“Help me! Do something!”

  Hebert’s voice cracked like breaking ice as the Glacius Cerberian lunged straight at him, its three snarling maws spilling waves of frigid mist across the floor.

  The curse of Cerberal Cataclysm still clung to his body like a frost-ridden shroud, shredding his defenses greatly. One clean hit would end him.

  Marcy finally moved.

  The black tattoos coiling along her arms shivered, then writhed. They peeled from her skin like living ink, twisting in the air before swelling outward, thickening, taking form. In seconds, a massive pitch-black tiger slammed into existence beside her, its body rippling with shadow and power.

  Byros Manifestation?!

  My pulse skipped a beat. A skill from Whitefang Byros, the hidden third-floor monster. But the tattoos… that had never existed in the game.

  The shadow tiger roared and pounced, intercepting the Cerberian mid-charge. Its jaws clamped onto the beast’s middle neck, the impact shaking the ground.

  Darwyn capitalized instantly, three arrows streaked past me, drilling into the Cerberian’s flailing neck. Meanwhile I continued pushing Rejuvenation into Muradin’s motionless body.

  “Come on, come on…”

  A twitch. Then another. Muradin’s chest finally rose with a ragged breath.

  “He’s alive!”

  No time to celebrate.

  Darwyn’s next arrow buried itself deep into the Cerberian’s left skull. It jerked violently, the eerie blue glow in its eyes flickering… then fading. The head sagged, lifeless and heavy.

  The remaining two heads shrieked in fury, ramming the shadow tiger backward, frost-laced claws carving furrows into the ground.

  I cast another Wind Cutter. The blade of air sliced across a snout, just enough to divert its attention.

  “Brace!” Marcy yelled.

  The Cerberian inhaled.

  A blast of freezing breath detonated outward. Ice shards hammered into us like crushing hail. I shielded my face, breath trapped in my throat.

  Hebert staggered up, spotted a narrow opening, and swung…

  But the Cerberian moved faster.

  A massive claw swept his sword aside with contemptuous force. Then the right head snapped downward with surgical brutality.

  Its jaws closed around Hebert’s left arm.

  And tore it off.

  Blood arced across the ice like a crimson spray.

  “MY ARM—ARGHHH! MY ARM!!”

  Hebert’s scream shredded the air, raw and primal. The severed limb hung grotesquely between the Cerberian’s serrated teeth before the monster flung it aside.

  His eyes went wide and glassy. Shock, terror, disbelief all twisting together into something close to madness.

  “You—YOU SON OF A BITCH!” He swung weakly with his remaining arm. Desperate. Sloppy.

  The Cerberian batted him aside like a toy.

  I thrust my scepter again.

  [Wind Cutter cast – effect stacked. Damage increased]

  Compressed blades of air carved into the Cerberian’s hide, slicing through fur and flesh beneath the freezing mist.

  Then I noticed it.

  The shadow tiger’s body flickered once, twice.

  Wisps of black ink peeled away from its form like ash blown by wind.

  We’re running out of time.

  Darwyn fired a Lightning Bolt. The crackling strike hit the middle head squarely between the eyes, snapping its head back. Hebert, pale and trembling, drove his sword into the exposed wound with a hoarse snarl of defiance.

  The head convulsed… then fell limp.

  Hebert collapsed to one knee, face drained of all color, blood pouring from the stump of his arm. Pride kept him silent. He refused to beg for healing.

  Not that I had a second to spare.

  I raised the scepter again, wind spiraling tighter, sharper.

  “I can’t hold it much longer!” Marcy’s voice cracked, her tiger’s fangs already half-transparent as it clamped onto the final neck.

  “No need,” I said. “You’re not the only one hiding something.”

  Wind surged around me. Mana roared through the Fangbone Scepter, pressure building like a storm trapped in my bones.

  The moment I’d been waiting for.

  A fracture of power split the air.

  I timed the release for the exact micro-second the Cerberian’s middle throat exposed its soft under-flesh.

  [Wind Cutter: Max Stacks Reached]

  [Hidden Effect Unlocked — Tornado Slash]

  A shrieking vortex erupted from the point of impact, the vacuum pulled so violently it inhaled the surrounding frost mist and the monster into a singular, crushing point of pressure.

  The Cerberian didn’t even have time to roar. The tornado swallowed it whole, ripping through flesh, muscle, ice, and bone in a howling storm.

  The shadow tiger was instantly consumed, dissolving into drifting wisps as the vortex ripped past it.

  The storm raged for several harrowing seconds until finally, quietly, it died.

  What remained of the Cerberian lay twitching in a ruined heap, blood pooling beneath it.

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  Darwyn and Abbot finished the job, arrows plunging into its torn hide until the beast finally dissolved into fading motes of light.

  A sharp series of chimes echoed through the chamber.

  Wave cleared.

  ***

  “A deal is a deal,” Marcy snapped as she tucked away a pale-blue orb shimmering with three distinct shades. “This one’s ours.”

  “The hell it is.” My scepter was still humming, the wood hot against my hand as Rejuvenation pulsed over Muradin’s mangled chest. “You already took the Soul Fragment. We held the line, we keep the drops.”

  “If your tank weren’t dead weight, we wouldn’t have a man down,” Abbot shot back, pointing at Hebert.

  The swordsman lay half-conscious, clutching the bleeding stump where his arm used to be. Frost still clung to his armor, melting slowly into crimson.

  Darwyn didn't yell this time. The silence that came from him was far more dangerous. He reached into his quiver, pulling an imbued arrow with his flaring hand. He notched it in one fluid, mechanical motion, the bowstring groaning under the tension of his shaking rage.

  “Abbot,” Darwyn said, his voice a low, jagged rasp. “I’ve spent time watching arrogant pricks like you get eaten because they couldn't keep their mouths shut. One more word about Muradin, and I’m putting this shaft through your throat. Let’s see how much your ‘contribution’ matters when you’re gargling your own blood.”

  Abbot’s face went pale, then flushed a deep, ugly purple. He stepped forward, his chest nearly touching the arrowhead. “Go on then. Pull the string. Let’s see how far you get without me.”

  “Enough.”

  Marcy’s voice cut the air, cold and clean.

  “You can have three-quarters of the Mana Stones. That’s my offer.”

  Abbot whirled toward her. “What?!”

  A single look from her shut him up.

  “And he’ll heal Hebert,” Marcy added, nodding at me.

  “Only if we get the next Soul Fragment,” I countered.

  A tense moment stretched.

  “…Fine,” she said at last.

  I turned back to Hebert. His eyes were hollow, lost, refusing to accept what his body already had.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, trying to sound lighter. “You can always find a high-grade priest to grow it back.”

  He didn’t react.

  I gave up trying to talk and let Rejuvenation do the work. The bleeding slowed… then ceased. The flesh sealed cleanly, though the absence remained.

  Behind me, Muradin groaned awake. “Erynd… help me up…”

  His crushed leg was reforming under the glow of my spell. I pushed him back down.

  “Sit. Before you undo the healing.”

  I shifted between stabilizing Muradin and keeping Hebert alive, pointedly not thinking too far ahead.

  One armless swordsman. One barely-standing tank. One wizard who couldn’t fight.

  And Marcy… even her ability to summon Byros was off the table now.

  I was starting to doubt whether we could even clear all nine waves. For now, all I could do was gather information.

  “How’d you even get that ability?” I asked Marcy, keeping my tone casual. “Not something you see every day.”

  She didn’t look up. “Consume a Soul Fragment.”

  “…Right,” I said flatly. “Very funny.”

  “I mean, the Celestial Pagoda alone takes absurd resources,” I continued calmly. “And the drop rate—”

  Marcy’s eyes snapped to me, sharp with surprise.

  “You really thought you were the only one who knew?” I asked. “You think very highly of yourself.”

  “...What do you want?”

  “Nothing.” I shrugged. “Just making conversation. Though… if I remember right, the cooldown on Byros Manifestation is insanely long, yeah?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  “It is when half the party’s crippled,” I said. “Hiding information is how teams die.”

  “I’m perfectly fine!” Muradin blurted, though the state of his leg said otherwise.

  I shot him a look. He shut up.

  “By the way,” I added lightly, “did you know the Fragment has a special mechanism?”

  Marcy froze.

  Then she stood, staring at me as if I’d walked across a line I shouldn’t have.

  “…How do you know about that?” she whispered.

  So she did know.

  My interest sharpened. “How many do you have? Just one? Or—”

  “You shouldn’t flaunt that kind of knowledge,” she said, voice low. “People who can’t keep their mouths shut… they tend to end badly.”

  “Is she threatening you?” Muradin asked helpfully.

  I closed my eyes for half a second. This dwarf really couldn’t read the room.

  “I’m not worried,” I lied smoothly to her. “You’re not that reckless. And we still have six waves. We either work together or die.”

  Then I took a breath. “I’ll go first. We still have one trump card, but we’re saving it for the final wave.”

  “Erynd, shut up,” Muradin hissed.

  Marcy ignored him. “What trump card?”

  “The dwarf’s ultimate attack,” I answered. “One strike strong enough to leave the Glacius Cerberian on the brink of death.”

  A spark of calculation lit her eyes.

  “But the cooldown is absurd,” I added. “So we save it.”

  She studied me… then slowly nodded.

  “I’ve got the Celestial Dragon,” she said quietly.

  “Celestial Dragon, huh?” I shook my head slowly. “You really are something.”

  I never expected her to have that.

  Her lips curled faintly.

  “Well,” she said quietly, “you’re not the only one hiding something.”

  She stepped away, gathering the last of the drops. Only three countdown crystals left.

  I helped Muradin stand. He was shaking, but functional.

  That’s when the shout split the chamber.

  “HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

  Abbot’s roar echoed off the stone.

  Before any of us could react, he shoved Ivvan hard. The smaller man hit the floor, dazed. Abbot drove a boot into his ribs, forcing a sickening crack.

  “Abbot!” Darwyn lunged toward him. “What’s wrong with you?!”

  “I saw it!” Abbot jabbed a shaking finger. “He was pocketing something!”

  He stomped on Ivvan’s stomach, forcing a choking cry out of him. “Spit it out, you little rat!”

  Ivvan trembled, fumbling into his pocket. A handful of stones clattered across the floor.

  “That’s enough!” Darwyn yanked Abbot back, muscles shaking with effort.

  Breathing hard, Abbot tore himself free but didn’t advance again. His jaw clenched tight, fury still boiling behind his eyes.

  Darwyn knelt beside the terrified man. “Go. Back to your place.”

  Ivvan nodded quickly, scrambling away like a frightened animal. He didn’t say a word.

  Abbot scoffed. “You should thank me. Who knows how much he’s stolen before this.”

  The air thickened with tension. No one spoke.

  The countdown crystals dimmed.

  Three… two… one…

  Only one remained, its glow thinning to threads.

  We hurried to our positions.

  Everyone except Abbot.

  He was… moving strangely. His limbs dragging, his body listing forward as if wading through tar.

  “What are you doing?” Hebert barked. “Stop messing around!”

  His voice was stronger now, sounding like his usual self again.

  But Abbot kept moving in slow motion. Something shimmered over his body. A thin gray sheen clung to his skin like a smoke-thin membrane.

  “No,” Marcy cut in. “Something’s wrong.”

  She paused for a moment, then turned to Ivvan. "I don’t know how, but this must be your doing. Free him. Now!"

  She was just as sharp as I’d expected.

  Ivvan didn’t answer. He only stared at Abbot, a faint, satisfied look in his eyes.

  Hebert looked at him in disbelief. “You bastard!”

  Too late.

  Across the chamber, the final crystal flickered. A low buzzing filled the chamber.

  “Shit—Abbot!” Hebert shouted, panic breaking through his rage.

  The crystal dimmed, then vanished. The sealed hole opened, spilling out the skittering noise.

  Abbot stopped moving entirely.

  His scream never came.

  A sharp crack rang out, like a frozen lake splitting open.

  Light bloomed beneath his skin.

  Lines spread.

  Then his body burst.

  Glasslike shards exploded outward, scattering across the floor in glittering fragments.

  Silence fell.

  And just like that…

  Abbot shattered.

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