The Strongest paused, ignoring the angry muttering of the audience. “We have two groups of trainees: highborn and lowborn, both groups receiving the best training my order has to give! One group,” he faced the highborn, “has been an honor to train, and I expect them to do great things!” He turned to the lowborn. “The second group has been as lazy as they are stupid!” There were loud mutterings and boos from the audience. “When these two groups fight, you will know where the rot in this city is located! And you will do what must be done!”

  The Strongest left the podium to loud, angry boos and hisses from the crowd. A few even threw things in his direction.

  In the past, when the highborn arranged a fight between the highborn and lowborn, they at least pretended to keep the fight fair. This fight was so stacked in the highborns' favor that it couldn't even be considered a fight, making it crystal clear where the so-called rot of the city was located.

  The guards standing between the two groups of fighters withdrew, and the referee threw a red flag into the arena. “Begin!”

  Anda stood amidst the shouting and chaos, his heart a black pit of hate. Highborn did whatever they wanted, got whatever they wanted; if they got hurt or sick, a healer was always standing by to make them better. Lowborn got nothing. If they got sick or hurt, they suffered, and there was nothing they could do. With this on his mind, he came up with a plan. It was a long shot, but they had nothing to lose.

  “I have a plan,” he told the others. “You'll know if it works. I'm your weakest fighter, so if I fail, you're no worse off.”

  He ran forward until he was halfway between his people and the highborn. He threw back his head and shouted. “Assp spoke to me!” He pointed at the highborn. “He said you were weak! I challenge your leader to single combat!”

  Silence fell upon the vast audience.

  The highborn warriors started laughing.

  ***

  Jeremy woke up in extreme pain, dimly aware of Flint shouting something.

  His neck was swollen, and he was having difficulty breathing.

  YOU HAVE BEEN POISONED! showed up on his stat sheet.

  As he opened his eyes, he saw a horse-sized scorpion standing over him. It had stung him on his chest, stomach, and legs, and he was bleeding from many wounds. If it weren't for his poison immunity and enhanced physical status, he'd be dead.

  Squeak was draining the scorpion's life force for all it was worth, while restoring some of Jeremy's health. At the rate Squeak was draining the scorpion's life, the scorpion would die in a couple of weeks.

  Techniques and training regimens from the skill book Jeremy had just absorbed overwhelmed his mind. The skill book wasn't enough to turn him into a Sand-Monarch-style martial artist, but he knew what he should do and how it should feel when he did it. He also knew his body would require a great deal of practice and training before he became proficient.

  The scorpion lashed out with its stinger. Without thinking, Jeremy dodged, rolled away, and forced himself to his feet.

  While there was no way he could have killed a sand monarch, the scorpion in front of him was manageable.

  The scorpion lashed out again with its stinger, and again, Jeremy dodged. The scorpion advanced, trying to cut off his head with its pincers. Jeremy dropped. This time, he grabbed a pincer and used it to block the scorpion's stinger, twisting until it came off with a loud crack. The scorpion screamed.

  Jeremy slid beneath the scorpion's belly, punching upward, but causing only minor damage. The scorpion jumped backwards, attempting to cut him in half with its remaining pincer. He grabbed its second pincer, twisting it off as well. This time, the scorpion's stinger connected, punching through his skin to enter his belly again. After the number of times he'd been stung, he barely noticed.

  He tore off three of its legs, getting stung once more, but forcing it onto its back. He stood on the scorpion's armored belly, dodging its stinger, and he stomped until he cracked its shell. He drove his hand into the shell, felt its pulsing heart, grabbed it, and squeezed with all his strength. The scorpion twisted around, striking Jeremy yet again, before finally dying.

  “Scorpion steak, my favorite,” Jeremy croaked after he'd regained the strength to move and the swelling on his neck receded to the point he could breathe without effort. Thankfully, no more scorpions appeared. It seemed to be a dungeon law that the more you needed a healing potion, the harder it was to obtain one. He didn't even bother to pick up the scorpion steak when he left for his shelter. He was too exhausted.

  It was night in the desert, and there were only two suns in the sky as Jeremy lay on his cloak after taking three healing potions.

  “Jeremy, why?” Flint asked, looking anguished. “Why are you trying so hard to die?”

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  “Squeak!” Squeak said for emphasis.

  “After pushing me to fight the first scorpion barehanded. I'm not sure you should be talking.”

  “I pushed you to risk your life because that is how you get strong, Jeremy. It is one thing to risk your life and quite another to be stupidly reckless. Once again, I can hardly believe my luck in your not being killed.”

  “How was I supposed to know that would happen?” Jeremy protested. “I thought it was something like Book, but one that would give me martial arts advice. I didn't realize it would be... that.”

  “The book cover had CAUTION on it.”

  “So? In this insane dungeon, CAUTION usually means you don't have to worry. Anyway, I wasn't planning on reading it; I just wanted to take a peek. I figured it was like cigarettes, where the caution label means if you smoke for eighty years, you may cough up a lung or something; otherwise, you're fine.”

  “There are a lot of dangerous things in the dungeon to get you killed that don't have CAUTION on them. When you see a caution label on anything in a dungeon, you don't mess around with it until you find out why. In addition, I was about to tell you before you opened the book that magic instruction books can help you learn skills quickly, but if the book's teachings are incompatible with your body or skill set, it can drive you insane. For example, if The-Order-of-the-Sand-Monarch skill book was meant for a four-armed being, or one with tentacles, it would fill your mind with useless techniques. And once you absorb a skill book, it's impossible to remove.”

  “Fine. Maybe I should have been more careful.”

  “Maybe?”

  Jeremy sighed. “Okay, okay. You are right. In the future, I'll be more careful and won't mess with strange objects without examining them carefully or conferring with you or Squeak.”

  “This is a truly momentous occasion,” Flint said. “Jeremy Tidely Wilkins said I was right. I will remember this day always.”

  “Shut up, Flint. Keep guard, you guys. I'm turning in.” Jeremy turned over and was out.

  The next morning, all four fake suns were in the fake sky, and it was so hot he could have fried an egg in the shade of his makeshift shelter. In addition, he had another bout of mana sickness.

  When he was strong enough, he drank a bunch of water and poured some over his head. That helped a little.

  He wondered what had happened to Anda, the boy from the distant past whose memories he'd shared. From his perspective on the boy's situation, the punishments the boy and his group had endured were the secret training techniques of The Order of the Sand Monarch. The punishments were far too specific to be anything else. Perhaps Anda's fight wouldn't be as one-sided as it seemed. I thought my childhood was bad. Poor Anda.

  Three days later, Book had something to say.

  During your adventures, you may encounter a skill book. Unlike a normal book, like myself, a skill book puts the skills and knowledge directly into your mind. Caution should be used when using a skill book. First, make sure it has a skill you actually want. If not, it's better to sell the skill book, since it's valuable to the right buyer.

  If you want the skill offered, be sure to absorb it in a safe place. You may be unconscious for a day or more. It would also help to have a friend watch over you when you do this. Assuming you have any friends?

  "Now you tell me?" Jeremy closed Book.

  His heat resistance had merged with his cold, electric, and acid resistances to become elemental resistance: 6 (max).

  “What's with all these max's?” Jeremy grumbled. It was a concern

  Flint was absent, Squeak didn't respond, and he knew Book would give him some generic response about raising his Attributes. He wondered if an increase in Vitality would raise his maximum elemental resistance, but that was a problem for another day.

  He also noticed a new category under passive skills on his chart: Discipline. Under this category, his melee weapons skill had merged with his ranged-weapons skill and his unarmed-combat skills to become The Child's Way of the Sand Monarch. Novice Trainee: 1. What that meant in the greater scheme of things, he wasn't sure.

  He would explore every nook and cranny of this desert until he uncovered this floor's secrets. But first, it was time to train.

  He found a secluded location among the rocks. This would be where he would train for the time being.

  Some techniques from the skill book were similar to what Clown Lord and others had shown him, but they were far more in-depth, and they came together in ways they hadn't before. He had a better understanding of how to counter a weapon-based attack or combine attacks for maximum effect.

  First, he stood on a flat rock and practiced the movements in the air to familiarize himself with them.

  According to the skill book, he should be strong enough to harden his body by punching a stone surface. He punched the boulder, making a solid thud. “Ow.” He pulled back his bruised fist, wondering if the skill book was wrong.

  A voice went through his head. “The sand monarch does not fight for honor, glory, money, or pretty ornaments. The sand monarch fights to keep that which is his.”

  He punched the boulder harder this time, performing his body-hardening exercises, striking it with his fists, hands, fingers, elbows, knees, and feet.

  “Squeak!” came Squeak's warning.

  His training had attracted another car-sized monster scorpion.

  This scorpion was much easier to kill than the previous two, now that he knew how. He made it chase him over the rocks, lured it to the same stone outcropping as before. When it attacked, he grabbed its stinger and pulled it off the rock face. This time, Jeremy jumped down after it, landing feet first on the scorpion's belly, cracking it open. Then, while the scorpion was still stunned, he reached in and crushed its heart with no damage to himself.

  This scorpion left him a gold healing potion. Figured.

  Afterwards, Jeremy explored the desert, looking for anything out of the ordinary. But the dungeon's secrets continued eluding him. Everything looked like desert and more desert; he saw nothing that might hint at a hidden section of the fourth floor of the dungeon. He forced himself to enter the cold section, but again found nothing of interest. He suspected the saurians were right; the key to the treasure was in the desert section. But where?