There is no Epic Loot here, Only Puns.

Hazhur stood outside the boss door of floor 36. Even in this false memory... this illusion, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of how he was caked in blood and covered in wounds.

“B-Boy,” Ivan croaked as he laid against the wall. His left leg and arm were missing and Hazhur had run out of materials to bandage his stumps with. The floor underneath them was an almost perfect blend of naturally growing ivy and glass shards one would find in an old church window. It made it dazzle to shine light on, but unbearable to rest upon.

Inside the Boss room, sounds of fighting could be heard. The sounds of cracking glass, roaring fire, and waves of mana rolled out from under the door.

“I don’t understand,” Hazhur whispered, turning to Ivan with a hollow expression.

“It was bad luck, Hazhur. It happens,” Ivan said quietly. Hazhur gripped his only remaining weapon, his side knife. Of course... it was the only weapon he didn’t actually bother using.

“Bad luck?” Hazhur echoed and turned to Ivan fully with agony and fear on his face.

“Bad luck killed all of team 35? All of them? Juni? Maratic? Nips?” he demanded of the dying man.

“The Twin Dungeons have a reputation of being highly unbalanced due to their dual-nature... some floors can be mastered with fire or ice... have flying beasts too heavy to fly...,” Ivan said, coughing as he tried to sit up.

“But rarely... horribly... the two natures meld perfectly together on a floor. No fighting, no arguments... no inefficient designs. Then the Dungeon’s true terror is unleashed,” Ivan said, flexing the fingers on his only remaining hand.

“Does it still have two bosses per floor? How is that fair?!” Hazhur cried, falling to his knees, ignoring how some spines of the ivy buried into his knee. Ivan’s hand fell on Hazhur’s shoulder.

“Dungeons aren’t fair. My boy... it's down to humanity to make it fair, but we’re so few and the company is only one. Still, it was my judgement that pushed us on... not yours,” Ivan wheezed as he closed his eyes.

A tremble shook the ground as the fighting inside the Boss room intensified between the monstrosity and the Fair Maiden.

Even their beauty, the striking blaze of Brilda’s spear and the life blooming around Ghulana’s staff couldn’t bring back Hazhur’s dead friends.

Brilda of Summer who struck with a lance of the sun.

Ghulana who seemed like an elven princess that stepped out of a story book.

Ivan inhaled once more as the bottom of his shoes began to hiss and break apart. Hazhur snapped into action, trying to lift the heavy man off the Dungeon floor.

“Boy... let go,” Ivan said with a soft tone. Hazhur took a few steps, but the ivy made the ground uneven and in Hazhur’s mind, they slithered with eagerness.

He tripped and Ivan rolled away with a groan, his eyes half-lidded as his sleeves and broken sword hilt on his hip broke apart.

“Stop wasting what time I have left and listen to me,” Ivan commanded as the last of his life fled his body.

Hazhur looked up to the ceiling, covered in so much of his friend’s blood, his heart now filled with so many of their dying words.

He wanted to scream, but he listened instead.

“Wait until the Maidens are done then go back... collect our pay, all the teams as one then get out of this business. I was hoping to scare you off, but the Dungeon did it for me,” Ivan chuckled, teeth red.

“The sum will be big and the Maidens will vouch for you... take the money and find a purpose, boy. Get drunk, make mistakes, have a fling or two... get a tattoo somewhere you’ll never show anyone you won’t make love with,” Ivan insisted, gripping Hazhur’s hand hard.

“But what if I end up back in a Dungeon?” Hazhur whispered, wishing he could vanish instead.

“Stick to ones with five floors or less... they aren’t crazy,” Ivan said simply and exhaled before he pulled out a coin. Hazhur nearly snorted when he saw it.

“That old trick?” Hazhur had to ask incredulously.

“One last time,” Ivan said before he moved his hand and the coin was gone.

“It’s gone,” he said seriously, “then it's back,” he announced as the coin reappeared in his fingers as if by magic.

Ivan made it vanish again.

“Gone...”

It reappeared.

“Back...

He made it vanish and his hands trembled.

“Gone...” he said with a whisper.

The coin hit the ground and rolled away... absorbed moments later.

“Come back,” Hazhur pleaded as his mentor broke apart into mana motes and was gone moments later.

“Back... come back...”

“It’s sad...” came a girl’s voice.

“It’s alive,” countered a boy’s voice. Hazhur snapped his eyes up to see two glowing orbs of green and blue, encircling him.

“They brought strong people. Not fair... I don’t want them to have the rewards!” the blue orb, the boy maybe, announced.

“But they’re winning?” the girl pondered.

“One uses Yal’s power! How is that fair!?” the boy countered.

“Not fair! So we don’t give them the rewards... but they must be rewarded!” the girl whispered. There was a pause as they seemed to look down at Hazhur, holding a knife at them.

“No... we only need to reward ‘someone’,” the boy countered with abrupt glee.

Hazhur watched as they came closer and closer, he didn’t want to see what happened next, but just as they were about to touch him... the green and blue were split apart by a basking warm orange sun that seemed to melt the scene away.

He was resting in a strange room where the universe seemed to be compressed. Someone gentle ran a hand over his cheek. Under him, some bag filled with soft squishy pellets comforted his body.

“Well... hello there. You seemed like you were having a bad dream so I guess I accidentally brought you into mine,” the kind woman said as she looked down at him, her neck length hair and odd tie dangling down to touch Hazhur’s chin.

She was beautiful in a way that wasn’t ‘perfect’ like he had seen some mages or elves strive for, but her looks spoke of her pride in her dimpled cheeks and slightly buttoned nose rather than shame.

“Who are you?” he asked, wondering if he drowned in that frog’s hotspring and was going to some higher plane?

“Delta. I presume you’re currently on a trip through my Dungeon?” she replied and Hazhur tensed, but after a moment, managed to sit up. A core? The Dungeon itself pulled Hazhur from the memory?

“Your Dungeon is beyond weird and it makes me uncomfortable,” he said bluntly, sinking into the bag against his will to a comfortable place.

The woman gaped before she inhaled, making a notepad and pen appear.

“Well, I appreciate feedback where I can get it. Was it Nu? Did Nu drop you into the fish level?” she asked and Hazhur twitched.

“The fish level is... a thing, but...” he trailed off as his hand turned transparent.

“Sorry, first time someone’s done Luna’s trial and I don’t sleep often so I’m pretty new to the dream magic thing. I didn’t know I could do that with anyone... I thought it was just Al,” she mused and Hazhur fell off the bag to reveal it was in the shape of a giant mushroom with a large zipper across its brim.

“If you’re asleep... who's running the Dungeon?!” he asked, fearful that another ‘twin’ core was occurring before his very eyes.

“Nu, my partner in crime... Mharia for guests... Fera to keep people in line... Wyin to scare people... I guess Jellagon to dish out some court justice if need be,” Delta listed with her fingers.

How many cores did she have?!

“The important thing is that you rise to the challenges and remember-” Delta jumped down and pushed Hazhur’s cheeks up with her fingers.

“Try to smile. My Dungeon isn’t your enemy. Just don’t become ours cause I just finished my second great war and I really need a break,” she said, her tone becoming bedraggled towards the end.

“How does a Dungeon have a war without going corrupt?” Hazhur whispered as Delta stepped back with a hum.

“You make me mad and the rest just sort of... happens. So, be on your best behavior! I’ll check on you when I finally wake up. I was in this awesome dream where I was having tea with a Unicorn-Centaur cross princess who had the best dirty jokes ever,” Delta proclaimed as she began to fade.

Hazhur wanted to question... well any of Delta’s statements, but found himself awake back on the second floor as Rale inhaled his big beefy chest to give Hazhur more mouth-to-mouth aid.

“Stop!” Hazhur threw his hands up in protection.

There was a sigh of relief as Luna peered down at him.

“You were nearly pulled under by your pain, but you also faced it,” she said and Hazhur looked at her.

“Why didn’t you give me air then?” he croaked. Luna looked away, abashed.

“A lady never kisses before she’s ready,” she proclaimed. Rale smacked his chest.

“Mouth-to-mouth is an art and I mastered it!” he added and there was a sound like a branch high up snapping followed by something hitting the soil nearby and Estal choked, turning red.

Hazhur stared for a moment before he decided to keep his strange fever dream of Delta to himself. He was now half-convinced it was an image his brain projected on the verge of drowning.

His cheeks tingled from where Delta made him smile and he mimicked her, pushing his own face into a strange smile

Luna coughed.

“Well, four for four... I must admit I am surprised!” she smiled and spread her fan open to waft air at herself softly.

“First... the Key of the Moon,” she declared, pulling a key out from inside her sleeve. It was a simple long silver key that had a crescent moon-shaped head.

“And for an additional reward...” Luna said with a smile as she pulled out a potion that shimmered on its own. It didn’t look like any market-branded potion that Hazhur had ever seen. Silver was staring at it, but Karn was busy soaking back in the hotspring, half-listening.

She handed the potion to Estal who eyed it suspiciously.

“When you face the tree of pain, use the potion for an advantage you will gain,” Luna said and walked into the mist with a giggle.

“It’s a special brew so don’t lose it,” she cautioned.

“Tree of pain? Like a Punching Pine or a Bashing Birch?” Karn asked curiously.

“This tree doesn’t just hurt you physically,” Rale said wisely as he turned to the massive yawning tree in the distance in which gates could be seen under its roots.

“She also hurts you spiritually, mentally, and wittles down your confidence if she’s really bored,” he announced.

Hazhur didn’t like the sound of that.

Rale then pointed in the other direction, towards what looked like a giant cliff wall.

“You’ll find the second key trial would be that way and closer than the other two you may attempt,” he said and bowed.

“Any hints?” Estal asked politely, batting her eyes. Rale thought about it.

“If you must stay awake later than your normal bedtime, drink water and distract yourself with a good book,” he saluted and jumped into his boat to push off dry land... through dryland.

This Dungeon hurt Hazhur’s head.

“Does anyone notice something about ‘that’ direction of the Jungle?” Karn asked and Hazhur paused. Towards the giant tree and something that looked like a cave, birds sang, giant bees buzzed, and life was normal.

The way Rale pointed was dark and deadly silent.

“Well... if Rale says go that way? We go that way,” Estal said and walked forward with her staff held out at the ready.

Hazhur couldn’t help feel that while the jungle was silent... they were being watched at all times by little shakes in the trees; branches that shifted or undergrowth that rustled.

Countless eyes... all on them.

---

“Any result?” Seth demanded and Quiss looked up from under his bed with a scowl as Alpha waited uncomfortably in a nearby chair.

Quiss’ shack was a lot... longer on the inside. It stretched on a little, bending space in odd ways.

“I’m looking, you prissy water fart,” Quiss warned and threw books around with agitation. Alpha hadn’t meant to cause any trouble.

“Book was present from once-teacher!” Seth threw his hands up. Quiss turned, snorting smoke out his nostrils.

“And where is yours then?” he demanded. Seth looked away.

“Lost it in whale,” he muttered.

“Indeed, so shut it,” Quiss turned back and reached for a book that was being used to support his bed to keep it even as one of the legs looked... chewed.

“Aha, here it is!” he said and Alpha read the cover with his head tilted.

“Mage names and their potential meaning, volume 4. Pending volume 5-” he read, but Quiss’ hand covered the name of the author.

“Exactly. Our teacher noted that several names popped up over again and again through the years,” Quiss muttered as he flipped through the pages.

“Firstking... Firstking...” Quiss said, flipping the pages then he reached for another book under the bed, the third volume.

“Kingprotector. Kingseeker. Kinglicker? That’s not right,” Quiss said before going straight for volume one.

“I can give it back, the name I mean? I don’t want to cause trouble,” Alpha offered, standing up but both Mages spoke at the same time.

“No.”

Alpha sat back down.

“Names are a right, given by destiny. It’s just that some come with their own terms,” Quiss admitted.

“Firstking...” Quiss said, stopping his speed-reading to read something.

“Firstduke and Firstlord were awarded to powerful mages who mastered 10 and 20 styles of magic respectively. Their ability to master elements seemed to be a stroke of luck from correct bloodlines and training,” Quiss read, then turned the page... before looking back with a frown.

“That’s it,” he said to Seth.

They looked at Alpha.

“How many ‘kind’ of spells can you do?” Quiss asked slowly.

Alpha opened his mental menu, flicking through the categories he had never bothered to sort out of fear of interacting too deeply with the menu.

Fire, ice, and all the rest of the elements. Holy and demonic. Nature and death. Animation. Animal communication. Candy and block magic. Dragon and Insect magic. Enchantment and warding.

Alpha really wanted a true double jump, though. That would be neat.

He had a further 20 or 30 sections with one or two simple spells in them.

“Some,” he finally admitted.

“Firstking... would outdo Archmage?” Seth asked, suddenly coyly.

“The current Archmage is Opopal TalentDragon. So... yes, by rules of magic and the system in place... he would lose his seat to anyone assigned a higher spot than himself,” Quiss admitted.

Alpha stared at them.

“I don’t think a governing system dictated by a name pulled out of a hat is a stable one,” he pointed out.

“It’s the least corrupt,” Quiss said factually, getting a nod from Seth.

Alpha thought that was extremely worrying.

Still, it was none of his business. As long as he stayed in his new home inside a hole in the ground... this Archmage guy would just leave Alpha alone.

Alpha didn’t want to rule anything or lead an army of wizards. He wasn’t a hero... he definitely wasn’t a wizard-hero.

“We could use him to tear down TalentDragon’s regime and install one that respects anarchy,” Quiss said conversationally.

“Install a raving beetle king and prune all naughty dogs,” Seth said with a glare.

Alpha needed an adult that wasn’t insane or Seth.

---

Estal stared in horror, backing off slightly.

“It’s...” she trailed off, not able to give weight to her words.

“Estal, it’s a hole in the ground. It might have bugs in it,” Hazhur said, trying to remain patient. Estal glared at him.

“I don’t mind bugs. I had a spider as my only room mate in school. No, it's worse than that! There might be dead people in there,” she whined.

“Spiders are not classified as insects,” Silver mumbled.

“Any undead in a dungeon are technically created therefore not real undead,” Hazhur replied, as if this was drilled into him at a young age. Estal didn’t know if it was, Hazhur’s early life was like a big secret and her ‘father’ saw that side of the family as low-lifes.

“If it smells dead, acts undead, and bites me? It's close enough,” Estal shivered.

Karn came up and hopped into the hole.

“Well, we do what we learned,” he gestured to what seemed like an ancient bell tied to a nearby rock in the pit. He climbed down and rang it as the others slowly followed.

“Summon doom?” Estal asked sarcastically.

“Be polite,” Karn retorted smugly.

The door closing off the tunnel was etched with drawings of tiny people praising a sun of sorts, offering up their weapons as if surrendering their violent tendencies to some alien god. The door split down the middle and opened slowly, showing what looked to be a parade of sorts slowly making its way out of the depths.

“Oh, it's little mushroom people that Karn murdered,” Estal said conversationally as Karn went painfully still. Estal was about to make another snide remark when her eyes went huge.

“What... is... that?” she demanded with a voice so tight that Hazhur looked actually concerned.

With great fanfare, unique looking little mushroom people emerged on top of...

“I want 20!” Estal gushed as the little pigs with mushrooms growing on their back oinked and blinked their button eyes.

“Bacon with mushrooms already cooked in,” Karn whispered with drool.

The trumpets and strange songs they sang came to an end as the literal army of the mushroom creatures gazed up at them.

“We’re here for the little piggy-” Estal began.

“Trial of the key,” Hazhur interrupted.

The creatures were all still, almost acting as one being they parted like a sea of mushrooms.

Someone or something inside the cave was slowly making its way out in an elegant sweep. Another mushroom, but this one was much larger and in her cap, barely visible was a glowing crystal. Her little eyes glowed softly and the air shimmered in front of them as her fluffy white body came to a stop.

“I. Missy. Greet,” she curtsied.

“I love this hole,” Estal gushed.

“Same!” Karn said with delight.

The mushroom had laser eyes.

Hazhur wasn’t enjoying any of this more than was needed!

“Trial. Maze. of. Terror. Come!” she beckoned and walked into the deep cave.

“Should we follow?” Karn asked and Silver was already doing so.

“We will if we want to know what she was talking about,” Estal said brightly and walked into the pit of laser mushroom death... and terror, supposedly.

He felt a slight tug on his bald head and he turned in surprise to find the Pygmies were gazing at his head in slight awe.

Hazhur quickly picked up speed...