The Bronze Age. Ancient civilizations, the true birth of history as we know it. A time, when Humans set out on the road of over-engineering – inventing an excellent alloy, that was used for almost seven millennia to make axes, swords, and cannons, and so making killing other Humans much, much easier. The will to make killing easier as opposed to the extra effort to make a complicated alloy, instead of just digging up a bit of the most abundant element in all the multiverses and making stuff out of it. Of course, Moronium is notoriously difficult to handle, but you could always export it to your enemies and use iron instead.


    The dungeon didn''t use iron – or Moronium – as the theme for the third floor but went with the classical choice, bronze. There was even a bronze vein in the very first room.


    “Bronze isn''t an ore! It''s an alloy! How can there be a bronze vein here?!?" Prof exclaimed.


    “How high is your [Mining] and [Smithing] again?” Mini asked


    “Mumble-mumble.”


    “Speak up! I can’t hear you!”


    “13% and zero…”


    “See? You aren’t proficient enough in either to criticize some completely natural resource node!”


    “Sure, ok. What next? An aluminium-ore vein?”


    “What''s aluminum?"


    “Never mind…”


    The first room on the third floor was actually styled as a mine. It had bronze ore deposits (Prof still was fairly sure, that was impossible), a couple of miners, and a guard with a vicious dog. The process of degenerating wolves clearly reached a point, where the outcome was actually better than the starting point, but did not reach the lapdog phase yet. Prof wasn''t exactly sure if that particular watchdog was possible without mixing sharks, bears, and some primordial terror into a wolf, but who was he to complain? Every relevant Skill he had, was fairly low. For all he knew, the breed was absolutely normal on Arkadia.


    The MOB on the third floor was high enough Level, that the first problems started to surface. While Prof was still able to defeat the miners one-on-one, the guard was evenly matched. In Skills, that is. His gear wasn’t up to Prof’s stuff, especially Armorbane. No common bronze plate was up to the weapon’s fantasy bullshit alloy and enchantments. The challenge was only to hit the tribal rent-a-cop.


    That was why Prof lugged Mini and Sharpclaw around: a crossbow bolt or two into the head or a dagger into the kidneys was easier done than hitting someone with an axe and achieving a Critical Hit.


    According to the guide, the bronze veins could be mined, but none of them were good enough at extracting ore from stones to give it a try. There were a few lumps of ore already mined, and the party was happy to collect them.


    The second room was again a settlement: a central stone “fortress”, that could be called a separate room in itself, and a collection of wooden and stone houses. As they entered, the inhabitants were alerted by baying dogs – so much for a surprise raid. At first, the party had to defeat unorganized “civilians”, wielding tools, but soon the white-clad village guard arrived, advancing in a slow phalanx, supported by a couple of archers. In contrast to the other white-clad bunch of foot soldiers, these were able to hit shit. Fortunately, no one wore red shirts, or they would have been in serious trouble.


    Everyone knows redshirts die like flies.


    Defeating the trained phalanx wasn''t exactly easy even so; neither Bianca nor Prof was able to get close enough to start sending the guard back to the eternal spawning pool, nor could they maneuver into the flanks. Both sides were protected by buildings. Sharpclaw was off to off the archers, and Mini was trying to take potshots at the soldiers. Cute little Binky was sorely missed. Normally, they would just send the over-leveled (and slightly overweight) scorpionlizard in to have an early dinner. This was probably another of Mini''s lessons: don''t count on your cheat power to save the day every time. Especially, if your cheat power was another person''s mount.


    It took a few minutes for Sharpclaw to neutralize the back row – a long enough time for Prof to collect a few wounds. Obviously, if you try to plow through a row of spears, not even good armor is sufficient to get out unhurt. Probably it was this little bit of effect, Humanity kept using long pieces of wood with pointy metal tips on at least one end for a couple of millennia. Polearms and phalanxes (however they were actually named) had one inherent weakness: if a stealthy Kobold arrived from behind, even the best phalanx was prone to be annihilated.


    Well, the stealthy Kobold managed to annihilate exactly one spear-wielding guard, before a powerful kick of another sent her flying. This revealed the inherent weakness of stealthy Kobolds as military units: if they met an armored boot, they were prone to be annihilated.


    The gap in the line was large enough, however, for both Bianca and Prof to slip inside the spears, and start rolling up the front. Not, that there was much of a “front” there – only three guards on each side. Even that decreased to two on each side within seconds: one on Bianca’s side was finally headshot by Mini, and Prof used Armorbane on the one, that kicked Sharpclaw. The rest was actually hampered now by their spears, so the legendary Battle of the Third Floor concluded in short order.


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    Prof raced over to Sharpclaw to check on her but found her just sitting next to a building.


    “You all right?”


    “Ssssurvived kick barely. Ssssaved by Perk.”


    Oh, her Cheat Power: Blessed Life. If not for the Perk’s mysterious effect of protecting someone from instant death every now or then, they would be short a Kobold already. Prof handed her a few Health Potions and turned back to their gains.


    With the new loot – spears and bronze armor – they started to have problems. Namely, they had only Prof''s Girly Backpack of Holding, two normal backpacks, and a few smaller pieces. It was simply impossible to fit every last piece of loot into their packs. Or, as in the case of the spears, do anything with them. Although Bianca wasn''t bad with polearms, she was still better with swords, and her sword was way better than the dungeon loot. It took them almost an hour to dismantle most of the weapons, throwing the handles away and only keeping the heads. Since the bronze armor was more valuable than most clutter they were hauling around, a good part joined the handles in the discard pile. Even so, they could only find space for only two sets. The rest they were lugging around in their hands.


    Prof debated if hiring a baggage carrier would be profitable. They could loot more but would have to pay the person. He needed to make inquiries, as soon as they got back to the city.


    Even without much space, they decided to continue the run to the end. There wasn’t much left, only the central “fortress”, another labyrinth – this time, styled as a crypt – and the last boss.


    The "fortress" had three Elite guards (Level 7), an Elite mage of some kind (Level 8), and one of the most deadly military units known across all the multiverses: a maid. Prof was terrified. With a maid on the opposite team, they had no chance whatsoever, they were going to be killed off in a matter of seconds! No one could stand against a maid! No matter, how good Shaprclaw was at stabbing people, what kind of sharpshooter Mini was, or how excellent Prof was at bashing heads, it was a maid!


    Well, not exactly. The guide clearly stated that the maid wasn''t a hidden infiltrator with a fantasy alloy endoskeleton and mimetic skin, but a female with a very high Skill in cleaning, serving alcohol, and poisoning people. In fact, she didn''t even had the customary French maid uniform, just the normal, undyed clothes, everyone on the third floor wore.


    Just to be absolutely sure, Mini shot her in the face twice.


    The mage didn''t have a chance either; as Prof learned, it was hard to cast spells, when you had a knife in your lungs. Who would have thought? Killing off the Elite guards was actually hard. They outskilled both Bianca and Prof, the two apprentice adventurers could do nothing more than defend. With the constricted space, Mini couldn''t use her crossbow and had to help the other two out in close-quarter fighting. The stalemate was broken when Prof finally managed to land a lucky hit after one of the guards tripped on their dropped loot.


    Sometimes it was good to haul around a ton or two of clutter. Mostly, if you drop it at the feet of your enemies before start fighting them.


    The loot this time consisted of the guard''s gear, two magical amulets from the mage, and half a liter of poison from the maid. Not counting a jug of wine from the same source. Also, they plundered the "fortress" bare – including a full set of very nicely done bronze tableware, that they elected to keep, and a few ceramic vases (red figures on black background. Bianca blushed, seeing the depictions). Prof also found a rusty nail, sticking out of a beam. He took that too.


    The labyrinth was a bit harder and bigger than the one on the second floor, with marginally better traps. Prof thought a party without a dedicated trapsniff would have been in some trouble – anyone, who made it so far, would have survived the traps, but they would have been annoying nonetheless. In his opinion, the labyrinth was more spooky than dangerous. For example, when a mummified corpse just fell on one of them – it was NOT Prof – the poor person – who was definitely NOT Prof – let out a very girly sounding scream. The person, who was, absolutely NOT Prof, almost got a heart attack, and almost soiled his pants. Since the person was honestly not Prof, the pronoun "his" is just a mistake by the author.


    After Mini finished laughing, she helped Prof to his feet. Since, well, he slipped in a completely unrelated accident.


    At least they managed to liberate some bone, copper, and bronze trinkets from the occupants of the labyrinth. Prof estimated the aggregate value at a silver or two, but every little bit helped in postponing poverty.


    It was finally time for the floor boss and as such concluding their voyage through Human technological evolution. The Boss, this time, wasn''t a collective one, but a lone specimen, dressed up as a king – a king of a Bronze Age kingdom, that is, or how the dungeon imagined it, at least. His undyed clothes had some stripes, he had a lion skin on his back (the head functioning as a helmet), and a circlet, as a representation of a crown. As soon as the party entered the throne room, he stood up and grabbed a spear and a shield. There wasn''t a lengthy monologue, just an immediate charge.


    Bianca successfully blocked, but was sent flying. Probably they shouldn''t have picked a smallish girl as their wall, physics worked on Arkadia too. Unfortunately, Bianca was the closest to actually knowing anything about blocking and defending, so they had to stick with her as the wall. Mini''s bolts uselessly clattered against the Boss'' shield, and Sharpclaw wasn''t able to get behind the boss, so it was up to Prof to defeat a Level 10 Boss.


    The idea was to block the spear with Armorbane – since the boss wasn''t wearing armor – and let loose with The Chopper. Basically, the idea was sound, the only problem was his low [Parry] and [Block]. With the unusually large difference to [Evade], he had to consciously concentrate on blocking or parrying, instead of just jumping around. One missed parry instantly shaved half of his HP away – all he could show in return was a small hit, and even that wasn''t Critical. It was clear, he couldn''t survive a battle of attrition, the Boss simply had too much HP. As it was, he needed a shot HP-potion fast – another hit, and he was done. However, getting a pottery shot glass (glass was too expensive) out of his bandoleer, uncorking it, a drinking the potion required a free hand. Both of his were occupied with his weapons.


    Before he had to disarm himself, Bianca and Mini arrived.


    Ganging up on the Floor Boss was easy after that. It only took a quarter of an hour before the boss finally succumbed to a serious iron (and fantasy metal) poisoning.