Standing up and stowing the canteen in his pack next to a once again napping Dusk, Terry stretched, rolled his neck, and yawned.

"Okay," he said, "let's go fight a boss goblin."

"Did you really just yawn?"

"Yeah. Why? I'm already bored with this whole dungeon excursion. I just want to get it over with so we can get the special rocks."

"I don't feel like you're taking this seriously enough."

"I just punched that solid stone wall like thirty times to get some ammo. I'm taking this seriously."

"I hope so," grumbled Kelima as she stood and drew her sword. "I guess I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be."

Nodding, Terry and Kelima stepped through the door into the open room. No sooner had they crossed the threshold than two stone doors that hadn't existed a moment before slammed shut behind them. Kelima gaped at the now-sealed entrance to the room. Terry just shook his head a little and scooped up some smaller stones in each hand.

"Look, these things are going to appear any second now," he said. "Pay attention."

"Right," said Kelima, refocusing on the room around them. "Do you know what's going to happen?"

"If we're lucky, everything we'll have to fight will show up right at the beginning. Then, we just kill our way up the food chain to the boss."

"If we're not lucky?"

"We'll get three waves of lower-level goblins. Then, we'll get the boss. Or, if we're stupidly unlucky, we'll get three waves with a middle-strength boss in between, followed by the actual boss. A boss who will inexplicably double in strength after we beat on it for a while."

"Why?"

"Because people like the number three? How should I know? That's just how some dungeons work. But, I'm hoping it'll be the first kind. That'll go a lot quicker."

Terry felt the shift in the atmosphere when the minor goblin horde appeared. He felt a brief surge of triumph when he saw a much larger goblin sitting on a kind of throne behind the small horde.

"Yes!" he shouted, thrusting a fist full of rocks into the air. "Looks like we're getting the one horde version. Okay, I'm going to thin the herd a bit."

"Thin the herd?" she asked.

Terry ignored her and flung the rocks in his right hand at the goblins. Unlike in the corridor, he didn't do much to moderate his strength, preferring speed over restraint in this situation. Everything stopped as a V-shape of carnage appeared in the middle of the horde. Several goblins out front simply exploded. As did several behind them, and several more behind those. Foul, green goblin blood fountained into the air and soaked the still living goblins. It was only about halfway back through the mob of monsters that the rocks simply punched through the creatures instead of obliterating them.

"Oh, my gods," said Kelima, pressing a hand to her mouth like she might be ill. "That might be the most disgusting thing you've done, well, today anyway."

"Everyone's a critic," said Terry, and launched the second handful of rocks.

All of the remaining goblins on the left side of the room died equally gruesome, if swift, deaths. That left maybe a dozen of the lower-level goblins. At least, Terry thought they were lower-level. It was kind of hard to tell. He almost killed those, as well, but thought better of it. Instead, he drew a sword in each hand and pointed at them.

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"Your job is to kill, oh, let's say three of those. I'll get the rest."

"What about the big one?" shouted Kelima.

"It won't do anything until the small ones are all dead. Again, I don't know why. So, don't ask. That's just how things are. Plus, it'll be stupid. Don't get used to that, though. They'll smarten up fast as we go. Now, go get your goblin murdering on."

"I'm suddenly less-than-enthused," she complained.

"Well, they're enthused," said Terry, pointing at the charging goblins.

Taking his own advice, Terry darted toward the approaching monsters. He found that even his mediocre-quality swords were far superior to the garbage the goblins were using. One swipe was generally enough to shear straight through their weapons, flesh, and bones. It was kind of satisfying since he wanted to get out of the dungeon as soon as possible, but he also found it unsatisfying. He wanted to feel good about killing monsters, not like a bully with anger control issues.

"Needs must when the devil drives, I guess," he said after decapitating the last of his monsters.

He turned to look at Kelima, who had already managed to kill two of her three. Deciding that she wasn't going to need any help, he walked over to where the goblin boss was sitting. Positioning himself right next to the makeshift throne, he drew back a fist and waited. The second that Kelima killed the last weak goblin, a red glow enveloped the boss, and it let out a bellow.

"Who dares—"

Terry knew that, in video games at least, bosses often enjoyed protection until they launched an actual attack. The books he'd read often adopted that as a working model. However, there was nothing saying he couldn't try to subvert that irritating device. After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He threw his punch. The red glow shattered under the force of the blow. His fist connected with the side of the goblin's head, and Terry found himself once again covered in blood, bone, and brain matter.

Even if these things were magical constructs, it seemed this dungeon was invested in a certain level of verisimilitude. The stink dropkicked his olfactory nerve, which was more than enough to send him stumbling back. Not that moving away helped. The stink wasn't coming from the goblin boss's corpse. It was coming from the goblin corpse parts that were stuck to Terry. Kelima took one look at him and thrust a finger in his direction.

"You stay over there until that stuff disintegrates!"

Terry gave her a malicious smile. Then, he opened his arms wide and started walking toward her.

"Kelima! Dear involuntary traveling companion, you seem deprived of affection. Come and give me a hug."

The next few minutes consisted of Kelima screaming bloody murder and trying to evade Terry while he halfheartedly gave chase. If her panic wasn't so damned amusing, he might have tried a little harder to catch the girl. However, it seemed inevitable that being smeared with goblin corpse fluids would trigger a far less entertaining rage. Kicking that off in a dungeon seemed ill-advised. It was a place they couldn't just leave at will. Nor did he think she had the power to successfully beat it on her own if she stormed off and got lost. Hence, he confined himself to the minor amusement of chasing the shrieking noble.

He finally gave up the game when the goblin bits and goo started to disappear from his clothing. He heaved a sigh of relief at that. It hadn't been a sure thing that would happen. Somewhere in the back of his head, he'd been worried that coming into contact with an actual person would make the blood and brain matter permanently real. Rarely had he been so happy to find out that notion was wrong. At least, it was wrong in this dungeon. It stood to reason that it might work differently in some other dungeon. Not that he'd ever willingly set foot in another dungeon. These things were always a pain in the ass.

When the last of the goblin bodies finished transmuting back into magic, or cosmic mist, or whatever the dungeon did with them, Terry gestured at the source stones scattered on the floor.

"You know what to do with those."

Kelima eyed him warily before nodding and walking toward the stone. He walked over to the throne, where he found a source stone the size of a small plum.

So, if I absorb this one, will it do something for me? Terry asked other-Terry.

There was a brief pause while the magical construct in his head presumably reviewed Terry's memories and magical impressions of the stone.

I don't know if it'll actually make you stronger, said other-Terry, but it'll be good practice. Help you learn to navigate the unspeakable suffering that's coming up.

What unspeakable suffering? demanded Terry.

I didn't say anything about unspeakable suffering, demurred other-Terry in a very unconvincing voice. I said discomfort. Just a bit of mild discomfort.

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