Dungeon Sniper

"I'm pretty sure that's cheating."

"Yeah, I think so too."

The beautiful Reptilina blinked her exotic eyes with vertical irises at me. I tried to lock eyes with her, but I might have occasionally scanned her half-n.a.k.e.d, scaly golden upper body once or twice—every five seconds.

The Orc officiator had led me to Laania's room five minutes ago. The two Orcs outside were probably thinking that I was asking Laania to end her life, as per the right of the victor who had felled her in a match of Colosseum Ultimatum,

I was not going to kill her, of course. I was here for another reason.

Laania had tensed when she saw me coming into the room. I, too, had tensed, as I had forgotten how revealing her attire, or the lack of it, was. She looked as if she were wearing a tight spandex, but I knew that was just how Reptilian skin looked naturally. I knew so because I could not find her n.i.p.p.l.es—not that I tried hard to spot them—through the scaly cover, which I assumed with some disappointment that I would never understand the anatomy of Reptilinas completely... or would I?

Overall, she still looked gorgeous nonetheless, if not a little unearthly, as I had seen her out in the arena as long as I could ignore that she had the lower body of a snake instead of two legs.

"You have come for me, then," Laania had said resignedly.

"Were you expecting me?"

"Not eagerly. All right. How do you want to do it? Will you do me, or do I do it myself?"

For a dizzy second there, I might have gotten the wrong idea. A very wrong and s.e.x.u.a.l idea.

But the thought of fighting against the strongest Orc and Goblin in Level One in less than half an hour had brought back and focus. Besides, Elysia was lying on a bed covered in bloodied bandages and who knew what kind of ointment Kevlon had provided for her.

"By doing you, if you mean 'killing' you, you can relax. I'm not here to kill you. Neither now nor ever."

"Why are you here then?"

I had checked the door behind me and led Laania as far away as I could from the possible eavesdroppers.

"You know there's a match coming up, a three-way fight?"

"Yes?" Laania had frowned suspiciously, nervously.

"It's simple. I want you to do something for me, nothing much, but it's going to help me win the tournament, unfair and unsquare, if you know what I mean."

"You want my help winning the match?"

"Yes."

And we came right back to the beginning of the chapter, where the beautiful Reptil sorceress was blinking uncomprehendingly, and adorably, at me.

"I want to say I would like no part in it. We Reptils are many things, but we're no cheaters."

Seriously? Said a woman who was half-snake. Perhaps in the Dungeon, snakes were benevolent, warm-blooded creatures. But again, the Dungeon did not have their Adam and Eve, so the snakes never really had a chance to showcase their chicanery. Good for them, I thought.

"I'm sorry for asking such dishonorable thing, but you're my last option. Either I win and end this stupid Colosseum madness with just one casualty—oh, that poor Dwarf, I don't even know his name—or Moniqa becomes the Panchampion and slaughters all of us."

"Not me. She can't kill me. Only you can."

"Yeah, well, I see that your Orb has no sound either. There was a deal, and I kind of told Moniqa that she can kill you if she lets me stay in this thing."

"What?"

"Before you get mad, you have to see that it's the only way. No one has to die when I win the whole thing. I'm not doing this to save my a.s.s. I'm doing this to save yours too."

"No. You're doing this to save the Elf champion."

"I thought that part was obvious."

Laania did not say anything for a moment. She seemed to be considering her options, which were just two at the moment. Either ignore my request or help me as I asked. Simple as that.

"Why did you save the Elf champion anyway?" asked Laania abruptly.

"We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"It's funny because I had the same conversation just out in the hallway."

"Do you love her, the Elf girl you saved?"

I blinked.

"I like her. I'm attracted to her. But seeing I'm going through all ends for her, not once but twice now... I must be in love, right?"

"You're asking me? I barely know you," scoffed Laania, but not unpleasantly.

"Do you have a lover, Laania?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I thought if you could relate—"

"I've had lovers. Of my own kind. Not your interracial soap opera kind."

"Wait. How do you know soap operas?" I asked incredulously, almost certain that I had misheard.

"How do you know soap operas? Do you have the Orb at home?"

I was getting more and more curious about the Reptilian society.

"I would like one now."

Laania stared at me skeptically before shaking her head.

"Personally, I think interracial relationsh.i.p.s are disgusting."

"Okay, then," I shrugged sheepishly.

"But I may have a soft spot for romantics," smiled Laania coyly.

I smiled back in relief. Sure, it was sensible for Laania to help me. After all, her life was at a stake too. But I wanted her full commitment to what we were about to do, and now I had it.

"So, are actors in your soap operas also terrible? Because where I come from—"

"Aren't we a little pressed for time to discuss the quality of soap operas? They're shitty, by the way."

Just as I thought.

"So I have this plan, but I have to ask you something first."

"Can I ask you a question first?"

"You better make it quick because you're the one said who said we're pressed for time—"

"I know what I said. I just wanted to know why you didn't kill me then, at the match. You could've shot the arrow, or even stick a sword into me. I wouldn't have known I died from all that... vapor I drank," grimaced Laania as she seemed to be recalling the hazy incident with Kevlon's poisonous potions.

"Well, your scale looked tough, I wasn't sure I could pierce it with anything," I shrugged casually.

"That's... anticlimactically practical," frowned Laania.

"And I wouldn't dare kill such a beauty like yourself."

"Now you're pushing it. Let's get back on this plan. What do you have?"

"Besides, I had promised myself I wasn't going to kill anyone the moment I realized what I was in for."

"So you wanted to be a bloodless Panchampion?"

"No, I just didn't give a damn."

Laania blinked first and then nodded approvingly.

"I think I'm getting to know you. Beta, was it? I don't think I would ever like you, but I'm digging your vibe."

"Latinas. Reptils are Latin people. I see it now."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't mind me. Just making a mental note. So where were we?"

"You were going to ask me a question before letting me in on your 'plan.'"

"Right. Here's the question: how good are you with wind spells?"

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.

.

Yes, I was going to cheat and rig the match, but I was not going to be so obvious about it. One could say there was an art to cheating. And the art was to never get caught. The ingenuity had to be shrouded by the veil of mystery.

Had I ever cheated as a pro gamer? Even if I had, I would never tell anyone about it.

The art lived on.

The three-way semifinal match would be conducted with three champions on the arena, as everyone would expect it to be.

As I walked into the arena, I felt like a magician. My hot female assistant was in her room, busy in her own way.

Moniqa and the Goblin champion were already standing on their spots, showing their backs to the supporters of their own races.

The Colosseum was deafening with the roars and cheers. I thought I had gotten used to the noise, but it felt as if the audience grew in size with each round of the tournament.

It really was an exciting, if not unpredictable, system. The three-way fight was the semifinal, but as soon as one champion was either dead or unable to compete, it would instantly become the final match between the two remaining champions.

The match could take hours, even days, if the standoff stalled for too long. On the other hand, the Panchampion could be determined within minutes, seconds, depending on what kind of random, sinister turns of events took place in the secluded, closed arena.

Well, not so closed, as I had demonstrated in the first round that a champion could climb the wall and even fly out of the Colosseum if he chose. The rules would dictate that the fight would not be stopped as long as the runaway champion stayed on any part of land or water within Level One.

I was not thinking about running, of course. That would not be cheating, but mere cowardice. There was a fine line between being a cheater and being a coward. There was a pride in the former, believe it or not, but not in the latter.

And I knew more often than not that I was too c.o.c.ky for my own good. Pride was my second nature. Cheating was more like a guilty p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e, as in some people drank, others cheated. Along those lines.

Moniqa and the Goblin champ stared at me warily as I stood on my spot. I could be wrong, but the cheer for me was considerably less loud. Lots of boos, though, but still a lot quieter than what I had heard when I saved Elysia and got her safely disqualified.

But I knew why the crowd was not as loud as it wanted to be. Both the other champions and the keener of the audience were eyeing the change in my gear.

Acquired:

Kite Shield

Oversized Cloak

Moniqa and the Goblin champ were also carrying shields of their own, probably to protect themselves from my missile attacks.

Not big enough, I thought with a suppressed smirk.

"The semifinal round begins! Moniqa of the Orcs versus Zataki of the Goblins versus Beta of the Humans!"

Before the Orc officiator even finished his sentence, both Moniqa and Zataki took out their shield and ran—toward me.

Did I expect that I would be targeted first? I had hoped not, but I had to be ready for anything. And it made sense, in a way. Both Moniqa and Zataki were traditional fighters who excelled at close combats and melee weapons. I, on the other hand, was a complete anomaly. Would anyone want to fight a flying, poison-chucking, rope swinging archer? I would not want to face me either, to be honest.

And it was clear neither did the other champions. For a moment I was tempted to take out the longbow, TJ, and fire arrows at them, if I could. But I knew that would be a total waste of arrows, let alone exactly what they wanted me to do. What if I turned my back now and shot grapple arrows over the wall? I had thought through that as well and concluded that either Moniqa would create a gust with her greatsword to throw the grapple arrows off-course or Zataki would throw his spear as I climbed the rope. They were almost goading me to take that action, slowing down with their shields still raised, daring me to make do what I did best: shoot arrows.

What they did not know was that I had neither the bow nor arrows with me at the moment.

I lifted the oversized cloak and revealed what I had hidden under. No bow, no quiver, no weapon of any kind. Well, at least no 'conventional' weapon.

First, it was the champions who looked as if they had seen a ghost. Then it was the audience facing me in the other direction, barely making out what I had with me.

"What do you think you are doing?" asked Moniqa, her voice shaking, presumably for the first time in her ballsy warrior life.

"The Human is mad," said Zataki, backing away cautiously, fearfully.

The crowd in my back still had not seen what was under the cloak, but the nervous, panicked murmurs and cries from the other side were slowly reaching them.

I took off the cloak completely and revealed what I had attached to my front torso as well as the back. I even made a turn to show the entire crowd so that they would not miss anything.

Four on the front, four on the back.

A total of eight Boom-Booms I had with me.

What? Boom-Booms again? What was I thinking, going out as a suicide bomber? Well, my two opponents might have gotten that idea. They had retreated back to the safe distance, not that any distance would help them in what would be coming for them in a few minutes.

No, I was not planning to die as a suicide bomber. I would always plan to live, first and foremost.

But the Boom-Booms would go off, not to send anyone to heaven, but in the same direction: up.

The crowd was still shocked to see such an untraditional, unexpected battle taking place before its eyes. I welcomed the silence as I took off the Boom-Booms and casually activated them.

"This is the most disgraceful Colosseum Ultimatum! Shame on you!"

"You have gone mad, Human!"

Moniqa and Zataki cried furiously but did not forget to hide themselves thoroughly behind their shields.

Meanwhile, I thew the Boom-Booms at my feet, much to the champions' confusion and some screams from the audience stand.

I was counting the seconds carefully. The Boom-Booms were tweaked to go off simultaneously in the most synchronized blast possible to generate the maximum impact. Going off in a chain reaction from one blast blowing the powder chamber in a serial manner would not work for my 'plan.'

Tick, tock, and boom.

Between 'tock' and 'boom,' I jumped onto the middle of the bomb pile, holding the kite shield with my dear life between the bombs and me.

Everyone either turned away or covered the eyes from the blast.

Me, I flew.

I flew high, without needing to climb or shooting grapple arrows.

I span in the air, almost unconscious, but I remembered that I had to spread my arms. I did not know why other than that I had to or crash to the ground in a few seconds.

The sky stopped spinning, and I was looking at the thousand airways guided by multi-directional breezes lifting me up above the Colosseum and near the giant floating Gate.

[Skill activated: Wind Reader]

[Skill activated: Aerodynamics Artistry - Level B]

Now, I was really flying, and for the second time.

And it felt good. I was alive, and that was the happiest feeling of all.

I glided down to the uppermost ledge, where I had placed the longbow and the quiver full of arrows before the match.

I looked down at the crowd and my two opponents down below. I did not need to Falcon Eye and zoom in to see the faces they were making.

.

.

.

"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard."

"I don't know, Laania, I've heard and done stupider, but I'm here."

Laania had seemed exasperated, but again she and I were not so close for me to care any longer.

"It's your life. But you should know that I can't control the wind. I can only 'conjure' it."

"And that's all I ask. But try to create the biggest storm you can make."

"Again, it's not a storm. Sorcery cannot bend the will of nature. We may only ask."

"Well, ask for a big-ass storm then."

"It doesn't work like that," hissed Laania irritably.

"All right. What kind of 'wind' are we talking about here, specifically?"

"Uncontrollable and unlethal. Something you would not like in your face when strolling through the woods, and definitely not something that I can guide you down to the ground at my will."

"I told you I wouldn't need your help while I was up in the air. I need your wind after I landed, on the ledge."

"I can only do so much."

"I just need a small twist of wind that's only as large as the arena and as strong as... are you sure you can't do tornadoes?"

Laania did not snap this time. Confining the effective grounds might have given her more leeway.

"I can't do tornadoes. But I can do a whirlwind."

"What's the difference? You know what, never mind. Just conjure the biggest wind you can, and let's hope for the best."

"Where are you going?"

Laania had caught me before leaving the room. The match would be held in less than ten minutes, and I had yet to place the longbow and arrows atop the ledge.

"Last minute preparation. You're sure you can cast spell away from the arena?"

We had agreed that it would be better for Laania to be not near the scene when this 'cheating' would take place.

"I start casting as soon as I hear the blast, right?"

Laania had asked nervously, a little unconvincingly too, but we had run out of time to worry.

"Yes. And hey, thanks, Laania, for the help."

"I just hope I won't be juggling your corpse in the air with my wind spell."

"At least you wouldn't have to see it," I had shrugged and left the room, barely catching Laania smiling faintly at my joke before the door closed.

.

.

.

Laania was being modest. She did conjure a storm inside the Colosseum. And precise, too. The spectators were relatively unaffected by the fast and thick helix of the violent wind. The ones inside the arena, however, were on their knees, clinging onto their shields with all their might.

"Five minutes. That's the maximum I can hold onto a spell," Laania had said, I remembered, and I had just nocked the first arrow of two quivers of forty arrows at my feet.

Acquired:

Traitor's Judgment

Quiver x2 - 40 'tranquilizer' arrows each

The two champions down under were experiencing hell. Up high on the ledge, everything was peaceful. I was even humming as I took a deep breath and activated multiple Skills at once.

[Skill activated: Falcon Eye]

[Skill activated: Wind Reader]

I swayed and almost fell off the ledge at the incredibly dizzying sight ahead of me. Thousands, no, millions of strands of wind-paths that were tangled and scintillating inside the micro-storm.

But time was precious, as ever.

I had thought I could spot the wind-path that would lead an arrow to my opponents and even circle around the shield to strike them at the back. But I now saw that it was no easy feat. So many paths, so many changes, and so many possibilities.

The two champions seemed pathetic now, crouching and cowering behind their shields, but once the storm was over, they would be impossible to fell with their shields protecting them from my arrows.

I tried once more, concentrating on the uncountable threads of wind paths for the correct, or even near-correct, directions for the arrows to land on the targets, preferably on their backs.

Time was running out. Not even two minutes were remaining.

I tried to remain calm, but I could feel the sweat coming off my forehead despite all the fanning wind down below.

The combination of two or more skills was taxing, and I realized that my stamina took a toll on its own. Falcon Eye deactivated all of a sudden, and the two champions looked like the size of ants now. I cursed and tried to activate the magnifying eye back but to no avail.

At that moment, through the shrieking winds, I could hear Moniqa yell—no, explode—in anguish.

"Impossible! Witchery! Duplicity!"

"By the Cycle, this is not normal!" cried Zataki, much feebly than the cursing Orcina, as he crouched down on the floor as if begging for the wind to stop.

The sound was soon swallowed by hissing winds, but the important thing was that it somehow penetrated through and across the thick wall of the tornado.

Then it hit me. There was an opening. The sound was carried by the wind moving in helical, upward motion until an airway opened up for me to hear it. One of the thousand, no, million strands of wind was able to deliver the sound from below right to where I was standing...

How about the smell?

[Skill activated: Scent Tracker - Level C]

[Skill activated: Echolocation - Level C]

I did not bother with Falcon Eye for the moment. I could see the two champions, albeit very small. It was not the distance that stopped me from taking down my foes. It was the direction, and directions can be detected in multiple senses.

[Secret Skill gained: Synesthesia]

For a brief second, my three senses narrowed into one particularly vivid, vibrant wind path, a thread. I did not miss the chance and let go of the arrow.

Before I could check whether the arrow was flying in the right direction, another path flashed. I fired again. And again.

The correct paths flashed five times before my stamina ran out.

Coincidentally, the storm was also weakening.

I felt no movement inside the dissipating storm.

And there, on the arena, lay Moniqa and Zataki, each with two tranquilizer arrows stuck on their backs, sleeping like rocks, face-down.

Where was the fifth arrow? I looked around and found the lone arrow circling the sky at the last disappearing vestige of the magical storm before spiraling down, slowly and then fast, to fall and stick right into the middle of the arena.

It was over. I sat on the ledge, fatigued beyond words. The Colosseum reverberated below me. I waved my hand lazily down at the crowd. I heard boos again, but I was not bothered by the least.

Once I got my breath back and gathered enough stamina to activate the Skills for the glide down onto the surface, I got up and jumped without sinking.

I wanted to see Elysia. The Colosseum was over, and that meant I could see her now, no?

The wind was rushing past my ears as I glided downward.

It was only when I landed on the ground with a stumble and bucked knees that I realized the crowd had gone silent again.

I turned sharply to the two champions. But they were still lying with their face down. Zataki was even snoring softly.

And then someone tapped me on the back—lower back—and I jumped and almost elbow-span the consciousness out of guy behind me.

Almost, because he was about two heads shorter than me.

I was staring at a Dwarf, aged and subtly transparent, who was, in turn, staring at my wingsuit curiously.

"What a fascinating design? To ride the wind, I knew one other Human who could think like that," exclaimed the good-natured Dwarf... specter.

"I'm sorry. Who are you?" I asked, but the Dwarf was too busy appraising the wingsuit.

"Decent. But not perfect. Now, instead of buttons, how about two interlocking metals that zigzag tightly with each other—"

The Dwarf was blabbering as if I were just some dummy whose only value lay in wearing the wingsuit.

I looked up and around the crowd to see whether the sudden appearance of the Dwarf was the reason for the silence, which had turned into nervous, hushed murmurs... facing at the sky.

I followed the fingers and the gazes of the spectators upward... and saw that the Gate was open, not completely, but just slightly and definitely.

I looked down at the spectral Dwarf again. He seemed eager to touch the wingsuit but he seemed to know that he could not.

Something about his face was familiar, although that was impossible. The only Dwarves I had known were dead, except for the one lucky dude who had escaped the bombing, and none of them had had a vaguely transparent body.

I looked around for help, but everyone's eyes were fixed on the partially opened Gate. The Orc officiators, the spectators, everyone.

But there was one individual who was just as confused as I was, if not shocked. That individual had never seen the Dwarf in his life either. He had only heard stories himself, legends, but he also happened to have memorized all the details of history, including the looks and idiosyncrasies of the most famous heroes.

Alstair's mind seeped inside mine, reminding me of the unexpected name of the Dwarf standing in front of me.

"Benedikt? The Benedikt?" I asked in disbelief.

What was happening?

Upon hearing his name, the legendary mastersmith looked up and frowned at me impatiently.

"What, kid? You want an autograph?"