They weren’t all prepared for it when it happened. In fact, the group had just made it onto the much cleaner path when a scream split the air.

  One of the human adventurers was dragged into the bushes surrounding two broken, old, small mud buildings, and then they came. These weren't the shambling kind. They weren't sluggish, and they ran fast.

  Ghouls. Lots of ghouls, and they came hissing, snarling, and lunging. The path erupted in chaos. The attack had come out of nowhere, and the adventurers scrambled to get their wits about them.

  Damian gripped his blade, and Darrow flipped his daggers out.

  “Time to earn it Damian,” he said.

  One of the ghouls rushed them, and they stood shoulder to shoulder.

  Its limbs were long, filled with jagged claws, and as if it realised they were the weakest, it jumped towards them. Damian blocked and spun, the force of the creature’s blow rattling his bones.

  Darrow slashed its flank, and the large ghoul whirled on him. Damian shoved it back, then Darrow dove low and cut a slice across its leg.

  It shrieked, then struck wildly, its limbs clawing around in the air. Damian used his [Lesser Strength] skill. He parried the blow and brought his blade down.

  Darrow stabbed upward and felt the steel and dagger meeting flesh. They both pushed forward, and the ghoul seized up and then collapsed.

  More revenant zombies rushed the adventurers, but after the surprise attack the monsters had launched, the adventurers dispatched them easily. The ash scattered around them, and Damian’s chest fell and rose.

  Damian pulled his sword out of the ghoul, and he exhaled, shaking.

  “Not bad,” Darrow smirked, sheathing his daggers.

  “Well, we’re not dead yet,” Damian said.

  They felt it then—a power rushing through their bodies.

  Damian felt the level up and heard the voice in his head:

  [Dualist Level Five — Dualist Level Six.]

  [Mourn Twin Level Five — Mourn Twin Level Six.]

  It was different for Darrow, at least half of what he felt.

  [Initiate Spy Level Five — Initiate Spy Level Seven.]

  [Mourn Twin Level Five — Mourn Twin Level Six.]

  When the legendary class levelled up, the magic changed. It rippled outward and drew attention. The adventurers didn't feel it, but Damian and Darrow did. The magic filled their legendary class, and their bodies felt lighter.

  When they levelled up in the low-ranked dungeon, something was noticed. The magic that had been recently absorbed by them suddenly grew thicker and heavier around them. This was one of the reasons Aunt Cassandra had kept them in the dark, even hidden.

  Something in the pocket realm turned to observe them, and the adventurers and lionin felt their [Danger Sense] skills go off.

  They didn't have a [Danger Sense], but they had [Shared Fear], an epic skill. It allowed them to sense danger for either one of them.

  “What did you do?” Ulivia asked. Her [Sense Magic] skill was flaring up around the two.

  “What did they do?” Karl asked.

  “It’s not them, it’s the dungeon,” Rraan said, dismissing the two brothers who clearly looked confused.

  Just then, the entire dungeon shook, and whatever was in the corrupted monastery roared. It sent a chill down their backs, and the air shook, causing dust and ash to rise, bellowing down the mountain.

  “We have to head back,” Ulivia the mage, said.

  If the dungeon was alive, it watched them. It had its eye on the adventurers now, and the magic was quickly growing, elevating it from a silver-rank dungeon to a gold-rank dungeon.

  “Look,” Damian pointed down at the ridge overlooking the jagged path.

  The adventurers and lionin followed his gaze. Over the ridge, the piles of dead bodies were stitching themselves together, arms were moving, and the undead were rising from within.

  “We have to leave. It will take time for the dungeon to become gold-rank,” Karl the [Shield Warrior] said.

  “I think it’s too late for that,” Rraan said, changing his stance to face back the way they had come. Ghouls filled the path, and they came from the two paths they had avoided and blocked off the exit.

  “We can’t go back, but we can kill the boss before it gains a lot of power and cause the dungeon to spit us out,” Karl said.

  “I agree,” Rraan said, and before they could go any further, the ghouls rushed forward. The mages and archers released their arrow skills they had been keeping for the boss fight.

  Fireballs, ice shards, and expensive magic arrows were thrown at the ghouls, but they just kept on coming. They turned and ran forward. If they killed the boss, then this would all end.

  The first wave crashed into them, and they cut it down. The warriors and rogues cut down the ghouls to the last one, but they knew it wasn’t over. They could see the zombies in the back transforming, and they had to keep moving up towards the monastery.

  When the elite adventurers regrouped after that, two of them were gravely injured, and one of the lionin was bleeding from a gut wound.

  Luckily, they had a healer.

  “These aren’t fodder,” Ulivia cursed, looking around at the larger mana crystals in the bodies.

  “Elite undead,” Damian muttered.

  Darrow nodded grimly.

  “I think we should still head back,” one of the injured warriors said.

  “No, if we do that, the dungeon will definitely kill us—you felt it after we killed those ghouls.”

  “What do you suggest?” Rraan asked.

  “Let’s clear the dungeon boss and hopefully it will spit us out.”

  “That’s what we came for, after all,” Rraan said.

  Ulivia just slumped her shoulders in defeat.

  “This wave was just the beginning. From now on, we are going to be dealing with ghouls,” Ulivia said.

  “Let’s keep moving then,” the lionin lordling said.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The adventurers grumbled but obeyed. Damian rose with a crystal in his hand, and he wiped away the sweat from his head. He felt uneasy about what was happening.

  “That many ghouls—they’ll thin us out,” Darrow whispered.

  “I know,” Damian muttered.

  “You porters. Remain at the back!” Karl snapped, and he sounded cold and calculating.

  Darrow frowned. He looked at the adventurer's backs, then at his brother. The order, if it was even one, felt wrong, and Damian realised why.

  “We’re bait,” he whispered to his younger brother.

  Darrow frowned, and his eyes sharpened for an instant. He watched as Rraan smirked knowingly.

  “Don't get lost, little lambs,” the lionin mocked, swinging his great axe over one shoulder.

  Damian clenched his jaw, but Darrow hid his fury. They were being set up to die without any help in the back.

  Well, if they thought it would be that easy, then they had another thing coming.

  Darrow dug up one of the rotting, burned fruits from the bush and crushed it in his hands. A foul stench rose from the alien fruit, and he went ahead to offer a handful to Damian.

  “What’s this?” Damian asked, keeping his nose as far from the hand as possible.

  “Think of it as a scent blocker—makes the ghouls and other monsters blind.”

  “Will it work?” he asked.

  Darrow just shrugged.

  “One way to find out.”

  He smeared it across his armour, and Damian recoiled.

  “That’s disgusting,” he said.

  “Better than dying,” Darrow grinned back at him.

  They stunk like rot and ash, and the waves of ghouls attacking the group at times ignored them. For a time, no undead attacked them or the group along the path.

  The adventurers who had put them in the back as bait didn’t notice—or pretended not to—and the brothers walked on quietly and unnoticed as they collected the mana crystals.

  The lionin who wanted them dead most looked at them coldly. After all, Damian knew they had planned their deaths with the noble’s adventurers. Damian realised that he was in a bad situation, not knowing whether they were surrounded by friend or foe.

  “Not yet dead, kitty,” Darrow muttered and waved at Lord Rraan, who huffed in irritation.

  The temple loomed closer than ever now, and its gates were shattered and its walls crumbling. Shapes moved within that red haze, and Darrow gulped.

  Broken statues lined the short road to the entrance, each of them half eroded, half faceless, and stuck in poses of some sort of martial art.

  “It feels like they are watching us,” Damian whispered from the back.

  “Yeah, that’s creepy,” Darrow added.

  “This used to be some sort of temple before the corruption,” Ulivia said as she looked at the tower, and the gates hung half-open.

  There was a clang suddenly, and everyone froze.

  As they watched, figures emerged from the gate.

  They were armed and ghoul-like. Unlike the ghouls who moved on four legs, they moved on two—their long arms holding weapons.

  The ghouls that came chasing them back halted, and Damian noticed that the unarmored ghouls avoided the armoured.

  It seemed like the armed ghouls were protecting something inside—of course, this was before this place had been corrupted by Yandres.

  The armoured ghouls stuttered and fuzzed, their bodies filled with barely restrained power.

  Their eyes glowed faintly as the ghoul knights watched, and their swords dragged sparks on the stone.

  The adventurers tensed at the sight of the monsters. These ghouls were clearly high-level silver-rank threats, but the lionin snarled.

  There was an eager look on Rraan’s face that revealed his sharp teeth.

  “Finally. A challenge,” the lionin lordling said.

  The ghouls raised their swords in unison, and the air hummed at the speed of their movement.

  “That’s bad,” Darrow said.

  “Very bad,” Damian said and raised his sword.

  The knights charged—steel met steel, and sparks exploded in the ashy wind.

  Adventurers cried out as their blades clashed, and warriors parried some of the attacks. Despite all the power of the armoured ghouls, when the adventurers kicked them away, they were unsteady and clumsy.

  The ghoul knights struck with unnatural strength, their bodies strengthened and enhanced by magic.

  One of the two recently injured and healed warriors fell, his throat split, and he gurgled on his way down.

  Ulivia used [Basic Casting] and hurled a ball of fire that washed harmlessly across the armour.

  Damian ducked away, then, like a [Dualist], he parried the ghoul’s sword.

  Darrow appeared behind the armoured undead and stabbed the weak knee joint. The knight staggered but didn’t fall.

  “They’re too strong,” one of the mages said, and in that moment of lost concentration, a ghoul’s spear struck him in the abdomen, then the ghoulish knight lofted the man off the ground and threw him into the wall.

  “They’re too strong!” the lionin yelled, and in response, Rraan roared back and activated one of his skills. His claws flashed, and his mane seemed to float in the wind. He swung his hand and tore one of the knight’s helmets off.

  A rotted skull snarled back at him, and his hand fell on its head. Then, with little to no effort, he crushed it in his claws. But three more closed in.

  Darrow turned around, and the sword swinging for him cut through the porter’s backpack. He slashed at the exposed ankles.

  Damian blocked, then stabbed forward.

  But this was just the beginning. They couldn’t go back—the monsters they had bypassed had been whipped into a frenzy and were mutating. They only had one choice: they had to kill the monster that anchored the portal dungeon.

  “The door!” Lord Rraan shouted to one of his guards, and one of the lionin disengaged from the fighting and went towards the monastery’s door.

  The lionin charged the door, and his axe smashed through the old wood.

  The heavy door creaked and burst inward. A shadow loomed within, then it moved. A ghoul knight appeared and thrust its blade forward.

  The lionin’s eyes went wide, but it was too late—his chest split open, and blood sprayed against the ashy and ancient cobblestone.

  The lionin guard collapsed instantly, dead on the ground, and the ghoul knight stepped over him—it looked to the right for its next target.

  Lord Rraan roared in fury, his face twisted in a sneer, and he flash-stepped forward. His axe arced in a golden flash as he swung, and the ghoul knight’s head went flying off its body.

  Its body slumped beside one of his guards, and his brows knitted seeing one of his warriors dying next to a corrupted revenant.

  He looked up, blocked a sword, and kicked a ghoul, sending it flying back. But he knew, sooner or later, it would get back up and start moving again.

  “Everyone inside now!” Rraan yelled and pointed at the open door leading into the monastery.

  The remaining adventurers looked up—they looked at the open door the lionin leader was protecting and made up their minds. Most were able to disengage, while others weren’t so lucky. They turned and were cut down as they disengaged.

  Damian and Darrow slashed at the revenants from behind—they tried to get through the armour, but these were silver-ranked monsters. In armour, all they were doing was covering a retreat.

  Ashy dust rose as the adventurers ran for the door, ignoring the steady advance of the ghoul knights.

  “Move!” one of the adventurers shouted, and Damian glanced up just in time to see the massive doors begin to close. His stomach lurched when he saw the adventurers sprinting inside.

  “Darrow! They are leaving us!” He tugged at his brother’s cloak.

  Darrow turned and cursed. He didn’t need to be told twice. The brothers turned and ran, but shadows blocked their path. Three ghoul knights crossed their blades before them, and they tensed as they watched the door slam shut with a heavy boom.

  They looked around. They were surrounded by no less than twenty knights who could tear them apart in moments.

  Damian was panting hard, and Darrow was not too far behind in terms of his state as well.

  “We’re cut off,” Darrow said, then cursed under his breath. The crystals from the porter’s bag were spilling onto the ground, thanks to a slash from one of the ghouls during the fight.

  The knights’ eyes were focused solely on them, and they raised their swords, spears, and other weapons in unison.

  “Drop it,” Damian said suddenly.

  “What?” Darrow blinked.

  “The pack with the crystals. It’s too heavy,” Damian said, stepping back.

  There was a bit of hesitation on Darrow’s part, but the bag filled with mana crystals dropped onto the ground a second later with a thud.

  The dwarven guilds, adventurers, and nobles would not be pleased that they had to throw away the loot.

  “Now what?” Darrow asked.

  The ghoul knights hissed, then advanced, and Damian kicked the fallen pack at one of them.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Darrow asked.

  “Creating a path,” he answered.

  The pack was kicked with enough force that after it hit, the monster stumbled back and fell onto the ground. The armour made the ghoul knight unstable.

  “Let’s go,” Damian said and stepped over the ghoul as they moved to the right side of the compound.

  “We should look for another way inside,” Darrow said as ash sprayed under their boots.

  “There!” they both said in unison and ran towards a window arch that was crumbling open ten feet in the air.

  The revenants chased them from behind; they clawed after them, but they ran faster.

  When they reached the spot, Damian pressed his back to the wall and put out his hands in front of him. Darrow placed a foot in Damian’s hands. The other brother braced against the wall, and using his [Lesser Strength], he heaved upward.

  Darrow leapt upward with the motion, and he caught himself on the ledge, then pulled up. He swung up, steadying himself, and then looked back down, hand outstretched.

  “Come on.”

  Damian turned. He stepped back for a running start, then moved to swing his body up with superhuman strength. He crouched, and the skill flickered.

  The dust and stone creaked under his weight, and he went flying upwards. Damian grabbed Darrow’s hand before his brother gritted his teeth and pulled hard.

  Damian scraped the wall but didn’t let go. Together, they stumbled onto the stone flooring, and both of them lay panting in the dim room.

  The ghoul knights pounded uselessly below. The brothers exchanged grim looks; Damian pursed his lips, and Darrow’s face twisted in disgust.

  They had barely made it. They rose slowly and looked around in the silent section of the monastery they found themselves in.

  They looked around—a small room. It was more like a monk’s cell that was long abandoned.

  A dried corpse sat cross-legged on the floor of the small room. Its skin was shrivelled, its robe tattered, and there was a faint glow coming from within its body. They stepped back at the sight of its severed head.