Chapter 33

  Floor Seven

  The tunnel to Floor Seven led to a… cellar.

  “Honestly,” I said, looking around. “I was expecting something a little more dramatic. Perhaps a dessert kingdom, or a steep mountain path guarded by stone knights. This is… awesomely boring.”

  “You mean a desert kingdom, right?” asked Rel. Then, a little more exasperated, “Right?”

  I grinned at him.

  “You heard what I said.”

  Now I’m no expert on cellars, but the place was absolutely immaculate. Torches flickered brightly in their brackets, and I couldn’t see a single cobweb or speck of dust anywhere. The back wall was lined with stacked barrels and crates filled with bottles.

  There was a set of stairs in the corner with a door at the top.

  “Even though this cellar is awesome,” I said, “we should probably go and have a look around.”

  As I walked up the stairs, I discovered another small but pretty damn useful benefit of agility. I made it to the top without a single creak! If only I’d had that ability when attempting to sneak downstairs to raid the fridge as a child.

  The door opened into a small corridor. There were two other doors – one on the right and one at the end. I was about to ask Rel which one he thought we should try first when the question was answered for us.

  Muffled voices carried through the door at the end of the corridor. It was not possible to make out the words, but from the tone, it was clearly a very serious conversation.

  I looked at Rel and nodded questioningly towards the door. He just shrugged. With all the grace of ninja assassins, we made our way down the corridor.

  I went to open the door, but then paused, my hand hovering over the handle.

  “Do you think we should knock or something first?” I whispered. “I feel a little rude just barging in.”

  “Well, if the other Floors are anything to go by,” said Rel. “The people on the other side of the door are likely to attempt to kill us in the most gruesome way possible. Do you think we should knock and give them time to prepare?”

  Fair point.

  I turned the handle and shoved the door open like I was part of a badass SWAT team about to raid a drug den.

  Well, I intended to shove it open. Instead, I sent the thing rocketing through the air and crashing violently into the wall.

  There were a few surprised gasps, and then the room fell silent.

  We were in a tavern, which would explain the kegs we’d seen in the cellar. However, it did not appear to be business as usual. All the chairs had been moved to the sides of the room, and several tables had been placed in a single long row down the centre.

  Surrounding the mega table was an assortment of… goblins?

  They were around five feet tall, with dark green skin and eyes like empty black orbs. Their noses were long and crooked, and judging by the few who stared at us open-mouthed, their teeth were small, vicious-looking jagged spikes.

  Their appearance might have been rather terrifying if it weren’t for the fact they were all dressed so damn stylishly. They had the attire of simple villagers: farmers, labourers, and people who were very familiar with a hard day’s work.

  It was like looking in a mirror.

  Assuming the mirror made you shorter, green, and completely distorted your facial features.

  There was also the fact that once the initial shock had passed, they broke into broad smiles like they’d just seen a long-lost friend. They raced over to greet us, forming a rather excited and enthusiastic crowd. They were all trying to speak at once, so it mostly sounded like garbled nonsense. However, there were a few words and phrases I heard repeated over and over.

  ‘The lord…’

  ‘Champions…’

  ‘Save us…’

  Rel hopped onto my shoulder and raised a paw.

  The volume faded, though the excited murmuring didn’t stop altogether. Honestly, I can’t remember another time people were that excited to see me. Either my old life was more depressing than I’d realised, or these goblins were seriously desperate.

  “We are indeed champions. In fact, some might even say the greatest of champions,” said Rel. “But you need to calm down and explain what’s happening here. If we don’t know what the issue is, how can you expect us to help?”

  His words seemed to bring a few of them back to their senses, and an elderly goblin stepped forward. He was a little shorter than the rest, his age causing him to stoop slightly. He hobbled closer, using a cane for support. Adjusting his round-rimmed glasses, he squinted up at us. I noticed he frowned slightly when he studied my outfit, but his concerns seemed to be dispelled when he noticed Rel’s wizard hat.

  He nodded and then turned to face the crowd.

  “Will you fools quit your jabbering,” he wheezed. “What sort of welcome is this for our champions?”

  His gaze drifted to a goblin wearing an apron.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Govrek,” he continued. “Go and fetch a meal and drinks for our guests. We can explain the situation while they eat.”

  “Yes, Mayor Tarlin, at once,” said Govrek before pushing his way through the crowd and disappearing through a door behind the bar.

  Mayor Tarlin swatted at the assembled goblins with his cane, forcing them to clear a path.

  Following him to the table reminded me of being in a supermarket on a Saturday morning. You go in expecting it to be quiet. Instead, it’s packed with old people shuffling along with their trolleys, and somehow every single one of them is heading in exactly the same direction as you. You want to overtake, but there’s not quite enough room to do it without looking like a complete asshole.

  The table was littered with scrolls and parchment. There were diagrams of what looked like a large, walled village. They were all titled ‘Greenhollow’ and had been heavily annotated, notes scrawled beside different sections with comments such as ‘reinforce this wall’ and ‘weak point?’. There were also a number of lists detailing food supplies, equipment, and manpower.

  It seemed they’d turned the tavern into a makeshift war room.

  The question was – who were they fighting?

  “I’m sure the Lord has already filled you in on the basics,” said Tarlin. “But I’d be happy to give you a more detailed overview if you’d like.”

  “He has,” said Rel. He was so convincing that I almost believed him. “However, I believe information is always more valuable when it comes directly from the source. Start from the beginning and explain everything.”

  Tarlin nodded approvingly.

  “I’m very glad to see the Lord has sent champions who are both diligent and brave,” he said. “Very well.”

  He paused for a few moments, his eyes losing focus as he organised his thoughts.

  “Have you seen the rift?” he asked. “If not, that’s probably the easiest way to begin my explanation.”

  The rift?

  After confirming we hadn’t, Tarlin led us – at his infuriatingly slow pace – out of the tavern.

  It was early morning, the sun still low in the sky. It was much cooler than Floor Six, and there was a crisp, wintry bite to the air. The goblins who escorted us from the tavern had picked up thick winter robes as we left, and even wrapped up in those it was clear they were cold.

  Me? In my entirely-inappropriate-for-the-conditions peasant garb? I wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

  Thank you, durability. You’re a good friend.

  The goblin village quickly reinforced the idea that these Galactic Entertainment Corporation people were big fans of the whole medieval shtick. It was essentially a miniature version of Oakreach – thatched roofs, cobbled streets and whatnot.

  Goblins rushed about, making last-minute preparations for whatever was coming. Many of them stopped to gawp and mutter among themselves when they saw us, but judging by the excited expressions on their faces, I guessed they were happy to see us.

  I noticed several teams hauling large pieces of timber, and we quickly learned why. A wooden palisade surrounded the village. The stakes were sturdy and around seven feet tall. The goblins were carrying out repairs and reinforcing weaker sections of the wall. At regular intervals, small wooden platforms had been erected so they could see over the stakes.

  It was to one of these that Tarlin led us.

  A few goblins already stood on the platform, staring fixedly into the distance as if under a spell. When I stepped up beside them, I understood why.

  The rift was fucking menacing.

  It was an enormous oval of chaotic blue energy that pulsed and flickered wildly. It constantly expanded and contracted, and the intensity of the light seemed to change at random. One second it was so bright I had to squint; the next it was so dull it looked like all the energy had been drained from it.

  “It first appeared two days ago and has been growing ever since,” Tarlin said softly, studying the rift. “The Lord sent one of his sorcerers to investigate. He told us it’s a dimensional portal. He sensed hostile presences waiting on the other side and believes that once it stabilises, they’ll be able to pass into our world.”

  “And the Lord’s sorcerer couldn’t do anything about it?” I asked.

  Tarlin shook his head.

  “He said the amount of power required to create such a portal is incredible, and it would require the combined might of all the kingdom’s sorcerers to close it. With the war taking place, there’s no way they could be spared to handle such an insignificant matter.”

  “Insignificant?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the portal. “I wouldn’t call that big fucker insignificant.”

  “Neither would I,” agreed Tarlin. “But to them, the fate of a few small villages means nothing. The sorcerer says the portal won’t stay open for long – the energy required to sustain it will be too immense. They believe whatever comes through won’t have enough time to reach anywhere important before it closes. All the Lord could promise was that he’d send champions to aid in our defence.”

  “What a bunch of dicks,” I said. “But don’t worry, Tarlin. Rel and I are here to save the day.”

  Rel and I are here to save the day…

  Wow, we’d basically become a superhero duo. We needed a theme song of some sort…

  Rel and Pete, Rel and Pete,

  The greatest heroes you’ll ever meet,

  Peasant garb, wizard hat,

  Brave and stylish, imagine that,

  One throws fire, one throws hands,

  They’ll ruin the monsters’ evil plans!

  “Indeed. We’d be happy to fight on your behalf,” said Rel, his lips curving in a smug smile. “But I can do you one better than that.”

  He raised a paw and reality groaned as a black tear opened in the air in front of him.

  Fuck, yes.

  * * *

  The villagers looked on with a mixture of horror and awe as Commander Osian strode through the portal. I’m not surprised. You know when you see someone and immediately know they’re a badass? Sometimes you can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, but other times it’s abso-fucking-lutely obvious.

  Osian belonged in the second group.

  The guy was a hulking skeletal warrior – seven feet tall and with the sort of build that requires you to turn sideways to fit through a door. And even then, it’s a struggle.

  And if that wasn’t enough, his divine plate mail looked incredible. It suited him far more than it did that douchebag Azzarath. Excuse my flowery description for a moment, but gazing upon it was like staring at moonlight hammered into steel.

  His seven knights followed closely behind and formed ranks in front of Rel before kneeling.

  “My Lord, it is very good to see you again,” said Osian. I felt very honoured when he turned to me and gave a respectful nod. “And you, Pete.”

  “Commander Osian,” said Rel grandly. “You look magnificent in your new armour!”

  I don’t know how I could tell, but I’m fairly certain Osian would’ve blushed if skeletons were capable of such a thing.

  “Thank you, Lord,” he said, rising to his feet. “It was truly the most generous of gifts.”

  Osian examined his surroundings, pausing briefly when his gaze fell upon the palisade.

  “Do we prepare for battle, my lord?” he asked. “What do you require of us?”

  Rel gestured for Tarlin to explain the details to Osian. The skeletal knight nodded thoughtfully as he considered the goblin’s words.

  “Thank you for your explanation, Tarlin,” said Osian. “Please give me a tour of your defences. If needed, I shall offer suggestions on how they can be improved. It will also help me plan how best to utilise my knights.”

  I watched in amusement as Osian attempted to walk beside Tarlin. It was a bizarre miracle that he still managed to look dignified while shuffling at a snail’s pace.

  I glanced back towards the Rift and then almost fell off the platform when a system message appeared.

  Quest Assigned: Greenhollow’s Heroes?

  A dimensional rift has opened near Greenhollow. When it stabilises, hostile forces will pour into this world. Defend the village from four waves of enemies.

  If Greenhollow falls, the quest fails.

  First wave spawns in: 00:59:59

  Upon defeating a wave, you will have one hour to prepare for the next.

  Reward: ???

  Protect the village to find out.

  Holy shit. A quest?

  Sweet.

  I looked over at Rel, and judging by the look on his face, he’d just received the same message.