Chapter 35: Victory or Exhaustion?
The Liberators, now thoroughly coated in slime and righteous indignation, stumbled out of the "Corridor of Whispering Insults"
(Ragnar had decided against the caroling goblins, opting for disembodied voices murmuring things like "Is that a new haircut?
It’s... a choice" and "You call that a heroic stance? My grandmother stands straighter").
Miyamoto Masakado was still fuming about the wooden sword incident, muttering darkly about avenging its "splintered honor."
Isabelle Thorne, her jaw tight, scouted ahead.
"There’s a staircase," she announced, her voice echoing slightly in the oppressive silence.
"It leads down. This must be the second floor."
"Finally!" Masakado exclaimed, pushing past her.
"Enough of these childish games! Let’s find some real monsters and claim some real treasure!"
He seemed to have conveniently forgotten his earlier pronouncements about cleansing and justice, now solely focused on loot.
Torvin the Tank grunted. "Hope it’s not another room full of rubber chickens. Took me ages to get the squeaker out of my boot."