The jewel-studded door into the throne room loomed before me, as imposing as it was gaudy. I drew the Blade of Light, shielded my eyes with my free hand, and stabbed forward. There was a cascade of sparks that indicated failing wards. Probably something nasty; the owner of the castle wasn't called the Dread Lord for nothing.

I sheathed the blade—didn't know a lick of swordsmanship, but it was dead-useful in disabling magic—and carefully nudged the door open with my foot. Honestly, I would have preferred to storm this place at the back of an army, but my party had different ideas. Something about a Prophecy and me being the only one able to defeat the evil. What nonsense. The strongest opponent I'd defeated with my own power was that hellhound I accidentally stabbed in the eye five years ago. Saved a princess, too, and got to freeload in her palace for half a year before my party caught up with me to drag me back into the fray. Good times.

The door swung inward silently, revealing a dark, high-ceilinged hall beyond. Of course it was dark. I had long since found that most people had no common sense—not that I minded. That's what allowed me to cheat, lie, and swindle my way through for so long. Although with this final showdown, the jig just might be up.

Sighing, I checked the potions and wands I had stashed in my jacket and tiptoed inside. Black columns decorated with stone gargoyles stretched toward a vaulted ceiling. The shadows between them were dark and thick, yet no monster jumped out to ambush me. That was a relief. It would be an embarrassment for everyone involved if I got shanked by a goblin before facing my nemesis.

The Dread Lord lounged upon his throne of bones, looking properly evil in his spiky black armor. I came closer on shaky legs, drew my sword, and tossed back my cloak in that way that made ladies swoon.

"Y-your reign of evil ends now, Dread Lord." Damn stutter. Now I had to kill this guy lest it ruin my reputation.

"Chosen One." The Dread Lord rose slowly to his feet. "We meet at last. You've been a constant thorn in my side, but that ends today."

I swallowed and tilted back my head. No one had told me he would be like nine feet tall. "Give it up, Dread Lord. Your armies lay defeated; your lieutenants vanquished to the last." I cleared my throat. "Seriously, give up. I promise you a fair trial and a cozy cell. The dungeon's not much worse than this place, honestly."

The Dread Lord tilted his helmet. "Showing mercy to your worst enemy... You are a hero indeed. Alas, we both know that only one of us will walk out of here alive."

He drew his sword, which was about as tall as me—how was that fair? I backpedaled, holding up the Blade of Light. That black armor was known to be impervious to spells; none of my wands or potions would so much as dent it. The Blade might, but the less said about my swordsmanship, the better. No, the only way I would get out of this mess is the same way I got into it.

I tossed the Blade of Light aside, and it landed on the stone floor with a clatter. The Dread Lord paused in his advance and stared at me. I swallowed under his burning gaze.

"I don't need to fight you," I said with all the confidence I could muster, "because I've already won."

The Dread Lord didn't immediately laugh, so that was good. He studied me for a time, then lowered his sword, which was even better. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked in a low voice.

I squared my shoulders and tried to look as sure of myself as back when I scammed Duke Poppington out of his life savings. "Exactly as you heard. Just as I foiled all your other plans, I foiled you one last time. You're already as good as dead; you just don't know it."

"Impossible! You couldn't have..." The eyeholes in Dread Lord's helmet burned red, and he turned swiftly toward a gargoyle. "Where's my phylactery?"

The gargoyle contorted as something enormous bulged in its stomach, and opened wide its grotesque maw. Inside lay a red jewel the size of a baby's head, pulsing eerily as if it were alive. Gotcha.

The Dread Lord raised his sword and lunged at me with a roar, but I was already drawing my most powerful wand, my heart racing like never before. Even as the gargoyle started closing its maw, I thrust out the wand. A lance of blinding light erupted, taking with it the gargoyle's head, the column, and a stretch of the wall behind it as the wand exploded in my hand.

There was a strange gurgle, and a thud that shook the floor, but I was too busy flailing around blindly to pay attention. Once I finally blinked the red afterimages from my vision, the Dread Lord lay still before me.

I crept closer and poked the helmet with my foot. Nothing. Kicked it. Still nothing; nice ring though. That's when I threw my hands up in the air and cheered.

"Take that! Oh yeah! Another victory for the Chosen One! Ow, ow." Wincing, I pulled a splinter from my bleeding hand. Phew. Pestering that doddering archmage to charge a wand with his most powerful spell had been worth it in the end.

Sunlight spilled through the gap I'd made in the wall, and voices filtered in. Right; my party was waiting for the outcome of the battle outside, useless tag-alongs that they were. I hurriedly picked up the Blade of Light, set my foot on the Dread Lord's chest, and shoved the sword through the breastplate. Just as the first face appeared in the gap in the wall, I plastered a properly heroic expression on my face and tossed back my cloak. Nailed it.