And his memories returned.

  Months before...

  The first thing he'd noticed upon entering the fifth floor was an amorphous form emitting a mental, headache-inducing scream. Identify gave him

  Banshee, an undead being, creates illusions and has strong mental attacks.

  “Squeak!” Squeak attacked the banshee, engulfing and disemboweling it in an instant. The floor was quiet again.

  “Interesting,” Flint said from behind him. “A normal adventurer would have seen a beautiful floating woman. But with your dragon eyes, illusions won't work on you. A shadow demon like Squeak should be more than a match for all but the strongest of these undead beings, and you may find most of this floor to be a bit of a snooze-fest.”

  More banshees appeared. Jeremy's shadow demon shot forward, dealing with these as quickly as the first.

  “What about secret sections and hidden treasures?” Jeremy asked.

  Flint sighed. “There are no secret sections or hidden treasures on this floor.”

  “Really?” Jeremy responded. “No secret sections or treasures? Why do I not believe you?”

  “It's true. But there is one boss.”

  “What kind of boss?”

  “The kind of boss all sane adventurers shun like their lives depend on it, because their lives do depend on it. On the first floor, I told you this dungeon contained boss monsters that could eat the hydra for breakfast. This is one of them.”

  “Awesome! What can you tell me about this boss?”

  Flint sighed again. “The dungeon told me this in the vain hope that you would not be an idiot and try to kill the Nameless One. The dungeon won't admit this, but I get the impression that even the dungeon is afraid of this monster. It has this boss monster trapped in a vast, multi-layered, magically reinforced prison, whose location is marked with doors covered with eldritch wards and warning signs. We will not be saying or thinking this monster's name because that might attract its attention; something we must avoid at all costs. This boss will sometimes lure weak-minded adventurers into its lair so it can feast on their souls, but with your mental resistances, you should be safe as long as you're not a complete idiot. Meaning you are in extreme danger as long as you remain on the fifth floor of the dungeon.”

  Jeremy grinned. “Tell me more.”

  “This nameless boss, came to the dungeon many thousands of years ago as a baby eldritch horror, terrifying even back then. Over the millennia, it grew up, becoming an adult, then old, and finally ancient. Now, even the strongest adventurers shun it. At least the adventurers who aren't complete idiots.”

  “Sure. How did Mezirma kill it?”

  “Mezirma investigated this boss, determined its proximity disrupted his magic defenses. And not being a complete idiot like someone I know, moved on to the sixth floor.”

  “I see. This boss monster must be packed with experience, and there's got to be some way to kill it.”

  “There isn't,” Flint said.

  “Nothing's unkillable. If you've ever watched movies, you'd know the big bad always has some exploitable weakness.”

  “Movies, as in not real life,” Flint said. “Here, in the real universe, unkillable means unkillable.”

  Book bounced up and down on the dungeon floor.

  “Book has the answer?” Jeremy opened Book.

  Many, many, many, many years ago, a group of silly adventurers kidnapped Beeg Dumi, strapped a large bomb to his back, and gave him to the nameless boss monster. The monster was preparing to consume Beeg Dumi's soul when Beeg Dumi's bomb went off, hurting the boss and making it really really really mad. As the group of silly adventurers ran for their lives in a vain attempt to escape the really really really mad, nameless boss monster, the adventurers speculated that if Beeg Dumi's bomb had gone off moments later, as the monster had begun to consume Beeg Dumi's soul, the bomb might have killed it.

  Note: The Children's Dungeon is not responsible for safe room failures involving ancient eldritch horrors or other godlike entities.

  “It would seem we've found our weakness,” Jeremy said.

  Flint groaned. “As usual, what you're considering is suicide. Your mental resistance is strong for a humanoid adventurer, but to get close enough to this boss monster to do what you intend, you'd need mental resistance that's strong for an ancient dragon. Your mind and soul will be mush by the time you're close enough to shoot it, and even then, your god-tier gnome weapon, the Piff Snizzle might not work for you.”

  “I have the heart of a dragon,” Jeremy said. “If that doesn't make me worthy to fire the Piff Snizzle, nothing does.”

  Flint groaned again. “I'm never getting out of this dungeon.”

  “First, what can I do to improve my mental resistance? We'll start by killing everything else on this floor and putting the attribute points in Will. So how do I kill these things with my bare hands?”

  ***

  Three greater banshees screamed at Jeremy, giving him a mild headache. “Squeak.” Squeak wrapped itself around his head, turning itself into makeshift eldritch armor, muffling the screams to where Jeremy could no longer hear them. In addition, Arkys, his patron god of vengeance, had given him new spells. Eldritch Weapon Enhancement and Eldritch Armor. Flint was quick to assure him that Eldritch armor wouldn't last long against the disruptive effects of the Eldritch Horror, and Eldritch Weapon Enhancement would be useless. But Jeremy leveled both spells up as much as he could. Since Squeak could kill undead beings, but couldn't eat them, he made his familiar take his life force to make it as strong as possible.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  And Jeremy had turned fourteen soon after arriving on the fifth floor.

  ***

  “OAAAAAAAAHH!” The gray-cloaked, undead lich flew at Jeremy from across the enormous cavern, letting out an unearthly howl.

  Identify, gave him.

  Dominas the Dread Lich. Dungeon boss.

  Don't be an idiot, Jeremy. Just kill this boss and leave the fifth floor.

  Great. More snark from the dungeon.

  Jeremy made a T with his forearms. “Time out?”

  The lich stopped inches from Jeremy. “Are you telling me you are not even a little frightened? I worked hard on my death howl.”

  “No, no, your death howl was very frightening,” Jeremy said, not wanting to hurt the monster's feelings. “But since you are the second intelligent, talking monster I've met in this dungeon, I was hoping we could talk before we fight to the death.”

  “Ah, Jeremy. The dungeon warned me about you. Come into my office.” Dominas floated away. Jeremy followed.

  Dominas's office turned out to be a large crypt. “Something to drink?” A couple of undead servants brought in stone chairs and a table. Jeremy brushed off the thick layer of dust from both and sat down. “I do not eat or drink myself, but I keep refreshments for visitors.” Dominas brought out a bowl filled with what Jeremy hoped were snacks, a shiny metal bottle, and a stone glass. Dominas poured an unknown substance into the glass and sat down across from him.

  Jeremy helped himself to the oblong brown nuggets in the bowl. They were almost as hard as the stone table. He put one in his mouth and bit down with a satisfying crunch. It tasted like a salty biscuit. He had no idea what the lich had poured into his glass, but it was oddly sweet and had a high alcohol content. With his poison immunity, alcohol did nothing to him, and he might as well be drinking flavored water. “What is this?”

  “No idea,” Dominas answered. “Just that the previous owner no longer needs it. Now, before you ask about the Nameless One, if you ever wondered what dungeon boss monsters are afraid of, it would be this being. If an adventurer kills us, we come right back, but not with that thing. I think there were two other boss monsters here before me, but they vanished, and I can't remember who or what they were. But I can guess the one responsible.”

  “I see,” Jeremy said, his mouth full, taking another drink. “If you don't mind me asking, do you drop any dungeon loot that would help me kill it?”

  “Surely you jest, young man. I have nothing that would hurt that creature... But here is something that might provide slight protection.” Dominas put a medallion-shaped pendant on the table. “This is a charm to protect against mental fear-based attacks. It will do little against the Nameless One, but it is better than nothing.”

  “And you're giving it to me?”

  “Why not? Shall we be fighting to the death now? Or would you like a quest?”

  “What kind of quest?” Jeremy asked.

  “To kill the Nameless One.”

  YOU HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED A QUEST!

  Kill the Nameless One.

  Difficulty: Impossible.

  Reward: Nothing that is worth entering the Nameless One's prison.

  Are you truly foolish enough to accept this quest?

  Yes/No

  Jeremy picked Yes.

  Flint let out an anguished groan from behind him.

  “Very well,” Dominas floated in the air above Jeremy. “I pray for your success, but I'm not hopeful. If you somehow succeed, I will do my best to reward you. Then, I will do my best to kill you. Nothing personal, just doing my job.”

  “I understand,” Jeremy said. “In the meantime, I hoped that if you encounter any other adventurers, don't tell them about me. I've had enough unpleasant encounters with other adventurers; I'd as soon they not get in my way. With you still around, they shouldn't suspect my presence.”

  The lich thought it over. “I don't see why not, so long as you understand that whether or not you are successful, I will try to kill you before you leave the 5th floor. Good fortune be with you. You will need it.”

  “Sure,” Jeremy said, putting on the medallion. It had the image of a shield on one side and a moon on the other. “Thank you for your time.”

  ***

  “Uh, Banxi!” Jeremy shouted from the last safe room. “Come on! Show yourself! I want to exchange some stars for attribute points!”

  Nothing.

  “It would seem the dungeon doesn't want you to do this either,” Flint said from behind him, still staying out of Jeremy's sight. “I guess we'll have to cancel this project.”

  “Not happening.”

  ”Even if you could raise your Attributes, it wouldn't be nearly enough.”

  ***

  It had taken many exhausting days to fill Piff Snizzle's vast mana reservoir. He'd also gained two more levels, bringing him up to level 32. He put the extra points into Will. Squeak fed off Jeremy's life force to get as strong as possible. Squeak could hold off the Nameless One for a brief time, if Jeremy was lucky, and he prayed that would be enough.

  “Something I'm wondering about, though. How is it possible not to think of this eldritch horror's name when there's no way to find out what the name is? Book doesn't know, and all the doors to its prison say is 'extreme danger!' in thousands of different languages?”

  “You should be grateful there isn't a name,” Flint said. “If you approach it like I know you will, it will push its name into your mind. You won't be able to think of anything else, as it destroys your mind and devours your soul. I don't know if it will notice me,” Flint said with a defeated sigh, “but I can't take the chance. Since I can't talk you out of doing this, I will temporarily merge with you. This should give your Attributes a tiny boost. It won't be much.”

  “Wait. I thought you said you couldn't merge with me.”

  “I can't control your body. But I can use your body for temporary protection. Don't worry. You won't even notice I'm there, unfortunately.”

  “If you say so,” Jeremy said, not sure he liked the situation.

  Though the preparations took many days, the plan itself was simple. Jeremy cast Eldritch Armor and Divine Fury, and ran through the warning doors as fast as he could. After an eternity of doors—he lost count at fifty—he entered the Boss's prison. A vast sphere so large that he could barely see the other side.

  As he entered the vast sphere, gravity stopped. For unknown reasons, Jeremy was now weightless.

  The monster's power was like an anvil crushing his mind. He drank his two mental attribute potions, giving himself a temporary boost of Intelligence, Wisdom, and Will to increase his mental resistance, then flung himself into a weightless void where the ancient boss horror waited.

  ***

  Jeremy was in free fall in a place he was reasonably sure was not his Earth. He fought to keep the boss horror out of his mind. But knew it was hopeless. It didn't matter that his eyes were closed. The letters slowly appeared in his mind, one after the other. K, R, I, T.... J... I.... K

  The letters formed a word. So that was the name of the Nameless One. Kritjik.