”

  ? “Still,” he said, hunching his shoulders. “Being named after a bird is…”

  ? His voice trailed off then, as he realized that he’d named himself after a hawk. Of course, the others didn’t know that, so he kept the thought to himself. Anything to avoid encouraging the nickname. He’d originally hoped that if he ignored it, others would tire of it and the moniker would fade away. Quite the opposite, he thought with a grimace. Almost every member of the guild used it now, and worst of all, they said it as if it were a joke.

  ? “So…” the ranger of the party looked between his leader and Grim. “Is it empty, then?”

  ? Grim gave a start. He’d been so absorbed in his new level that he’d forgotten to do the very thing they’d hired him to do. Closing his eyes, he allowed his delver’s sense to mingle with the strange energy that permeated the dungeon. In an instant, he felt Camouflage activate, and opened his eyes to see faint streams of essence weaving through the air, like little ghost trails–showing where monsters had been recently.

  ? A small section of the wall fell away to his enhanced eyes–or rather the illusion that made it seem like a section of the stone wall was pierced by his eyes–to reveal a small pouch. He ended his skill then, letting out a low breath. That seemed easier and more efficient with his higher level.

  ? “There’s a pouch behind an illusion there,” he said, pointing it out. “Also, there’s four tracks going through this room, even though there were only three monsters in here.”

  ? “A roaming monster?” the party leader asked, and Grim nodded.

  ? “There’s more,” he added solemnly. “Its trail was faint. It’s likely a stealthy type.”

  ? “Thanks for that tip,” the leader said, adjusting the shield on his arm. “Well, Roderic, you keep an eye out for that. Eagle Eyes for five minutes at a time, please. If you need a rest, let me know.”

  ? Roderic the ranger nodded and blinked slowly. When his eyes opened again, they were covered in a thin sheen of mana that sank into them. There was no visual change–as was present in those with a bloodline–but the way his pupils immediately contracted showed how his sight in the darkness. Then he was away, his footsteps barely audible against the stone underfoot as he melded into the shadows. Grim had to resist the urge to whistle at Roderic’s skill in moving stealthily. He hadn’t even used a skill, and yet had effectively vanished from sight.

  ? The party progressed deeper into the dungeon, their scout returning in three to five-minute intervals to report on his findings. It was the standard formation, and they tackled each new pack of monsters with clinical precision. Unlike the typical party, however, they had no mage, relying instead on caution and superior fighting prowess to advance. Their leader had a sharp wit and an agile mind, able to react to the slightest change in the tactics of their enemies. To Grim, it almost seemed as if the man had learned his craft in a war, rather than delving dungeons.

  ? Barely an hour later–marking a total delve time of eight and a half hours–they came across the final chamber of the dungeon. There had been no sign of the roaming monster, which left Grim wondering if he’d been mistaken. Perhaps the faint trail was simply because it had been old. He’d used Camouflage several times in the hour since he’d first spotted it, and the trail hadn’t grown any fresher.

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  ? “Shit.” The single expletive from the party leader’s mouth made Grim look around and pay attention. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to see the boss, because the others were nearly three heads taller than he was. He could just make out a patch of thick, tall grass, and almost no light. He wasn’t sure what had caused such concern in the party. Then, as Roderic pointed, he saw it. A cold fist crept around his heart.

  ? At the center of the final chamber, a humanoid figure sat cross-legged among the grass, his hood and cloak made of flowing smoky shadows. He was covered from neck to foot in leather, but piercing white eyes shone out from under the hood, with no pupils. His appearance alone was frightening, sure, but the real danger in the encounter was what he was.

  ? “An Invader boss?” The brawler of the group said, groaning. “What is our fucking luck?”

  ? Grim had heard of Invader bosses before, though most of his knowledge had come from far-removed accounts. The sort of thing that someone had heard from someone who had heard a third or fourth-hand account of the tale that the original delver had told. Invader bosses were exceptionally rare and always dangerous. They were invaders in the truest sense of the word; they spawned at the very entrance of an unfinished dungeon, and cleared it as any other delver would. It was even rarer for them to reach the boss chamber and defeat its master.

  ? If this was an Invader boss, then he knew one other thing. At least, he had a rumor confirmed for him. That figure was level five. Somehow, Invaders could always seem to cultivate the essence gained like a delver, and though it was never enough to give delvers enough essence to traverse an entire level, it always resulted in the Invader increasing its own level by one.

  ? “And he’s got a shadow affinity,” Roderic said, pursing his lips. “Which means it’ll be hard for you to keep its attention, Franklin.”

  ? The party leader shook his head. “At level five, it’ll be almost impossible. Rida, Ellen, you have any ideas?”

  ? The two brawlers who made up the third and fourth members of their party shrugged. Rida, the androgynous figure with a black porcelain mask and bulging muscles, leaned against the stone wall next to them as if they had not a care in the world. Ellen, the one with the two short swords and a short, spiky mess of blond hair, chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I’m not so sure this is a good call for us, boss. That one looks nasty.”

  ? “Maybe if we had someone with debuff magic,” Roderic put in, “we could lock him down. He doesn’t look that tough. A few good hits would finish him off, no doubt. The issue will be actually hitting him.”

  ? Franklin nodded his agreement at that, but still looked uncertain. Turning to Grim, he asked, “You’re sure there’s a secret in this chamber? It hasn’t changed since the last time you came here with a party, has it?”

  ? Grim used Camouflage again and studied the chamber. With his enhanced sight, he could make out more details in the dark cavern, as if it were brightly lit. He did notice the small plant hiding in the far corner that he’d spotted in his last run with a different party, but he also spotted the end of that bizarre trail he’d seen earlier. It came to an abrupt halt exactly where the invader was sitting.

  ? “The flower is still there,” he confirmed. Then, foreseeing Franklin’s next question, he answered it before it could be uttered. “And no, I don’t think you could sneak past him. Roderic would be the only one that stood a chance, but I’m not sure he could manage to get there, harvest it, and return without being noticed.”

  ? Franklin let out a quiet curse. That flower was the entire reason they’d taken on this particular dungeon. What was more, that flower had an estimated four or five percent chance of even spawning. If they left now, there was no telling how long it would take to get it again. The last two parties he’d lead through here had found it much quicker than expected, which had led to a local superstitious rumor that Grim had increased the chances somehow, and had led to this most recent job.

  ? “I need that damn flower,” Franklin muttered. “Dalia said if I got her a crystal-edged daisy, she could finish that Ironskin potion. It’s that or buy one on the markets, and I don’t have a few thousand gold lying around.”

  ? The rest of the party and Grim watched as he considered the options. Grim was satisfied with what he’d gained this delve, and wouldn’t complain if he chose to withdraw. He’d reached level four, and his share of the money had added a fourth digit to his personal wealth. At this rate, he was sure he could easily afford his new level four equipment already. But also, the rewards that an invader promised–and the payment for leading them to the flower–leaned him toward taking this risk.

  ? “Let’s do it,” Rida said, scratching the back of their head. As usual, their voice had a faint sibilance to it. “The rewards are too good to pass up. Plus, we’re not exactly fresh level fours. We’re all more than halfway to level five. You’re almost three-quarters of the way there.”

  ? Roderic shook his head slowly, but before he could speak, Franklin slung his shield across his back and drew the long-bladed dirk there. “You’re right about one thing. I won’t be able to keep his attention. Might as well be a backup brawler, then.”

  ? “Want me to be vanguard, then?” Rida asked, pushing away from the wall. Not counting Roderic, they were the most agile member of the party. “I can cover your gaps and keep an eye on the kid.”

  ? Franklin nodded. “Grim, stay back in this fight. If you want a share of the essence, you can enter the chamber, but please stay to the edges and don’t take any hostile actions.”

  ? “Well, then?” A voice, low and quiet like the hiss of a serpent, reached them from inside the chamber. While they’d discussed their options, the invader had lifted its head to stare at them with those flat, white eyes. “Are we to see if you possess the wit necessary to expel me?”

  ? “Of course he fucking talks,” Roderic snarled. Then, like Franklin, he slung his bow away and drew two long daggers. “That’s just perfect.”

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