Chapter 42

Even if Not-Zoey (the reflection? Zoey needed a better name for the creature, seeing how she shifted forms constantly) gave it her best effort to kill the three of them, and Zoey in specific, with her being the weak link, Zoey was glad they didn’t need to do the same—only defeat her.

The fight was a blur. Even more so than the first phase, the second—or third, depending on perspective—showcased just how thoroughly Zoey was outclassed by her two teammates. And by the shard boss herself.

But Rosalie and Delta pulled through. It happened in a way that didn’t make complete sense to Zoey, to be honest. One moment the reflection was looking worn down but otherwise as fluid and violent as ever, and the next she collapsed forward, plate-glass daggers skittering across the ground.

“Ah, shit,” Not-Delta said. “Okay, okay. You got me.”

Zoey’s heart pounded in her chest, the abrupt stop disorienting her. Her teammates didn’t need a second to gather themselves. They weren’t ... well, amateurs, like Zoey. A tough fight might get their blood pumping, but it didn’t leave them shaking and disoriented.

Then again, to the smallest possible defense on Zoey’s part, they hadn’t been the boss’s chosen target.

Not-Delta lay on the ground, chest heaving up and down as she stared at the ceiling. Zoey supposed it could be a ruse—that she wasn’t actually out for the count—but she doubted it. Not so much on her own intuition, but by the way Delta and Rosalie approached, taking the surrender at face value. If they thought the defeat real, enough to approach while holding their weapons aside, then it must be.

Rosalie frowned down at the creature, leaning against her spear.

“I know it’s your job,” Delta said, “but going only for Zoey was kind of a bitch move.”

Not-Delta huffed. “I knew what I was in for, with you two. Had to try to win, didn’t I?”

“The loot,” Rosalie said, apparently not caring to follow that conversation down its obvious path. “Where’s it hidden?”

“Underneath the bed.”

With one more disdainful look, she turned and headed that way.

“Should we kill her to be safe?” Delta called.

Zoey’s skin prickled, even if she had learned from Mel that boss monsters respawned when killed—reformed from whatever enigmatic energy fueled shards, formed their magical loot, and all its other perplexing functions.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Zoey said.

Delta glanced at her, then to Rosalie—who shrugged, an apparent ‘no’. Delta’s daggers vanished into her inventory. She’d used a bow for the start of the fight—her natural choice of weapon—but with how tightly the reflection was keeping to Zoey, she had figured a melee weapon smarter.

“I can barely lift my head up.” The reflection chuckled, then shrugged. “Not that I can prove it. Just go loot and head out—the exit’s down there, too.”

Delta hesitated, then did so. Zoey followed after.

“And sorry for tricking you, Zoey,” the reflection called out. “Part of the game, you know?”

Zoey paused, glancing over her shoulder. To say she had mixed feelings on the creature was understating it.

She said nothing, continuing forward.

Rosalie had shifted the bed out of the way, revealing a trapdoor. She leaned forward and gripped the handle, then, with a heave, and flexing of her muscles, ripped the huge metal slab up and tossed it to the side. It impacted the ground with a heavy clang—the kind of noise an anvil would make when being tossed aside.

Sometimes Zoey forgot just how strong Rosalie was. Her class was half attack oriented, and half defense—a brawler, so to say. So while she wasn’t the strongest a person could be for her advancement, she still had some serious oomph in her movements when she needed to bring it to bear.

Rosalie spared a look for them, something hard to read, then shuffled down the ladder.

“She’s on edge,” Delta said.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“It’s ‘cause of you.”

Zoey grimaced. “I know.”

Delta patted her on the back sympathetically, then clambered down the trapdoor after Rosalie.

Delta meant, of course, the danger Zoey had been in. Rosalie had been hard-pressed to fend off the reflection’s assault, and the cuts and bruises Zoey had accrued proved it. Any of those, she knew, could have been much worse than glancing blows. Zoey didn’t have the supernatural strength Rosalie did; if she took a direct hit from the reflection, it would’ve been ... well, as fatal as a knife into the gut of any normal person. Maybe slightly less, considering they had health potions. But not easily brushed.

Zoey knew rationally she shouldn’t be ashamed at her incompetence, but she was. Hardly her fault. She was some girl from twenty-first century Earth. Swordsmanship, footwork, and spellcasting hadn’t been in her highschool curriculum. So of course she was incompetent.

And Rosalie wasn’t on edge because Zoey was proving herself a poor teammate—though true, despite the powerful advantages she offered—but because she’d been shown that setting a brutal pace might get Zoey killed. And for all Rosalie had made allusions to ‘doing whatever needed to be done’, Zoey ... didn’t think that would extend to repeatedly placing Zoey into life-threatening situations. Because that would end one way. And however determined for success Rosalie was, she wouldn’t get Zoey killed.

Had her time delving with Rosalie come to an end, because of this shard? And what it had proven? Or at least what it had highlighted? She was sure Rosalie had recognized the threat in some rational sense. In the same way Zoey had.

She followed her two teammates down the trap door.

At least she had something to distract herself with. Zoey’s troubled thoughts faded, focusing instead on the chests laid across the room.

The descent down the trapdoor had led into a tight warehouse-like room, with none of the majesty and breath-taking design of the arena up above. Like usual, a swirling black portal was tucked away at the back, between the four chests.

Four chests—all with a blue band around them. Zoey’s eyebrows briefly shot up, before remembering what three of them were.

“Holy shit,” Delta said.

“It’s our inventories,” Zoey clarified. This was Delta’s first time down in a shard, so her surprise was justified. “Though, only three of them.”

One of the ‘superior’ rated chests, with a band of sapphire wrapping the dilapidated wood, would have actual loot. Presumably, some of the best they’d found yet.

And considering what loot looked like for her party, Zoey was intensely interested. Enough to wipe away her earlier concerns over what her future with Rosalie looked like—and Delta, for that matter—now that Zoey had showcased her ineptitude, and the risk of pushing through dangerous shards.

That, and because there wasn’t much point worrying. She continued to be an expert at ignoring the looming future.