Dungeon Sniper

"Me? Kill you? Why?"

Roared the giant Orc boisterously.

Elysia and I had been led into a cozy cave and sitting with a fire lit in front of us. The host had prepared a roasted meat of unknown origin and gooey drinks that only looked like wine but smelled... it smelled.

"The days of hunting down weaker races have long gone. The war is behind us, or are they still bickering at each other at home?" asked the Orc as he chomped on the still uncooked meat.

"Meat?" the host offered belatedly with a trunk of a hand outstretched. I shook my head, feeling queasy. Elysia outright looked away and cleared her throat.

"By 'home,' are you referring to Level One?" asked Elysia with a strained gulp.

"Where else, Elfling?" chuckled the old Orc.

"How did you know we were from Level One? Originally, I mean. We passed through the other Levels, of course," I blurted in abruptly.

"The smell. You smelled like home. That is all," smiled the old Orc fondly, nostalgically.

"Good. I thought you were trying to sniff whether we were good food material," I laughed nervously.

"Well, if it were fifty years ago, you would have made a fine meal, both of you, indubitably so," grinned the Orc, showing his jagged, sharp teeth playfully.

Playfully on his side. I felt a chill spasming across the spine just by looking at his face.

"So, children, what brings you here?" asked the old Orc after devouring all of the unsightly meat.

"We're... passing by."

I closed my mouth and glanced at Elysia because she had been staring at me curiously too, not just now but for some time, coinciding with the moment I had started to have doubts on my journey, of its objective to be precise.

"Passing by? To get where?" asked the Orc poignantly.

"Good question... I'm still not sure."

"Are you lost then?"

"You can say that," I chuckled meekly.

"But yet you are still moving. And that is good, child. One is never lost when his feet are moving. Just as one is never bored when his arms are moving."

The Orc got up and swung his arms methodically, an after-meal exercise for him, I presumed.

"Right. And so I was thinking, maybe finding Alpha could, you know, make things more clear for me."

Elysia blinked at me. I had never told her of this plan, to anyone really. But I had been thinking, and I had come to the conclusion that I had to meet Alpha, face to face. For a long time, I thought he was a dead man, an unreachable death. But as I got to hear more stories and witness unbelievable structures and ecosystems of this world called Dungeon, I was beginning to believe that Alpha was still alive and well, goading me, waiting for me... testing me.

The old Orc stopped moving and stared at me.

"... You wish to meet Alpha?"

"If I could, yeah. Do you know where he is, or is he still with you—"

"No. He has left, a long time ago. I do not know where he is headed, nor do I want anything to do with him anymore," grunted the Orc angrily.

I took the cue and shut my mouth. It felt wiser not to press on the matter.

Elysia, however, was not as tactful as I thought she was.

"What happened between you two?" asked Elysia coolly.

The Orc turned sharply at Elysia, with angst and fire in his eyes. He calmed down soon enough, but the sudden tension on my shoulders ached on for a lot longer.

"What happened, you ask?" sighed the old Orc as he sat down on a rock resignedly, with a shade of sadness and disappointment flashing across his scarred, burnt face.

"What do you think happened? He bailed, again. Some comrade he was," scoffed the Orc.

And suddenly his face twisted with anger and fury.

"And he has trapped me here with the treacherous worm all by myself. Banished. Secluded! Me, the great Rafaqa, forever bound to an endless loop that will outlast my life and DAMN YOU, ALPHA! DAMN YOUR CHILDREN AND YOUR RACE, YOU SMOOTH-FACED, TWO-FACED, BACK-STABBING—"

The enraged living legend of the Orc race yelled at the ceiling of the cave in a frenzied anguish for the next five minutes or so.

.

.

.

"We called it the 'Impossible War' because, well, it is impossible to kill a dragon, under normal circ.u.mstances, that is."

Rafaqa had calmed down. He sipped on the highly suspicious, wine-colored drink appreciatively as he began to tell us what had happened here on Level Four in the past five decades or so.

Alpha and Rafaqa chased the last remaining dragon to here. That part was successful. Alpha shot down its wing, grounding it for good.

"And I severed one of its front legs," said Rafaqa proudly as he c.a.r.e.s.sed the only comrade he has at his side: the monstrous greatsword named 'Trilion.'

"Tri-lion? As in three lions?" I asked, sidetracked but intrigued helplessly.

"Melted three whole lions as the metal was forged. The smith also said that the blade could withstand a 'trillion' contacts."

"Neat."

I had zero doubt that it could.

Rafaqa's face turned grim all of a sudden.

"I do not know about trillion, but I must have clashed sword and claw against the worm for a million times now. The sword stands, but the fight goes on."

For fifty-freaking-years, the living Orc legend and the last living dragon were even matches. Neck-to-neck. A never-ending draw.

"So that's why you're mad. If only Alpha had stayed longer, you could've taken down the dragon together."

For a second, I feared Rafaqa would go on another outrage, but he kept his cool this time although his eyes still burned with hate and contempt.

"Stayed longer? How much longer? Longer than the half-hour he set foot on this Level and vanished right after? Through the Gate that he created, big enough for him to go through, big enough for him only?"

"Calm down, big guy."

"The bastard never cared about winning! He knew the dragon could not be killed easily, so instead, he lured me, promised me an epic battle beyond the home, and trapped me here with the beast all by myself!"

I understood then. Rafaqa was a 'deterrent.' Alpha set him up good. As long as Rafaqa and the dragon kept their fight in this barren, no man's land at Level Four, the other Levels were at peace. Alpha also knew that Rafaqa was not going to be killed so easily. But did he also know that the dragon was just as resilient as his Orc friend?

I had an idea he knew and had planned everything. The more I learned of Alpha, the less I liked the guy. Sure, quarantining the dragon for the sake of millions sounded novel. But to betray a fellow hero, a comrade at battle, a friend...

I looked at Rafaqa again. Big and strong, scarred but steady. He was an old Orc but still a formidable one, if not more lethal today than yesterday. As I said, the way Orcs aged was different from the other races: with slightly deteriorating physical abilities came elderly wisdom. Rafaqa, in theory, was still the strongest Orc warrior in the entire Dungeon.

But something in his demeanor hinted weakness, vulnerability. There was fatigue, sure, but there was something else. Something deeper, emotional—

"As much as I love to fight, I have fought enough."

Rafaqa sighed and rubbed his thick, rough hands restlessly.

"I miss my family. I miss my people. I just want to go home. You see, I left my infant son, Moraqa, and he should be old enough now to have a son of his own, my grandson, all grown-up too," growled Rafaqa moodily.

Elysia and I looked at each other, neither of us willing to let the distressed old Orc know the truth.

"Uh, Rafaqa? Sir?"

Elysia won, and I gave in to break the news myself.

"What I would kill to spar against my own grandson! I could teach him so many things, so many techniques, tell him all of my stories, share a drink, oh my, I could even deliver my own grand-grandson—"

"Yeah, okay, stop for a moment. You don't have a grandson, Rafaqa. You have a granddaughter."

There. I shut him up with that one. Rafaqa blinked at me, shocked and disbelieving.

"... I have a granddaughter?"

I could not tell whether the old Orc was disappointed or not.

"Yup. And she's quite a warrior herself too. The last time we met, she was the Orc champion for the Colosseum Ultimatum. And it seemed that everyone looked up to her. I don't know Orc politics, but she seemed like a clear-cut leader to me—"

"I have a granddaughter! I have a lovely, strong, charismatic baby granddaughter!" exclaimed Rafaqa, in jubilation that resembled the madness that we had witnessed far too often in the past hour or so.

"Sure. She's all of what you said," I smiled understandingly.

Rafaqa, beaming with hope and joy, turned to me and quickly took a grave, serious look.

"I have to go back home now."

A different kind of fire was lit in the clear, wise eyes of the old Orc this time.

"I understand—"

"No, you do not understand, Human child. I must go back. I know how. I just need to 'do' how now."

Premonition alert. I was seeing it all too clearly now.

"Let me guess. You have to kill the dragon in order to get out of this Level."

"Not 'you.' We have to kill the dragon, together."

... Why did I always have to be right on things that I least wanted them to happen to me?

.

.

.

"Alpha always had the ability to create Gates and their keys out of nowhere. He called it his 'Identity Skill,' something neither of the other heroes had."

Rafaqa was helping himself to another chunk of rotting, smelly meat along with the equally smelly drink. I felt my stomach growl in hunger and also in disgust. Elysia was in no better state than I.

"How convenient. So he could just travel across Levels as he wanted?" commented Elysia, trying to take her attention from the food that would never be called 'food' elsewhere.

The words 'Identity Skill' bugged me a little. Why did I not have such an ability? Then again, none of the other heroes had it, so maybe Alpha was just special... or all of the heroes had their own Identity Skills but just did not know they had them—

"Laikaan, for example, felt sure that he had his own Identity Skill too, so he spent years searching for it within him," said Rafaqa as if he had read my mind regarding the special skill's existence.

"Was he able to find it?" asked Elysia.

"He did. But he was not too happy about it."

"Why not?"

"Because he, and the others except for Alpha, learned that we had it all along. An amazing ability, no doubt, but nothing new."

The unimaginative but sharp Elysia understood before I did, naturally.

"The Exchange. The Gift," said Elysia in awe.

"Tell me, Human child, do your kind still resent Alpha for not bestowing them a Gift before parting?" asked Rafaqa sympathetically.

Alpha did not leave the Humans without any blessing or protection deliberately. He simply could not. He lacked the ability to do so unlike the other heroes.

And neither did I.

"... They call him the Hero that Bailed. That's just Level One. At Level Three, you and Alpha are a set and known as the Heroes that Bailed."

"Well, who can blame them?"

Rafaqa chuckled at my words.

"We never expect to be appreciated. We do what we have to do as our destinies dictate us. Do I want to risk my life and give up spending time with my family to hunt down the pest that will be a threat to the world as long as it breathes? It is never what I want, children. It is always what has to be done. Our inner selves drive us, and it is not only foolish to resist the wave that carries us but more often than not inexecutable, impossible. The best way is to live through it, ride the current, and embrace who you are. "

Rafaqa's words invoked another wise hero's words in my heart, and it seemed like the perfect time to tell him about Benedikt's death.

Rafaqa nodded calmly as he listened to Benedikt's sacrifice at Level Two.

"Benedikt was always the selfless one among us. That is, as long as he had enough beer to himself. Beer, the one thing he was selfish about," smiled Rafaqa fondly, sadly.

As much as I felt good telling Rafaqa the heroic ending to Benedikt's life, I felt uncomfortable how smoothly the old Orc took the information in.

"Wait. You're not curious at all about how I know all of this? What makes you think that I'm not making up stories about Benedikt, Level Two, Olothi—"

"Are you?" asked Rafaqa patiently.

"No. One hundred percent true story."

"And I believe that too. You may be wondering why I am not questioning you, opening up to you like this even, but you do not have the eyes that I have. To me, you glow with a hero's aura of your own... and someone else's. Ah, Mataki. Olothi's lover, was he not? I recognize his presence, albeit faintly."

So I had to explain my short but meaningful bonding with Mataki. Again, Rafaqa listened without interrupting me, nodding at the end in respect to the lesser Goblin hero's final hours.

After a moment of silence, I spoke up.

"So, we have to kill the dragon."

"Yes, we do."

"Don't tell me Alpha hid a D-Bug inside the thing's heart."

Although that sounded like something he would do.

"That sounds like something he would definitely do, but no, he did not have the time or means to pull that off... thankfully," said Rafaqa.

"But you're saying that we still have to kill the dragon?" asked Elysia.

"Yes, only because its death will create enough energy for me to create the Gate and the key."

Elysia and I blinked at Rafaqa.

"But you said only Alpha can—"

"I did. But if you live as long as I do, you pick up a lot of Skills and Perks that appear useless at first but only become useful in the most unlikely, doomed situations."

Rafaqa raised his hand and muttered inaudibly.

Elysia and I both took our breaths as a faint, but familiar, gold glow appeared on his palm, in the shape of a 'dragonfly,' a—

"D-Bug. But how?" gasped Elysia.

And right away, the specter of a gold dragonfly disappeared.

"I once killed a Reptil who was... he used magic but he did not call himself a mage like the others. He called himself a magician, an illusionist. A real shady fellow. And this Skill is what I got from him."

Mimic, Rafaqa added.

"I saw Alpha creating the Gates and the keys often enough to replicate the results. The only problem is I lack the inner magical power that Alpha possesses. I am a warrior, not a mage. And to supplement my lacking magical power, the dragon's death will create enough energy surge around the area for me to create multiple Gates and keys... Theoretically speaking, of course."

Rafaqa's last words sounded bitter, and I had an idea why.

"Did Alpha tell you that before leaving?"

"In the air, with his hand on the Gate. 'You should be able to do it just fine on your own, Raffy! See you on the other side!' I will kill him on the other side," grumbled the betrayed Orc.

Elysia and I let Rafaqa settle down for a while before asking the real question.

"Do you have a plan? A specific plan to take down the dragon?" asked Elysia poignantly.

"The plan is for me to chop down its neck while you... take care of some minor details."

Elysia and I exchanged uneasy glances.

"What 'minor' details?"

Which sounded nothing 'minor' at all.

Rafaqa scratched his chin, half-embarrassed, half-reluctant.

"I hate to admit, but it is simply impossible to take down the worm all by myself."

"Yeah, we figured," I scoffed.

"Is the dragon that strong?" asked Elysia seriously.

"Not as strong as I, mind you. It is rather the—"

At that moment, a shriek of a cry was heard from a distance. More shrieks followed, approaching closer.

"Perfect timing. I will show you rather than explain to you," said Rafaqa as he got up and picked up the greatsword Trilion, battle-ready.

"Show us what?"

"The minor details."

Rafaqa led us out of the cave, and we were staring down at the barren plain below the cave entrance. There was nothing on the ground for me to look...

But plenty on the sky, swarming and shrieking and flapping their wings wildly, frantically.

"... What are those?"

"The dragon's minions. Drakans, I call them."

The Drakans were humanoid winged-creatures with the head of a dragon and body of a regular Orc. Their skin color resembled the fiery, orange sand of the wasteland below them.

For a moment, the entire world seemed to be burning with the blue sky covered with the army of coppery Drakans.

"Those flies always get in the way. I need you to take care of them as I fight the worm."

"You mean, kill them all?"

"Yes. Easy, right?" smiled Rafaqa encouragingly.

The Drakans were drawing near, and they seemed nothing like easy.

"Ah, the worm. For something so ugly and nasty, it always knows the right time to send down some food."

I almost let Rafaqa's appreciative comments pass by, but Elysia did not.

"What do you mean 'food?'" asked Elysia, looking pale and already regretting that she had asked.

"What do you think I survived off of all these years on this wasteland? Now, you saw that they smelled not much, but you get used to them after a while."

The smell. It came back, gagging me just by thinking about it. Now, I could not pass out with an army of half-dragon soldiers coming on our way.

Elysia, on the other hand, turned, bent over, and puked uncontrollably.