Multiple primed flashbangs, an experimental crowd control item of the likes Jelena was prone to ‘borrow’ from the Battletower, went off at Calaf’s back.

  A ‘Resist!’ notification filled the Interface.

  Prodigious Endurance stats, bolstered by many recent level-ups obtained, protected the Squire’s sensitive ears. With all eyes focused on the party, everyone else was afflicted with a laundry list of ‘Blinded’ and ‘Percussio’ status effects.

  A pre-Paladin’s hearty constitution once more paid dividends. Calaf remained behind his new tower shield, striking out at dazed, deaf, sightless foes. Fireballs flew across the room and dissipated against a barrier that the ‘Fallen Cleric’ manifested at all times.

  Everyone stumbled about, weapons raised and swinging at nothing. A few blows rapped against Calaf’s shield by chance. Calaf’s counterattacks took swathes of health away from the gang of thieves.

  The blast of a gunshot rang through the desert caverns. Jelena accidentally slammed into Calaf’s shoulder, causing him to whiff a spear thrust at Honest John’s butler. She’d swapped her eyepatch to her good eye just before everything went south, then hastily swapped it back into place

  “’Kidu! Don’t go too crazy with the sword.” Jelena yelled too loudly; the flashbangs having temporarily scrambled her hearing.

  Enkidu, for his part, swung that cracked and ancient blade with reckless abandon, keeping the unbranded thieves’ posse, the cleric-thief, and a gaggle of lesser-tier thieves at bay. The wild man’s reputation preceded him, and none dared approach.

  “Stick to the plan.” Honest John was the only other member in the brawl unfazed by the flash-bang. “I’ve accounted for this.”

  The Branded among the thieves applied a sleek oil to their weapons. Applied by Interface, it required just a quick flourish of their blades. The unbranded group retreated to the back to wipe their blades down in oil and resin the old-fashioned way. Newly buffed and emboldened, the crew advanced.

  Calaf’s shield kept a full one-eighty-degree swathe at bay. He rushed forward with a surprise shield bash, which Honest John deftly dodged. The shield flattened his butler against the wall.

  Dungeon diving through three of four church-arbitrated dungeons had left Calaf flush with strength. A surprise experience notification popped up. Indeed, he’d gotten a jab in on most of the assailants in the room. And these were at-level foes. As Enkidu let loose, it wasn’t long before Calaf received yet another level-up notification.

  More shots rang out amidst clashing steel. A smoke bomb flew long and exploded in a cone of opaque fog in the corner.

  “These swords have some kind of paralyzing agent,” Enkidu said.

  Not being one to dodge, the wild man had already taken a few hits.

  “Noted.” Jelena went back-to-back with Calaf. Her knives parried incoming blades. Even when a swift counterattack didn’t kill the Brand-empowered enemies, they at least left the thieves hurting enough to force them to keep their distance.

  If the paralyzing oil had any effect on Enkidu, it did not manifest in decreased lethality. He thinned out the numbers of two bands of thieves cocky enough to try and face him with the debuff. He was moving his sword like an extension of his hand, however, evidence of lost finger dexterity. The wild man was strong enough that he hardly needed nimble swordplay; he could just cut great swathes through the air, scattering all assailants.

  From across the room, Calaf locked eyes with Honest John.

  “Have too many people in here to fry everything with a flare?”

  Infiltrating the Demon Lord’s Fall alone would be a tall order even for the conman. John had no plans to share in his bounty of the church’s coffers, Calaf was certain. Still, he needed this ‘second thieves’ guild’ for patsy reasons. And that meant he couldn’t just fry everyone with a giga-flare.

  Another shield bash cleared the way for Jelena to rush over and challenge the other lady-thief. Zilara was busy throwing lightning at the cleric and the Fallen Cleric. With Enkidu having to dodge blows from paralyzing agent-infused weaponry now, his pace slowed. Calaf trudged forward, his shield up and spear ready to strike. He thrust with his steel Fort Duran-issue spear, only to have it cast aside with a parry from a familiar face.

  Mikail, former resident Scout from Calaf’s old war party, mercifully avoided the follow-up strike.

  “Strictly business.” Said the thief.

  Calaf moved in for an unparryable shield bash. Mikail activated some high-level Thief ability that turned him invisible. He snuck away on silent steps to avoid the swinging shield.

  “C’mon. Gael and the others are all dead,” Calaf said.

  A sharp pain struck Calaf as a slender knife pierced his armor from behind. Health dropped forty percent in an instant. Calaf countered with another shield bash, which hit nothing but air. Then, a second blow from behind left Calaf down on one knee.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Gael’s gone?” Mikail said, still invisible. “Well, that’s a pity. Hard to see anything taking him down.”

  The cutpurse was still nowhere to be found. Even his voice emanated from nowhere.

  If only Calaf had a few more levels. He could gain the Paladin’s immunity to backstabs. As it stood, he was hovering around twenty percent health. He felt no effects from any paralyzing agent. Whatever ingredients were used in that concoction were not meant for him.

  Just then, a bright red Interface-inflected arrow appeared over a barely perceptible shimmer against the wall.

  “My savior!” A new figure ran into the melee.

  “Yonah?” Calaf asked, struggling to his feet.

  Cleric Yonah looked at Enkidu, who’d just finished clearing the room with a mighty sword swing. She pointed at Mikail’s marked form. Enkidu leaped and swung at the thief even in stealth. Mikail dodged, only to walk into a shot courtesy of Jelena.

  The thief yowled, still invisible and with a stealth-ruining marker above his head. With renewed vigor, Calaf delivered a shield bash that sent the former friend sprawling against the wall. A trail of blood marked Mikail’s retreat.

  Thieves fled. That Fallen Mage and the lady thief's party were still in the fight, but aside from that it was just Jelena’s party… and Honest John. Being in close quarters with the conman could be hazardous to anyone’s health. Bad things happened when John pulled out his room-clearing flares.

  “Hey, you. Guy with half a face.” Zilara snapped her fingers. “Look what I found at the Battletower.”

  A miniature sun appeared in Zilara’s hand.

  “Guess we’re beating you at your own game,” Zilara said with her signature drawl.

  Honest John grimaced, the glamour ring and mask warping the left half of his face. It took just a moment for John to make a decision, and he took off down a hallway.

  “I can’t mark that one,” Yonah said.

  No doubt a consequence of the curseblocker ring.

  “Never mind. Just stick near Enkidu. Leave this one to me,” said Calaf.

  Still injured, Calaf ran after him. A thief from that lady-burglar’s posse got in the way. Calaf cut him down with a spear-thrust. Another level up notification followed, and Calaf was on the chase.

  Honest John, once more, fled. And Calaf, again, chased after.

  The halls of this old thieves’ guild hideout were long, snaking under and through this rock outcropping. But Calaf had been here before. He knew the place well enough to know they were headed towards a lower storage and docking zone. Many of the doors remained broken and unrepaired. It would take years to convert this place into a proper guild hideout.

  Honest John encountered a fork in the tunnels and juked right. This was the same corridor where Calaf had encountered Metzger long ago. Now John was running down the hall Jelena’d been temporarily trapped in during their last trip to the thieves’ guild.

  Calaf’s Lockpicks of the Thief allowed him to scan for traps even as he made chase. A straight away awaited, with a thick door at the other end that would take time to open.

  Twice before Calaf had tried chucking a spear at John as he fled. Now, though, he had another idea. Calaf threw his wide shield down the hallway. A vertical wall flew down the narrow tunnel, hitting John from behind and sending him toppling to the floor. Calaf leaped upon his fallen foe and delivered a mask-shattering punch with his mail-coveerd fist to John’s face.

  John countered with a kick that contained more force than it ought to. Some form of magic enhanced his blows. It was enough to push Calaf back and allowed John back to his feet.

  Bullet lightning missed Calaf by a finger’s length. With spears less effective in close quarters, Calaf stashed his weapon and delivered many more body blows to John’s person.

  They were in a row of jail cells, really just cage-pits built into divots in the walls. The pair continued their fisticuffs for many minutes. An Interface notification informed Calaf that his armor was damaged – some other trick of Honest John’s.

  With his gloves at their limits, Calaf reared back and started headbutting John’s broken face. Honest John’s nose broke. Calaf kept headbutting until, satisfied his foe was off balance, he grabbed Honest John by the neck with both hands.

  “C’mon. We need at least one posse to hand over to the church.” Honest John gurgled. “As bait. To gain entrance to the grand cathedral. We could use that Fallen Cleric, I suppose.”

  Calaf squeezed harder. A knife sank into Calaf’s arm, piercing the armor. Still, Calaf kept up his death grip.

  “Dire-rat.” Calaf scowled. “Everything you’ve ever done since I’ve known you involves burying a dagger in someone’s back.”

  “It gets results, doesn’t it? You church-school boy scouts don’t understand. Every tithe, transaction, or barter. There are no partners, only winners and losers. Even transactions you have with a merchants in the market. If you haven’t noticed someone getting one over, you’re probably the one getting conned.”

  Calaf punched John in the unblemished side of his face. A great welt formed, though it was nowhere as bad as the degloved side.

  “Come now, you need me,” said John. “I know you and the cyclops have been searching for ancient church relics. How else do you expect to get into the Demon Lord’s Fall without a fully operational thieves’ guild?”

  “We’ll find a way,” Calaf said.

  “The others will all have the same idea,” John said. “Come. Let’s use them as decoys. A sacrifice so we can achieve our objectives. Surely your woman would agree--”

  Calaf backhanded John again.

  Figures moved in Calaf’s peripheral vision. It was Jelena and the party. Jelena held the others back. Calaf let go of John’s neck. The conman landed on his feet on the floor. They were standing right next to one of the jail-pits.

  “Well, at least you can listen to reason.” Honest John adjusted his collar. He brought out a hand. “It’s a mark of a wise man to know when to team up against a greater threat. What do you say?”

  The offered hand hung there in the air, waiting for Calaf’s shake.

  Calaf looked through the Menu, searching for moves or techniques to use. He settled for a simple kick, off-Interface. The blow sent Honest John sailing into the oubliette, while the impact forced the grate closed. Calaf turned to the rest of the party.

  “We’ll get into the grand cathedral without him,” the squire declared. “And even if there’s no other way to get in, I’d rather give up the chase than breathe the same air as him even for a second.”

  Jelena’s eyepatch had slipped off during the recent bedlam. She readjusted it, then grinned.

  “Spoken like a true Paladin,” she said.

  Calaf smiled back.

  “Besides.” He summoned forth several months’ worth of trail rations from his Inventory and let them all fall through the grates in the cage’s roof’. “If we need anything, we’ll know where to find him.”