X flicked her gaze to the orb inside the black box. It still glowed yellow, steady and unchanged.

  It should have turned red by now.

  That didn’t make sense. The outskirts of dungeons were typically stable, nearly harmless. Adjustments only occurred when threats exceeded expectations.

  Yet the roar echoed again, closer this time.

  Lost in thought, she barely registered Adam’s voice until it reached her.

  “The golem said this dungeon would correspond to our ranks,” he said calmly. “Correct?”

  X snapped out of her daze. “Yes,” she replied. “As Priests, anything above a C-rank dungeon would be suicidal.”

  “Have you taken this route before?”

  “No,” she answered immediately. “This is my first time.”

  “Alright,” Adam said. “Let’s keep moving.”

  X frowned, eyes narrowing as she watched his back.

  He’s up to something… Is this revenge for the stunt earlier?

  “I’ll go ahead,” Adam added casually. “Catch up later.”

  Before she could react, his body blurred—and vanished.

  X halted mid-step, blinking. “What…?”

  He disappeared?

  Her instincts rejected the idea of an illusion almost immediately. There—faint impressions in the dust. Disturbed gravel. Residual pressure.

  How did he move that fast?

  The ground suddenly shuddered.

  Dust rained from the ceiling as small rocks broke free. The tremor deepened, accompanied by guttural grunts and shrill squeals echoing through the cavern.

  X’s expression hardened.

  Dungeon dwellers already?

  That made no sense.

  Then the darkness ahead bloomed with rosy light.

  Massive warthogs burst into view, their bodies wreathed in pinkish flames. They thundered forward in a frenzied charge, eyes overflowing with bloodlust. The smallest stood nearly four feet tall; the largest loomed well over five. And unlike ordinary warthogs, they had three eyes.

  “Fyro Warthogs…” X breathed.

  She inhaled sharply. Something felt wrong—deeply wrong. The hatred radiating from them wasn’t territorial instinct.

  It was focused.

  Before she could process it fully, disjointed howls joined the din—wet, broken sounds layered with shrill, gyrating hisses.

  More shapes emerged behind the warthogs.

  Decomposing, jackal-like creatures dragged themselves forward, flesh sloughing from bone. Massive black spiders skittered along the walls and ceiling, their movements accompanied by a piercing screech that scraped against the mind.

  “Fyro Warthogs… Necro Jackals… Black-Screech Spiders…” X whispered.

  Her stomach sank.

  What did he do?

  Each of these creatures was a well-known territorial dweller. They should never have converged—let alone advanced together.

  Individually, they were considered equivalent to D-rank Awakened.

  Together…

  “I’m an Illusionist,” she muttered, teeth grinding. “I can’t fight this many at once.”

  Her gaze flicked instinctively toward the path Adam had taken.

  That fucking bastard… He left me to die.

  Her jaw tightened.

  Then X closed her eyes.

  When they opened again, they were pure white.

  Her hands moved in rapid succession, forming precise gestures. A gray barrier shimmered into existence around her body, solidifying just as seven indistinct shapes tore themselves free from the ether.

  They circled her.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Formless. Featureless.

  And then they howled.

  The sound was maddening—raw and layered, louder than the combined roars of the approaching beasts. The dungeon dwellers skidded to a halt, instinct overriding bloodlust.

  The shapes began to change.

  Their bodies thickened, stretching upward. Cloth manifested where none had existed before. Hoods formed, shadows swallowing their faces. Heavy weapons appeared in their grasp—axes, swords, executioner blades dripping with illusionary malice.

  Seven medieval executioners stood guard.

  At the same time, the barrier surrounding X darkened—unnaturally so—until it turned pitch-black, swallowing all light that touched it.

  The dungeon held its breath.

  For the first time since the encounter began, fear flickered across the beasts’ faces.

  Not all of them hesitated.

  Two massive Fyro Warthogs charged the barrier head-on, flames shifting from pink to a violent crimson. From the opposite side, three Necro Jackals lunged forward, acidic fluid sloughing from their decomposing maws. Above them, a Black-Screech Spider scuttled across the ceiling, launching a web toward the barrier.

  The executioners did not move.

  Their eyes burned like blood-red lanterns suspended in darkness.

  When less than two meters separated the beasts from the barrier, the seven executioners released a unified war cry. Their bodies swelled to triple their original size.

  Then they charged.

  They appeared before the creatures like specters. Massive weapons descended in crushing arcs, and in that same instant, unseen by any of the beasts, several needle-thin projectiles slipped out from the barrier itself.

  Moments later, bodies hit the ground.

  Warthogs, jackals, and the spider lay motionless, blood erupting from dozens of puncture wounds.

  The executioners returned to their positions beside the barrier, once again eerily still.

  Silence followed.

  Then the remaining beasts unleashed a unified, ear-splitting howl that shook the dungeon walls.

  They charged.

  This time, the executioners met them head-on.

  Dozens of needle-like projectiles sprayed from the barrier, though their numbers paled in comparison to the horde.

  Shrieks echoed as beasts collapsed, their bodies riddled with holes. Blood slicked the stone floor and walls. The survivors used fallen corpses as shields, pushing forward relentlessly.

  They had learned.

  The barrier was the true threat.

  Like a tidal wave drawing back before crashing forward, the warthogs slammed into the barrier in perfect coordination, tusks grinding against its surface. The jackals followed, spewing corrosive green acid that ate through sections of the shield.

  Black spiders reinforced the assault, anchoring webs to walls and ceilings, pulling the warthogs forward with terrifying force.

  The barrier regenerated, but not fast enough.

  Seven warthogs struck at once.

  The barrier shattered.

  At the same instant, the executioners dissolved into mist, vanishing as if they had never existed.

  The beasts skidded to a halt, confused, snarling as they searched for their prey.

  There was nothing.

  After sacrificing so many of their kin, they refused to believe a single human had deceived them.

  Far deeper within the dungeon, X sprinted.

  Her lungs burned as she cursed Adam with every step.

  If they hadn’t hesitated—even for a second—I’d be dead. And I didn’t plan on using the Twilight Needles this early…

  Blood streamed from a gash on her right arm. Smaller cuts marred her face. She clutched the black box tightly, it had shrunk slightly, now glowing red instead of yellow.

  They’ll realize soon. I need to find the exit now.

  She skidded to a halt as two paths branched before her.

  She raised the box toward the first.

  No change.

  Toward the second, the light shifted back to yellow.

  This is the exit… huh?

  A red streak tore through the air toward her, approaching at a speed too fast to follow.

  And no matter what she did, she knew she couldn’t dodge it.

  Am I going to die here?

  X bit her lower lip. I’m sorry, Ash. It seems I won’t be seeing you again.

  The blur arrived.

  Instinctively, X squeezed her eyes shut.

  One second.

  Two.

  Three.

  Nothing happened.

  I’m… alive?

  She opened her eyes and recoiled as a familiar stench flooded her lungs.

  Blood.

  Her gaze dropped.

  She stood at the center of a bloody pool, thick and dark—one that hadn’t existed moments ago.

  Her breath hitched.

  Slowly, she turned.

  Then she saw them.

  Her legs gave out, and she fell back with a wet plop, breath caught painfully in her throat.

  Chameleon-like corpses lay strewn only inches away, their iridescent hides dulled and split open.

  “Rainbow Chameleons…?” she whispered.

  Her blood ran cold.

  No. No, no, no.

  These creatures never hunted alone.

  Her pulse spiked.

  I need to move—now.

  As if the dungeon itself had peeled back a veil, the walls rippled.

  Six humanoid figures emerged.

  Their bodies shimmered with ever-shifting hues, skin refracting light like broken glass. Widened mouths revealed rows of razor-sharp teeth, and their eyes locked onto her with predatory hunger.

  Her retreat was blocked. So was her advance.

  X straightened.

  Her gaze hardened—no fear, no hesitation.

  She tightened her grip around the black box.

  Even if I die… I’ll take every last one of you with me.

  The ground trembled.

  A chorus of howls and squeals echoed through the cavern.

  X staggered.

  The creatures faltered.

  Confusion rippled through the dungeon dwellers.

  Her jaw clenched. Why am I so damn unlucky today?

  She braced herself. Then a whirling echo tore through the air.

  Two crimson blurs streaked past her.

  “What—?”

  Before she could process it, a hand settled firmly on her shoulder.

  X nearly screamed.

  “Leave them to me,” a familiar voice said calmly. “You can go ahead.”

  She spun.

  He didn’t escape.

  Relief crashed over her so suddenly it left her dizzy.

  Then came the thuds.

  Heavy. Wet.

  She watched as the bodies of the Rainbow Chameleons collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

  Her mouth opened.

  “If you delay any longer,” he cut in coldly, “don’t blame me for what happens next.”

  She froze.

  His voice was icy, void of warmth. More terrifying was his gaze. His eyes were pitch-black.

  Not shadowed.

  Not dimmed.

  Black—as though something else stared out from behind them.

  She swallowed hard and turned, sprinting toward the path she’d marked earlier.

  “Hey!” she called suddenly.

  He turned.

  Their eyes met.

  “Don’t die,” she said softly. “You owe me—for abandoning me earlier.”

  Adam smirked.

  He watched her disappear without looking back.

  Then he raised his arms.

  Above him, a blood-soaked Cataclysm reemerged; spinning, humming with restrained annihilation.

  [Title: Devourer Activated!]

  “Come out,” Adam whispered.

  Salma.

  Nokum.

  And the other Familiars manifested.

  They emerged from the shadows, prostrating themselves behind him.

  “Oh, yes, Adam,” a demonic voice crooned, vibrating with delight. “Let us feast on these inconsequential beings who dared to consider us prey. Let us break their necks, drain their blood, savor the marrow from their pitiful bones…”

  A low laugh followed.

  “I can feel it,” the voice continued. “You want this too.”

  Then, the bestial horde surged forward.