Val and Katya crested a small rise, almost to the wide staircase that separated the first and second levels when she called him to a sudden stop. He had been trailing behind her, heavy pack on his back, as she stalked across the verdant green plains of the labyrinth’s first floor since his unfortunate faux pas at breakfast, and the sun was just beginning to crawl toward the horizon.

The first level was like a wide, picturesque green meadow. Occasional groves of dark trees dotted the undulating landscape and, though they had travelled for hours, Val could still see the spiral staircase that connected Al’Lachia and Abyssia in the distance. It sprung up from the earth in a tight spiral, disappearing into an open portal that seemed to float in the clear blue of the sky.

They hadn’t spoken during their trans-dungeon journey, but occasionally Val would hear Katya mutter her displeasure at his apparent ignorance of her lineage. He wasn’t sure what she was seeking, but apparently they were yet to locate it, though blissfully they also had not crossed paths with any hostile monsters or creatures.

Now, though, she drew the enormous greatsword from her back and swung it in a wide arc, bringing it to rest at her side. Val caught up with her, moving to her left and giving the blade a wide berth. 

Katya’s gaze was set a little down the way, locked onto a small group of hairless dogs at the base of the hill. Their skin was near-black, with shimmering spiderwebs of deep red splaying out from large, red spots on their throats. They were pulling at and feeding on the mangled corpse of what looked to Val to be a small, gazelle-like creature, fighting over the meat and bones like feral animals.

“Now you’re going to see the power of the bloodline of the Ten Thousand Blades,” Katya declared, “The single most regarded family of warriors in the history of Al’Lachia.”

Val looked at Katya. Her jaw was set and, though she was focused on the dogs, he felt she was waiting for some sort of response.

“Thank you?” he offered.

She cast him a brief sidewards glance that could have knocked a smaller man over, but stayed on her target. Raising her fingers to her mouth, she blew two sharp, whistling notes into the air. The dogs’ heads snapped up and their eyes locked on to Katya, standing above them.

The sight of their blood-spattered faces sent Val’s hands wandering to the hammers on his belt.

“Don’t,” Katya spat, “Take a step back. They’re mine.”

As if on cue, the hounds sprang into action, sprinting up the shallow slope toward Katya. Val followed her instructions and took a few steps away from the killing ground.

As the five hounds drew closer, Val could see the bloody foam spilling from their mouths, and their eyes, which glowed like late-burning coals, red embers in white-grey. He took another half-step back as Katya slid her left foot backwards and positioned herself. She took the haft of the sword in both hands and centred the blade in front of herself, the tip nearly touching the ground.

Val didn’t know where to look, but despite her declaration he slid two hammers free and let them dangle loosely in his hands.

The first of the dogs reached Katya and leapt toward her with teeth bared. She stepped forward to meet it, sweeping the blade upwards. The sword crashed into the dog's chest and sent it flying backwards, and its body shattered into motes of shimmering red light that dissipated into nothing before it could even hit the ground.

Val watched in silence as Katya cut down the other four hounds just as mercilessly, moving forward to meet each one. Her sword was a blur, and her ferocity more than a match for their own. 

It was over in heartbeats. Katya stood, not even breathing heavily, among a number of small bones, teeth and other items that scattered the trampled grass.

Katya turned to face Val, a triumphant look on her face.

“Wow,” Val said, genuinely impressed.

Katya smiled, satisfied, and shoved the sword back into its scabbard. Val looked at the hammers in his hands and, realising he wouldn’t be needing them, tucked them away.

“Could you have dealt with those baptet hounds so quickly?” Katya asked him.

“No,” he answered, honestly, “Not at all.”

She seemed satisfied by how impressed he was.

“Those idiots in the guild will eat their words when they find me waiting on the twentieth level, the floor boss crushed under my heel,” she declared, her tone heated.

Val threw her a curious look, but she was already looking toward the entrance to the second floor, just over the next rise.

“How long will that take?” he enquired.

“About two weeks, I imagine,” she answered, “Considering I won’t be able to use the gates.”

“Ah,” Val agreed, finally hearing a term he knew a little about, discovered in his months of research prior to entering the abyss.

The gates allowed adventurers to move between groups of floors within the labyrinth, but they were constantly under assault by the monsters that populated the various dungeons and floors, and therefore defended and covetously controlled by the top guilds, the only groups that could field a continuous force large enough to protect them. The outcome being that the use of the gates by anyone other than those guilds required significant influence, advanced politicking, or an enormous purse to negotiate.

“But,” she continued, “neither will anyone from my former guild.”

The brief battle, or perhaps just dispelling Val’s ignorance of her strength, seemed to have vastly improved Katya’s mood.

“I’m hungry,” she said to no one in particular.

Almost on autopilot, Val walked over to her, pulling his pack off as he went. He stopped next to her, placed the bag on the ground, retrieved a heavily waxed apple from one of the many side pouches and held it out in front of her.

“Oh,” she said as she took the apple from his hand “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he replied.

Val opened another pouch and rifled through the contents, pulled out a small strap of dried meat and tore it in half, offering the larger piece to Katya. She grabbed it, then took a large bite from the apple.

As she chewed, she watched him close up the enormous pack.

“You’ve got a lot of food,” she asked, uncharacteristically casual, “A lot. Which floor are you travelling to?”

He briefly thought about lying to this girl, not sure he wanted to get into the details of his journey, but something about her current demeanour pushed him to be honest about his intentions.

“The bottom,” he said, his tone even.

She looked at his face, expecting him to be smiling, joking about the insane thing he had just said, but there was no sign of humour to be seen. To her shock, equally, no apparent acknowledgement that he had any awareness of the madness of what he had just told her.

“What?” she asked.

“The bottom,” he repeated, “The thousandth floor. The final level of the labyrinth.”

She turned toward him, eyeing him intently, seeking anything about him that hinted at god-like strength or one-of-a-kind martial ability. He resisted the urge to take a step backwards as she assessed him.

Leaning in, she pulled a small yellow crystal chip on a leather thong, identical to the one that Val wore, from inside the collar of her breastplate.

“What are you -” Val started to ask.

“Party with me,” she commanded, “Let me see your stat sheet.”

Val’s hand moved instinctively to his neck, covering the charm that sat under his armour.

“Oh, no,” Val stammered, “That’s really not -”

“Val, was it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, “Val.”

“Val,” she said, more forcefully, “Tap your crystal to mine.”

She waited, holding Val in place with cold, blue eyes. He tried to find a way to deny her, but eventually relented, pulling the crystal charm from behind his neck guard before bending down close to her and tapping it against hers.

He noticed, unexpectedly, that her hair smelled like flowers. It was a sweet, green aroma totally at odds with her demeanour, and he couldn’t keep the surprised expression from his face. Katya caught it and pulled back suddenly.

“What?!” she asked him, her tone adversarial.

“No, nothing,” he rushed out, “I was thinking of something else.”

Katya scowled at him.

A small pane of light appeared in front of each of them, showing the words ‘Party formed’. The panes then expanded, showing both of their statistics side-by-side.

Her class, KNIGHT, was one of the ones common to the actual citizens of this world. One of the more generous guild-meisters, though he couldn’t remember from which of the guilds he visited, had explained that while some mighty warriors had been born in Al’Lachia over the centuries, generally the strongest bloodlines could trace their lineage back to a summoned, which was one of the other reasons the small kingdom kept to the ritual. 

It seemed very likely to Val that this Ten Thousand Blades guy she kept talking about was, like him, some unlucky interloper who was run down by a chariot in his own world.

Katya’s eyes rapidly read through his statistics, her shock and disappointment apparent. 

Val knew that he had what had been described to him as “a villager build”, but the insane disparity between Katya’s stats and his own really put his lack of strength in perspective. Her STR, DEX and VIT stats dwarfed his, though she was only level seventeen to his level three, according to the floating window. Even her lowest stat, MAG, outstripped his combined total by a mile.

“Are you a child?” she admonished him, “Are you a sickly child?”

“Alright,” he told her, tucking the crystal back into his armour, “That’s enough.”

Both of the windows vanished.

“I’m serious,” she continued, “I’ve never seen a build so weak, and what kind of class is a ‘Daddy’? And, what?! You haven’t even unlocked any skills? Have you even been in a fight before? What kind of -”

Her eyes widened.

“Wait, you’re the summoned! From the festival last year! ” she near-yelled in surprise, then interrupted her own thought, “You didn’t just not have guildmarks, you don’t have a guild! The first summoned in history not to be drafted!”

She trailed off, and Val replied with a sigh. She narrowed her eyes.

“Gods, you’re going to die down here,” she said, her tone serious, “With stats like those, I’m pretty sure those baptet hounds would have ended you. How are you planning to survive to the thousandth floor? You know, nobody has ever made it down there.”

Val shrugged.

“Same way I was going to get into the labyrinth at all,” he replied, “Not be seen, not fight at all if I can help it. I’ve got invisibility potions, blinding potions, distraction totems, smoke bombs, the whole box and dice.”

Katya had never heard that particular colloquialism before, but she caught the meaning. She threw another glance at the pack, then looked back at Val.

“Tell you what, I’ll cut you a deal,” she offered.

He looked at her, intrigued. 

“I can’t go back to Abyssia for supplies,” she continued, “And I kind of came down here on short notice.”

Val nodded. 

“There’s no guarantee any of the vendors on the lower floors will be around,” she went on, “So, if you’ll split your supplies with me until we reach the twentieth floor, I can make the first part of your suicidal journey a little easier at least. You might even catch a few levels if we stay partied up.”

Val looked at Katya, again trying to parse the petite frame and adolescent face with the whirlwind of death he had seen unleashed on the pack of dogs that had attacked them. She didn’t seem like the type given to charity, and considering what he knew about her unceremonious exit from her guild, he wondered what he had done to endear himself to her enough to receive this seemingly generous offer.

Maybe she’s just that hungry, he thought. But that was a motivation he was familiar with, at least.

“Deal,” he said.

Katya smiled and offered her hand, and Val took it. His own hand dwarfed hers, but he felt and acknowledged the strength in her grip.

“And I get to use the sleeping bag,” she said

Val smiled.

“Of course.”