“And that!” Desiree said with a dramatic flourish, “is how the cycle of Demon Kings began.”

  Virgil wasn’t sure how to feel about Desiree’s story. The beginning had particularly frightened him — he, too, certainly loved magic, and he’d had that very debate with Ren and Cassian about the merits of the System — but the rest of the story veered off from what little he knew about his own life. Certainly, he’d never had a husband and never planned to, and that was the center of First’s entire motivation.

  “Well?” James prodded. “It’s probably a bit exaggerated, but does any of that sound familiar?”

  Virgil shook his head. “It’s hard to say. The time period is right, but I just don’t remember enough about my life.”

  Desiree clapped her hands. “All the more reason for you to use your skills and get your memories back!”

  He made a noncommittal noise. He didn’t know who he was or what those memories would hold, but he was certain he didn’t want them back.

  But how to explain that? It was irrational. It was the exact opposite of what he should want, and his relationship with the party was tenuous enough already. If he had any hope of escaping the dungeon, it was them.

  “I wonder,” Inara said, “does it have to be an infernal skill? Or would any of them bring back a memory?”

  Virgil glanced away. “Only the infernal skills. It would seem my memories are locked away in hell itself. “

  This was a delicate subject. A person’s skill list was a story of their life. It showed their passions and what they’d dedicated themselves to throughout their life. Some people were proud of their lists and gladly showed it off. Others held it close, unwilling to reveal the skeleton of their soul.

  Still, Inara pressed on. Virgil had willingly showed her his status sheet before; perhaps he would do so again.

  “May I see your skills?” she asked.

  Virgil hesitated only for a moment. His infernal skills and affinity made him nervous, but what was privacy in the face of certain death? He shared his skill.

  Skill Points Available: 2

  Skills: Mana Cycle 1, Silence 5, Lexigraph 2, Recall 3, Quiet Study 4, Dissertation 1, Scriptbind 2, Cite Source 2, Counter-Theory 1, Field Notes 1, Thesis: Forgotten Magic 2, Whispers of Malphas, Black Script, Hellflame Bolt, Seal of the First Sin, Summon & Bind: Infernal Pact

  Fire Affinity: 3

  Water Affinity: 2

  Earth Affinity: 2

  Infernal Affinity: 35

  Inara sucked in a breath. “Gregor had the same infernal skills,” she said, “and the same affinity.”

  “So he is real, then?” James stepped in. “The dungeon added skills to make him fit the narrative.”

  Inara bit her lip.

  “Why does a dungeon need a narrative, anyway?” Desiree asked. She stood on one leg, with her arms stretched wide for balance. “I thought it was supposed to be cool monster fights and boring history lessons. I never heard of there being a story.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Dungeons are as alive as you or I,” Inara explained. “They do contain history, and they often use a story to convey more than just the dry facts of what happened.

  James clapped Virgil on the shoulder. “Whatever the case, you’re with us now. We won’t let the dungeon eat you.”

  The hero winked, but the gesture only seemed to make Virgil nauseous.

  “Let’s try to bring some of your memories back,” Inara said hurriedly, shooting James a look to shut the hell up and stop making this worse. James backed off, his palms raised in surrender.

  “Start with Mana Cycle, you need to regenerate your mana anyway.”

  Desiree leaned forward at that, nearly losing her balance. “You’ve got Mana Cycle, too? I thought I was the only one!”

  Virgil ignored her and focused on Inara. “Mana Cycle,” he said. Immediately he could feel the regeneration of mana as it cycled through his body, restored by his own energy and by pulling from the atmosphere around them. As his first skill, it was the one he’d studied most, and he liked to think that his understanding of it made it more effective.

  Inara watched him with an intensity that reminded him of his own experiments. He recognized that thirst for knowledge and wondered how deep it went.

  The scholar shrugged. “No flashbacks.”

  She nodded. “One of the infernal skills, then.”

  Virgil looked over the list, uneasy. Mana Cycle was an easy spell. Noncombative, like most of his skills, and harmless. Each of the infernal spells available to him, on the other hand, promised destruction.

  Whispers of the Malphas

  An insidious enchantment that calls forth a chorus of forgotten voices, murmuring secrets only the caster can hear. For the duration, the caster gains heightened insight and uncanny intuition, but each secret learned etches a mark upon their mind, making it harder to distinguish their own thoughts from the whispers.

  A powerful spell, to be sure, and likely the first Demon King had his reasons for risking his sanity, but Virgil wasn’t about to toy with something like that.

  Although… He wondered what kind of secrets he might hear. Might the Malphas tell him who he was? If he did turn out to be a dungeon construct, could they tell him how to survive?

  He shook his head. It wasn’t worth it. He had already lost too much of himself to be giving any more away.

  He checked another skill.

  Seal of the First Sin

  A primal ward etched in shame and shadow, said to be the first spell ever cast in regret. Activating the seal binds the target in place—physically, spiritually, and occasionally existentially—with the distinct sensation that the universe is quietly disappointed in them.

  What could persuade someone to even take a skill like this? The one good thing about the infernal spells, Virgil thought, was that at least he could reassure himself that he would never choose such skills for himself.

  The rest were similarly horrifying.

  Summon & Bind: Infernal Pact

  A classic of dark academia: summon a demon, offer a soul (yours or negotiable), and pray they’re in a good mood. Comes with a binding circle, flame effects, and optional fine print that will absolutely come back to haunt you.

  Black Script

  A forbidden form of magic written in a language that actively dislikes being read. Reading Black Script aloud may grant you immense power—or a nosebleed, a minor possession, or an eldritch lawsuit. Side effects include spontaneous prophecy, uncontrollable cackling, and the slow but certain erosion of your moral compass.

  Hellflame Bolt

  A high-impact projectile of concentrated infernal energy, hotter than dragon breath and twice as rude. Upon impact, it explodes in a burst of flame that clings to surfaces and egos alike. Especially effective against the sanctimonious. Not recommended indoors unless you're done with the lease.

  The only spell that didn’t threaten to erode what was left of his mind was Hellflame Bolt. It had worked well against the Warden, but if the description was to be believed, it would be the height of irresponsibility to test it out in enclosed quarters. Besides, if his other skills were anything to go by, Hellflame would get restless if not given an enemy right away.

  Virgil closed the list of skills. “I don’t feel comfortable casting any of the infernal skills outside of combat,” he told Inara. “They’re… destructive.”

  She frowned but nodded. “I understand. The next time we are in combat though, are you comfortable at least using the Hellfire Bolt?”

  “It’s Hellflame. And, yes. I can do that.”

  “Good. Then let’s all prepare for the next floor.”