The force of Charlemagne’s Strike was so great that the Feral Desert Prophet was split almost cleanly into two halves. The severed pieces flew through the air and into the murky darkness of the Lippity Dungeon.

  “Good show, our illustrious leader!” Phatagin cried as he and Bridget cheered on the rooster.

  “Got him,” added the mosquito with glee. “That’s gotta be one of the cleanest Dungeon clears in the history of…ever. No, it has to be the best: the boss managed the entire thing in two attacks without taking any damage. The System has to give us some good stuff now! Check your messages!”

  Bridget was correct: the Squiggles had indeed returned with a number of announcements. The first ones were related to the spoils of the combat itself.

  The rooster was pleased with the numerous notifications of his continued growth. This was as it should be: he would continue to fight, eat, and mate his way to power. While the lack of mates remained infuriating, Charlemagne was contented, for the moment, with obtaining the most that he could from the Dungeon. As he reviewed the messages left by the Squiggles, he sauntered over where half of the Dungeon boss’ body had disappeared. After a few moments of searching, the rooster located his next meal. The upper half of the Feral Wilderness Prophet disappeared down the enormous rooster’s gullet in a trice. The Squiggles rewarded the abject gluttony of the act.

  “Hey boss, can I have the other half?” Bridget asked as she flew circles just above the rooster’s enormous head. Charlemagne, still riding a surge of dopamine from all the positive messages he had just received, readily assented. Phatagin broke in quickly as the mosquito buzzed off to feast.

  Wait! I need a bit of blood and tissue to complete my Quest!

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  How much is a bit? Bridget asked.

  The pair quickly divided the remaining half of the Dungeon Boss. When they were finished with that bit of business, Phatagin spoke up again.

  Since we have cleared this Dungeon completely, I propose that we remain here in order to evolve our classes in safety, especially since they will be useful if we find that the canine pack is waiting to ambush us when we depart. If you are amenable to this, I will go first.

  Charlemagne thought about the possibility for a moment, vaguely concerned about something in his subconscious that he couldn’t quite put a claw on. Extending his senses across the Dungeon, he realized that he had no reasons to worry. While the majority of the attacking rabbits had been completely carbonized by his overpowered mana blast, there were still dozens of corpses ranging from rare to well-done. Once he finished his Class Evolution, he’d be able to eat and recover his strength.

  Bawk, he agreed.

  Can I go second? Bridget asked, her mental voice as quiet as a whisper.

  Bawak bawwk, he announced through the link.

  Sounds great, boss,” Bridget sent back at her normal volume.

  Of course, the mosquito can go second. I have a feeling that yours will take the longest, anyways, added Phatagin.

  Bawk? Charlemagne asked, suddenly curious.

  Oh, well…I guess there’s no reason why Bridget and I can’t initiate the process simultaneously. That way, you will need to guard both of us, but we will return the favor immediately thereafter, the pangolin responded.

  Sure thing, boss. More efficient that way, the mosquito added. Just give me a minute to finish draining this boss. I think it’s making me smarter! Not that I need to be smarter, ya know? But still good.”

  Charlemagne and Phatagin waited patiently until Bridget finished her meal, and she rejoined them, looking rather like a tiny black balloon wafting through the air.

  I still do not understand how you can distend yourself so, the pangolin remarked as the bloated mosquito landed on the ground between the other two Champions, the high-pitched whine of her wings echoing through the dungeon as they strained against gravity.

  Eh, you get used to it. Besides, it’s good for me. And who knows? Maybe all the feeding will unlock an option for a Special Ability that will let me steal Skills.

  That…that would be frightening, especially if you started acquiring defensive skills. Once you were latched on to your opponent, most creatures would be unable to dislodge you.

  That’s the plan! Ok, gotta focus here. See you on the other side, pangy-poo.

  The pangolin wisely ignored the deliberate provocation and began to concentrate on his own Class Evolution. After just a few moments, a sphere that appeared to be composed of yellowish-green hexagonal scales started to form over the pangolin’s body, starting from underneath Phatagin and growing rapidly upward. The scales appeared to be made of keratin, but threads of a metallic looking substance that alternated between dark green and light blue were interwoven throughout. There was a rustling sound punctuated by satisfying clicks as each hexagon grew rapidly before being locked into place. In no time at all, the pangolin was completely enclosed, blocking off any attempts to observe what was happening inside. Even Charlemagne’s powerful mana sense was unable to see past the outer shell.

  Less than a minute later, Bridget’s transformation began. The still engorged mosquito was enclosed within her own shell, but unlike the pangolin Champion’s, hers was composed of shining black chitin speckled with small red, green, and blue. Like Phatagin’s her barrier grew from the ground up, but, instead of interlocking polygons, her sphere seemed to extrude itself bit by bit from the existing portions, forming one congruent piece with no seams. There was a snapping sound as the final gap at the very top was closed. The rooster attempted to penetrate the mosquito’s sphere with his ability to perceive mana, but Bridget’s shell, like Phatagin’s, was impenetrable to Charlemagne’s mystical vision.

  Annoyed at his failure to see what was going on with the Party mates, the rooster wandered off to have a snack, picking only the rarest rabbits for consumption since they were the tastiest. The bodies of the slain bunnies were delicious but not very filling, and the issue wasn’t entirely due to the rooster’s current size. Charlemagne was actually slowly shrinking despite the mana-rich snacks, which showcased just how much energy was required to sustain his enlarged form. No, the problem was that the bodies had been generated by the Dungeon and were only partially real. Once they had been slain, the mana that had gone into their creation began to return back to the Dungeon, minimizing the total energy cost of each Dungeon run and allowing the monsters to be recreated for the next set of challengers.

  While the rooster was snacking, he asked the Squiggles for information on his Class Evolution options.

  Long minutes passed as Charlemagne considered his options, alone save for the unconscious and concealed forms of his Party members. And then, he made a decision.