Before leaving the safety of the shadows, I activated a scent ward, wrapped my mind in a shield, and cast lesser imitate, transforming myself into the likeness of a Triumvirate knight. A moment later, I strode boldly into the bailey.

The crowds parted for me, instinctively making way for one of the citadel’s custodians, and I reached the citadel’s southern wall without incident. As I drew closer to the gate positioned there, my steps slowed.

The crowds were thin at this end of the bailey. Few players appeared inclined to visit the plague quarter’s more southerly districts, and this was the first time I’d come this way myself. On my previous visits to the citadel, I’d always used the north gate, and the keep itself was about as far south as I’d ventured into the quarter.

Would the mantises think to watch the south gate? I wondered. Or just the north one? I was ready for them in any case. With my senses extended and my mindsight opened, I passed under the open portcullis.

No attack followed.

But something else caught my attention.

The square beyond was filled with the stench of something rancid. Intermingled with it was the saltiness of the sea. I wrinkled my nose. The salt marsh and the ocean had to be close by, I realized. No wonder this area is so lightly trafficked.

Despite my sudden worry about virulent diseases, I didn’t pause in my stride as I marched through the square. There weren’t many others around, and I was sure to be spotted by an astute observer. Trusting my disguise, I kept going, my gaze fixed on the buildings at the far end.

I’d almost reached them when my intuition prickled.

You have passed a mental resistance check! A hostile entity has failed to pierce your disguise. Your deception has increased to level 74.

I was being watched. Mantis, I thought. Where is he?

It took an effort of will not to flinch or hurry my steps. Expecting an analyze attempt at any second, I held my nerve and kept my stride even. The shadows were so close.

A moment later, I passed out of the square and sagged against the side of a building. Would whichever mantis had seen me think to follow? Or would he think nothing of the lone knight passing through?

The streets were not an ideal battleground for squaring off with the mantises, but if it came to it, I would make the best of it. Concealing myself in the shadows, I drew my blades and waited.

Five long minutes passed.

And still, no attack came.

I’ve made it out, I thought. Letting the lesser imitate spell about me lapse, I replaced it with facial disguise before slipping west through the quarter in the direction of the haunted catacombs—my chosen battleground.

~~~

To fight the mantises, I realized I would need an environment suited to my talents. While the assassins were stealth fighters, they seemed to rely more on their blade work and toxins.

My own ability to hide surpassed theirs, and I suspected a dungeon like the haunted catacombs—which, if its name was anything to go by, was dark, enclosed, and deep underground—would suit me better than it did my foes. Certainly, it would be better than fighting under the harsh light of the scorching dunes.

Navigating by my map, I reached the haunted catacombs without mishap. Its entrance was situated in an open square on the western side of the quarter, and to my surprise, I found the players waiting to enter assembled in a long snaking line.

Well, things here are certainly more orderly than at the scorching dunes.

A portal was in the square’s center, and on either side of it towered two giant statues—one depicting a dwarf and the other an orc. Like the other marble figures I’d seen in the quarter, these two were also accompanied by animal companions. The dwarf cradled a mole in his arms while the orc had a snake draped across his neck.

Once again, something about the statues struck me as odd, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on what bothered me about them. Shrugging away the mystery, I entered the square to join the queue.

But as I padded closer, another oddity caught my attention: the snaking line of players was static.

No one is entering the dungeon.

My expression twisted into a frown. What now? I wondered. I couldn’t afford to stand around like the others, though. Sooner or later, the mantises would start searching the plague quarter, and I didn’t want to be caught out in the open.

I was nearly certain the assassins wouldn’t be able to track me—not with all my defenses active, but nearly certain and certain were not the same thing, and too many of my assumptions in Nexus had been proven wrong for me to put much faith in them anymore.

Coming to a decision, I cut through the line of patiently waiting players.

You have passed a mental resistance check! Multiple unknown entities have failed to pierce your disguise or analyze you.

Glares and muttered oaths were thrown my way; curses and the occasional limb too. No one drew a blade, though. Smiling tightly, I ignored the rest of the attention directed my way as I slipped deftly through the crowd to draw up short at the dungeon’s entrance.

The nether portal’s shimmering curtain of energy was dull, nowhere near as bright as the one to the scorching dune had been. Is it inactive? I wondered worriedly. Was that why no one was entering?

“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?” someone shouted.

I glanced at the player who’d addressed me. It was an ogre standing near the front of the line. He was more than twice my own height and armored in a mountain of steel. Ignoring his question, I asked my own instead. “Why is no one going in?”

The elf standing beside the ogre sniggered. “Oh, Powers, not another noob!”

The ogre proved more gracious. “Because the teams inside have nearly cleared the dungeon,” he explained patiently. He spread his arms to encompass the twenty or so players gathered around him. “There is no point in our party entering until they’re finished.”

I shrugged, not making much sense of his response, except to pick out one important bit: entering the dungeon was possible, even if the players chose not to do so. “You don’t mind me entering then?”

The ogre’s bushy brows drew down. “Why would you want to?”

“I’m kind of in a hurry,” I said.

“You’re not a scav, are you?” the elf asked suspiciously.

You have passed a mental resistance check! An unknown entity has failed to pierce your disguise or analyze you.

I ignored the elf—and his failed analyze attempt—and kept my gaze fixed on the ogre. One way or the other, I intended on entering the portal. It was just a few steps away, and even if they wished to, I couldn’t see the nearby players stopping me before I ducked inside.

But if they pursued… it might prove problematic.

The ogre shrugged. “Be my guest.”

“What? No, Toff!” the elf exclaimed. “Why would you—”

“We’re not knights,” the ogre rumbled. “Policing the dungeon is not our job. If the noob wants to go in, he can. And if he is a scav, well, the players inside will deal with him quickly enough.”

“Thank you,” I said. Ignoring the ongoing sputtered protests of the elf, I slipped into the shimmering curtain.

Transfer through portal commencing…

…

…

Passage completed!

This nether portal is uncontrolled by any faction and may be used by any player.

Leaving sector 1. Entering the Endless Dungeon.

~~~

I emerged in a small room.

The chamber was unlit—and just as dark and dank as I hoped it would be. It appeared empty, except for the zombie corpse at the far end and the portal at my back. Slipping into the shadows, I crouched down in the corner of the stone chamber and unfurled my mindsight. It confirmed what my physical senses told me.

I was alone.

Satisfied I remained safe for the time being, I studied the Game alert buzzing for my attention.

You have entered sector 102 of the Endless Dungeon. This sector is part of a closed region named the Haunted Catacombs. It consists of 3 unclaimable sectors and 3 two-way portals.

A maximum of 24 players may be in the Haunted Catacombs at any one time. The dungeon is only repopulated once all the sector bosses have been killed.

Recommended player levels: 120 to 140.

Recommended party size: 4 to 6.

Players currently inside the dungeon: 21.

Sector bosses remaining: 1 of 3.

In light of the Adjudicator’s message, the ogre’s remarks began to make sense. This dungeon imposed a limit on the number of players that could enter, and it did not respawn continuously.

No wonder the players outside are content to wait. It wouldn’t be much of a dungeon dive for any party entering the dungeon now, but that didn’t matter to me.

I was here to slay the mantises, not hunt monsters.

Dismissing the Game notice, I studied the nether portal again. It glimmered a dull white, marking the portal as active. That was good.

It meant I could leave anytime.

But it meant too that the mantises could appear without warning.

I had to be ready before that happened. I planned on ambushing the assassins, and the Game message gave me an inkling of how to go about that.

According to it, the dungeon consisted of three sectors, and two of its sector bosses were dead already. That meant the first two levels of the dungeon were likely free of denizens, or mostly so, and hence safe to explore.

Step one then: get a better handle on the terrain.

Rising into a half crouch, I padded across the room and through the open doorway at the far end of the room. A long corridor lay beyond. I scrutinized it for a moment. The corridor disappeared into the distance, beyond my line of sight, and was peppered with doors on either side, but like the entry chamber, it seemed empty of threat.

I crept into the corridor, pausing every so often to scan the surroundings with mindsight. The adjacent rooms were barren too. A few dozen yards on, I came across another corpse. This one was that of a bleached skeleton. Bending down, I examined the remains.

The target is a slain level 120 skeletal warrior. Reanimated skeletons are amongst the most common type of undead and can be raised from the dead to perform a variety of functions.

Your insight has increased to level 79.

The undead had been stripped bare of equipment. The nearby area was littered with debris—mostly shards of shattered bone.

There was not enough to identify, much less analyze. But given the intact skeleton, I thought the other remains were also that of slain skeletal warriors, ones likely obliterated by a spell. Rising to my feet, I shook my head in wry admiration. Whichever party has passed this way, they had been quite thorough in their destruction.

That should make things easier for me.

Leaving the slain undead behind, I delved deeper into the dungeon.