Chapter 169: Loathsome Sacrifice
A deafening sound of clashes erupted across the spacious hall while terrible shockwaves spread outward, shaking the foundation of the dungeon as the remaining three leaders of the subjugation quest continued their dreadful battle against the boss monster.
Seraphina had augmented herself with lightning magic, allowing currents of crackling energy to surge along the surface of her armor while amplifying the speed of her movements to an astonishing degree, to the point that to the naked eye her figure barely resembled anything more than flashes of lightning whenever she dashed from one position to another.
The creature had abandoned all restraint as well, and so it continued to rely on its Camouflage ability constantly, vanishing from sight after several rapid exchanges of blows whenever the pressure created by the group's combined assault began to overwhelm it. In the next moment, the creature would either reappear behind one of them in order to launch a vicious surprise strike within the span of a heartbeat or emerge once more at the far end of the hall while attempting to place a considerable distance between itself and its pursuers.
The former tactic had been countered with exceptional precision by Mistwalker... who, despite maintaining constant offensive pressure against the creature, had also assumed the role of an impenetrable defense on their side. Her elegant katana gliding through the air with almost serene grace as she intercepted every sudden assault directed toward her companions.
Whether the ambush came from above, from the side, or directly ahead did not appear to trouble her in the slightest. In fact, even when the creature's claws were already a fraction of a second away from tearing into their target, Mistwalker somehow managed to appear in that exact location at the perfect moment to redirect the attack with a swift deflection, no matter where she had been standing or how far the distance had separated her from the threatened companion. Her reaction speed was nothing short of extraordinary, an instinctive responsiveness that in certain moments seemed to surpass even the terrifying swiftness of the monster itself.
And whenever the creature attempted to create distance through its sudden disappearances, Seraphina would answer immediately by streaking across the hall like a bolt of lightning descending from the heavens. The creature's first ability allowed it to sense the location and intent of her strikes, which meant that most of her attacks narrowly failed to land decisive blows. But the monster could not simply ignore her presence either, since even the slightest lapse in its attention would result in her sword severing one of its limbs. Because of this constant threat, she had managed to divert most of the creature's attention toward herself.
During those rapid clashes, Seraphina also unleashed several violent arcs of lightning toward the creature, each strike carrying destructive force that cracked the air apart, but the monster simply diverted the spells toward her lunging comrades instead. Through swift evasive maneuvers did Mistwalker and Valric manage to avoid being caught within the redirected bolts that scorched the stone floor upon impact.
'This approach lacks efficiency.'
The creature's clawed assaults were simply superior in nearly every aspect, each swing faster, stronger, and more resilient than anything they could muster even when their attacks converged at the same moment. And the more time passed over countless exchanges, the more its agility seemed to have been gradually increasing.
Perhaps it had begun to grow accustomed to their coordinated assaults over time while carefully observing the subtle patterns hidden within the humans' movements. Through that silent observation it seemed to be developing a form of battle intellect, a growing understanding that allowed it to react more efficiently than before while adapting its responses to every change in their tactics.
Even so, the group managed to compensate for that shortcoming through the brief yet effective coordination they had forged amidst this short battle. They rotated their roles from time to time whenever one of them was forced backward by the creature's overwhelming strength, allowing another to step forward and maintain the pressure without allowing the beast even a moment of reprieve.
Considering the fact that they had never fought alongside one another in prolonged battles and had barely understood each other's fighting styles beforehand, their movements should have been somewhat clumsy or even obstructive toward one another, but that was not the case at all. If anything, the coordination they had formed within those fleeting moments of combat felt strangely ancient, almost profane in its precision and swiftness... as though they had fought alongside one another in this exact manner for many years.
...In any case, Valric had been the one who engaged the creature less frequently than the others in direct exchanges at the forefront. The reason did not lie in any lack of speed or skill that prevented him from matching their pace. Instead, it was the sheer weight of his greatsword which made it impossible to swing continuously against the creature's relentless assault. Although he had proven himself capable of enduring such pressure for a short while, it had gradually forced him beyond the limits of his endurance. He attempted to conceal that strain, but the subtle sluggishness that began to appear within his swings eventually made it apparent.
Therefore his role had gradually shifted into something different.
Whenever either Seraphina or Mistwalker occupied the creature at the forefront of battle, Valric would circle behind it silently before unleashing a sudden and devastating strike upon its massive legs.
Despite many failed attempts caused by the creature's Camouflage ability, he eventually managed to land several powerful blows against it.
The immense weight of his greatsword combined with the crushing force behind each swing proved difficult even for the creature to withstand. On more than one occasion the strikes forced the massive beast to stagger backward, and during one such opening Valric's blade managed to pierce through the thick fur just below its knee, carving a deep wound into the creature's leg.
By doing so, he had almost lost his life by being crushed beneath its feet, but he managed to leap sideways in time and narrowly dodge it... but before he could even regain his footing properly, he found himself facing a rain of needles descending upon him, an inch away from piercing straight through his body.
Unfortunately, there simply wasn't enough time left for him to dodge. So he let go of his sword and raised both of his gauntleted arms to cover his face, almost like a shield meant to endure the impact head on.
The needles struck him in the next moment.
Some of them shattered after contact while some managed to pierce through the outer layer and lodge themselves into the thick plates of steel, while others deflected away after scraping against the durable surface of his equipment. Fortunately, those that had pierced the armor failed to reach his skin due to the considerable thickness of the protective layers beneath.
However, before he could even draw a breath of relief, those same needles which were either embedded in his armor or scattered around him after striking the ground exploded all at once, producing a violent burst that bent several portions of his armor inward and cracked certain plates apart under the sudden pressure. Even so, he did not have the luxury of pausing to recover his breath or acknowledge the pain coursing throughout his body.
It was because the creature was upon him.
The monstrous figure loomed overhead with terrifying speed, its enormous claw descending straight toward him with the clear intention of finishing the insignificant human who had dared to pierce its skin.
"Bring it!"
As he forced himself upright from the ground, his hand instinctively reached toward the hilt of his greatsword that had fallen nearby during the earlier barrage, his fingers closing tightly around it before pulling the weapon upward with all the strength he could muster. But there wasn't enough time left to swing, nor did he have the room to reposition himself in a better stance. So instead of launching a counterattack, he thrust the blade upward and intercepted the descending claw directly in mid-motion.
The moment the two forces collided, he immediately realized that something about this attack felt strangely different from the previous ones. Due to the lack of any proper momentum behind his hurried movement which could have absorbed a portion of the impact, the creature's entire strength came crashing down upon him at once, concentrating every bit of its power onto that single point of contact.
And the result felt horrifying.
The immense weight of its claw pressed against his blade with such terrifying intensity that it felt as though the bones within his arms and shoulders were about to shatter apart.
"Ah!"
Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip around the hilt and pushed back with every ounce of strength he possessed, but it simply wasn't enough.
The creature's attack carried an overwhelming amount of strength behind it, the kind that no ordinary human should have been able to endure head on.
His body trembled under the weight of it, slowly being forced downward despite his desperate resistance.
Instead of collapsing immediately though, a web of cracks suddenly spread across the uneven stone floor beneath his feet as the ground struggled to endure the pressure created by the clash.
Then, within the next fleeting moment, one of his knees sank into the fractured floor.
Even then, his greatsword still remained raised above him, stubbornly holding the claw at bay and preventing it from slicing straight through his body. But he understood very well that such resistance could not last long. At most, he would only be able to hold it there for a few more seconds.
Sooner or later, his grip would loosen under the crushing force pressing down upon him, or perhaps his arms themselves would break apart beneath the relentless pressure until the claw finally forced its way through the blade and carved him open.
And yet, despite standing on the edge of death at that moment, the only emotion he felt toward the creature looming above him was nothing but fury.
Malicious fury, to be precise.
It did not stem from the pain spreading across his battered body, nor did it arise from the sight of his gravely injured companion lying near the entrance.
It had nothing to do with the fact that he had failed to retreat her to safety in time. Nor did it originate from his inability to defeat the creature or overwhelm it with the strength he currently possessed.
None of those things were new to him.
He had witnessed such things countless times before during the many years he had spent venturing through the depths of the dungeon. He had seen his precious companions beaten down countless times, their bodies sustaining grave injuries during brutal battles, some poisoned to the brink of death while others lost a limb or two along the way.
Such outcomes were not unusual, though.
Anyone who dared to descend into the lower floors despite knowing the dangers that awaited them had already accepted the possibility of those consequences.
He himself had lost some friends along that unforgiving path.
If he had lacked control over his emotions during those years, he would have never reached the place where he stood now. He would have abandoned this path long ago when he first encountered the merciless reality of the fortieth floor.
Sacrifices given in pursuit of a greater good were praised within the countless legends sung by bards and written within the old records of heroes.
If that was truly the case, then did the reason behind those sacrifices really matter? Whether someone gave their life willingly or unwillingly... whether it happened for someone's sake or another's dream... did any of it truly hold meaning?
He had not found the answer to that question yet.
What truly mattered to him had always been the result... the result that followed those sacrifices rather than the reason behind them. The latter could easily become meaningless if the former failed to justify the cost that had been paid.
If someone gave their life in order to protect you and the dreams you both once shared together, but you abandoned those dreams afterward and drowned yourself in grief instead of moving forward...
Would that not insult the sacrifice itself?
Would that not insult the person themselves?
Would that not render all of it meaningless?
That was precisely why he loathed sacrifices.
Not because lives were lost, but only because they placed a burden upon your shoulders so heavy that you could never cast it aside no matter how desperately you wished to. A burden that bound your path to another's existence entirely.
Their dreams became your responsibility.
So why was he feeling such overwhelming fury over something so trivial now?
It was rather simple, actually. He hated it for forcing Valentina to sacrifice her ability to cast spells so that the other adventurers might survive. He had known her for a long while now... long enough to understand the weight of her dreams and the stubborn determination that had always burned within her heart. Even though she had been a mage from the beginning, she had always strived to become the strongest among their group, relentlessly chasing a strength that few believed she could ever reach.
If there was anything she despised more than anything else in her life... it was the feeling of powerlessness.
And yet the creature had forced her into that exact state, a cruel and unwilling descent into the same condition she had spent her entire life fighting against, a state where there was a chance she might never reclaim the strength she had once possessed.
It had made her weak. It had turned her into the very thing she once hated the most. It had forced her to abandon the most precious parts of her life... her passion, her obsession, her love, and the only reason she had continued walking this path in the first place... her magic.
All of the tireless effort she had poured into her craft, all of the years she had spent perfecting her skills only to become a unique water mage... and now that she had, it had all been reduced to nothing.
Whether he liked it or not, her dreams had now become his responsibility.
'What a loathsome sacrifice that was! I couldn't even bring myself to tell her what she had lost today. Some friend I am.'
Looking at the creature, he gritted his teeth until his jaw tightened painfully. His grip around the hilt of the greatsword grew stronger and stronger as the muscles beneath his armor strained against their limits.
Valric snarled, "And it's all your fault."
He should have been crushed beneath the pressure of its claw in an instant. But just before that could happen, he gathered every fragment of strength within his lower legs at once and pushed himself upward as he rose to his feet while his greatsword swung upward violently and threw the massive claw aside with tremendous force.
The impact was strong enough to make the creature stagger back, although it regained its posture almost immediately afterward.
Tilting his head ever so slightly, he spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone floor and said, "You know, I never harbored any wrath toward any kind of creature yet. Perhaps I hated some that took my friend's life away... but I never returned there to seek revenge or anything like that. There was simply no point in doing so, really. Once you killed a creature here it might be reborn countless times over, though it would never truly be the same one again. That is simply how dungeons work, after all."
The creature, however, showed no intention of listening to his words as it brought down its other clawed hand with terrifying force.
But Valric deflected the strike effortlessly.
He let out a quiet sigh, "But you are different. If we kill you... you will never appear again. Being fully aware of that fact, I simply couldn't allow this opportunity to slip away... could I?"
The creature responded with violence.
A relentless rain of clawed attacks descended upon him all at once, forcing him to swing his greatsword again and again as the steel blade clashed against the monstrous limbs in rapid succession.
But the creature's attacks were far too fast.
His blade struggled to keep up with them. Compared to the speed of those strikes, his own movements felt painfully sluggish. Even then he forced himself to continue moving, pushing his body harder with each passing moment as he tried to fill the widening gap between them.
But it was not enough.
It simply was not enough to match that overwhelming pace. Gradually his movements began to slow. At some point even lifting the weight of his own weapon started to feel unbearably heavy.
And that was when he made a mistake.
After deflecting an attack from his right side, his arms failed to lift the sword quickly enough to block the next strike that came from the opposite direction, leaving him with limited options in that moment.
Despite realizing the problem, he still attempted to deflect it in a somewhat reckless manner... but the awkward angle of his body betrayed him, and the moment their weapons collided he found himself thrown into the air like a ragdoll under the overwhelming force of the blow.
Fortunately, he had still managed to block the strike at the last moment, so the claw did not pierce through his body.
Rather than allowing himself to crash helplessly onto the floor, Valric twisted his body while still suspended in the air and drove the tip of his sword toward the ground below.
The blade pierced into the stone.
However, since he had been launched with such force, the momentum dragged him across the surface before he could finally come to a halt while resting on one knee several meters away, leaving behind a long and jagged line carved across the floor.
Gripping the hilt of the sword tightly as he used it to support himself, he breathed heavily while the air scraped against his throat, which now felt painfully dry.
At that moment, a rain of needles shot at him, cutting through the air with terrifying speed as the creature appeared right in front of him, its claw plummeting downward at the same time.
Since the earlier blasts had left several holes in his armor, there was now a great chance that those thin javelin-like needles would easily pierce through the exposed parts of his body. So if he attempted to protect himself from those projectiles and preserve his flowlines at the same time, he would have to risk his own life by taking the creature's claw head-on or vice versa.
His choices had become limited.
But there was nothing left to think about anymore, because the decision had already been made.
He would abandon the flowlines, obviously.
Despite that, a rather strange expression appeared on his handsome face, 'Not that it actually matters... if I have them or not in the grand scheme of things.'
He was just about to raise his sword in preparation for the incoming attack, but at that exact moment sparks of lightning suddenly crackled violently through the air as Seraphina placed herself directly between him and the storm of needles rushing toward them.
In the next moment, her sword flashed through the air in continuous wide arcs, the blade slicing and shattering through the rain of needles with swift precision as streaks of sparks scattered across the hall. It hardly took her any time to destroy them.
Valric watched the motion of her blade for a brief moment.
'She's fast...'
But even with such speed, the Captain still seemed to have missed a single thin needle that slipped through the storm unnoticed, though by pure chance Valric noticed the small projectile rushing toward him and tilted his head to the side at the last moment in order to dodge it. Even so, the needle still managed to graze the side of his face as it passed, leaving behind a thin line of blood in its wake.
A dark expression appeared on his face.
Just then the shattered remains of the needles exploded all around them into a violent whirlwind of sparks, sending fragments of debris flying wildly through the air and scattering across the broken floor of the dungeon hall.
Seraphina glanced over her shoulder in confusion, unable to immediately understand what had just happened, "...?"
Valric inhaled deeply before offering a faint smile, "It's alright, Captain."
Seraphina turned her gaze back toward the creature without another word and deflected the incoming claw with a sharp swing of her sword almost immediately afterward. The impact rang across the hall like clashing steel, but before the creature could follow up with another attack or recover its stance, she dashed forward again and brought her blade down into its thigh in a sweeping arc.
Of course the creature noticed her before the strike could fully pierce through its flesh.
In response, it slammed its other claw downward toward her with brutal force, forcing her to leap back and evade the blow before the ground beneath her shattered apart.
Finally, her task here had been completed.
At the same time, Mistwalker appeared just behind the creature's leg and thrust her elegant katana straight into the same wound Valric had inflicted earlier. The creature had not noticed her approach at first since she had moved without the use of magic and relied entirely on her sheer speed, yet by the time it realized her presence the blade had already cut through layers of muscle and bone before the tip emerged from the other side of its leg.
She twisted the katana within the wound.
The creature released a deafening shriek as agony surged through its body, its claws lashing wildly into the empty air as it attempted to strike anything within its reach.
Even then it still did not attempt to activate its Camouflage.
Instead the creature suddenly bent its legs and leapt upward with such terrifying force that its massive head crashed directly into the ceiling in the next moment, even though the height of that ceiling was nearly three times greater than its own towering body. The violent impact shook the entire dungeon as dust and fragments of stone rained down from above.
Mistwalker had been hanging from its leg during that sudden leap, although amidst that chaotic moment she seemed to have retrieved her katana before letting herself fall back toward the ground. Someone like her would not crash helplessly onto the floor though; instead she landed lightly on her feet not far from the other leaders.
Seraphina soon approached Valric while maintaining her neutral expression, "Do you believe you are capable of continuing?"
Valric lowered his gaze and remained seated where he was for several seconds without giving any immediate answer. If that silence had continued much longer she would have assumed that he was unable to keep fighting, though fortunately the situation did not reach that point.
Valric slapped his own face and rose to his feet with surprising speed, "Do not concern yourself, Captain. It may appear as though my flowlines have been destroyed, but that's not the case at all. I assure you... the damage is closer to a mere scratch from my perspective, therefore there is little chance that I would lose consciousness so easily."
He pulled the greatsword out of the ground.
Was the slap truly necessary, though?
Seraphina quietly studied his face for a brief moment before giving an indifferent nod.
Meanwhile Mistwalker appeared to be looking around the hall in a rather unusual manner.
Noticing the change in her demeanor, Seraphina asked, "Is something troubling you?"
Mistwalker turned her head slightly toward her, or at least it appeared that way, "We must conclude this battle quickly, girl."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow, "Why?"
However, Mistwalker didn't need to explain it to her, Seraphina herself noticed it as well.
The uneven stone floor of the spacious hall had begun to repair itself.
At first, it had been almost vague and unclear, something that could easily be dismissed as a trick of the eye, but soon enough it became apparent that the dust and debris scattered across the broken floor were trembling faintly before being pulled toward the crater, the same one where the teleportation circle had once existed.
It almost looked as if an invisible thread had been tied to every shattered fragment of stone, gently tugging them toward the hollow center with an eerie sense of order.
Actually, under different circumstances, the phenomenon might have easily gone unnoticed and mistaken for the result of the constant tremors created by their battle and the violent shockwaves colliding across the hall, but fortunately they had managed to notice it earlier than they normally would have. Not to mention, the speed of the restoration seemed to be increasing with each passing moment.
Valric's eyes widened, if only slightly, "It's rather unusual, don't you think? The repairing usually occurs a few hours later or so after the destruction. Even if the ecosystem is distorted, that shouldn't justify shortening the time it usually needs to begin repairing to this extent."
But what exactly had forced him to reach that conclusion?
She had found her answer soon enough.
There was a strange sensation she had suddenly begun to feel out of nowhere. At first it had been faint, almost so subtle that it could have been dismissed entirely, but the longer she paid attention to it, the more difficult it became to ignore.
It felt as though something was tied to her, or perhaps something was tying her to it, an invisible pull that she could neither see nor properly understand. But she struggled to find the proper words to describe the nature of it.
'How unusual!'
She had never experienced anything quite like it before.
For a moment, she wondered if it might somehow be connected to the boss itself or perhaps one of its strange abilities, maybe even another skill hidden behind its mysterious nature. But despite her doubts, she knew that possibility was unlikely to be the truth... unless, of course, the assumption she had previously reached regarding its last ability had been wrong from the beginning.
So what exactly was forcing the dungeon to repair itself so early?
The answer was right in front of her.
Seraphina reached toward her forehead, or at least toward the place where it would have been beneath the helm, "I agree. However, I don't believe the unusual restoration we're witnessing should be something to be so surprised about. In fact, we should've expected it much sooner to happen."
Valric lifted his chin slightly, "What made you even think of that, Captain? Do you perhaps know the reason behind it?"
Seraphina pointed her sword toward the centre of the hall and gave an indifferent shrug, "Yes. To be fair, we're the reason behind it. We destroyed the teleportation circle... the only passageway that allowed travel between the floors. Naturally, the dungeon would not tolerate its path remaining blocked for long, so it is restoring it as quickly as it possibly can."
Valric stared at her silently for a moment before nodding his head, "That does make sense... in a way. After all, we've never done something like that before. And I don't recall hearing about anyone who did either."
Beside them, Mistwalker suddenly covered her mouth with her hand.
Was she trying not to laugh? But what exactly was amusing about the situation?
Seraphina chose to ignore her reaction and continued speaking in the same cold voice, "In any case, our circumstances have changed significantly now that the restoration process has accelerated this much. Judging by the speed at which the crater is filling, the circle will be fully restored in about a minute."
Valric tightened his grip around the handle of his greatsword, "Which means we have only two choices left. Since we can't stop the restoration, we have to destroy it again as soon as the circle restores and deal with the incoming horde immediately to buy time. Or else... we must finish this battle within a minute."
Mistwalker let out a quiet sigh as she slowly turned her gaze toward Seraphina, "A minute, huh?"
Seraphina thought for a long moment.
What choice would she even make?
Would they truly be able to defeat it within a single minute?
More importantly...
Could she accomplish such a feat?
By then, the creature had vanished once again and was lurking somewhere within the vast hall.
Perhaps it had realized that the passageway could eventually be restored, or perhaps it had not yet noticed the change at all, but sooner or later it would undoubtedly become aware of it. And when that moment arrived, it would either choose to hide itself completely or attempt to defeat them all before searching for a way to escape from this cursed hall.
'Coward.'
Seraphina walked forward, her sword in her hands but the tip of it was aimed at the floor, her cloak swayed behind her softly.
Valric smiled faintly, and raised his greatsword high enough, but Mistwalker simply leaned against her elegant katana after stepping beside Seraphina.
Seraphina sighed.
A dark expression appeared on her beautiful face.
"Assist me, if you can. I will handle the rest."
There existed only one reliable method to defeat a creature of such caliber, especially when elaborate plans and complicated tactics could no longer be trusted.
One must overwhelm it.
One must crush it beneath pure strength alone.
From this moment onward, that was exactly what she intended to do.
Blue flames danced behind the visor of her helm as she said, addressing the air.
"Are you watching?"
A beautiful dragonfly was staring back at her from some distance away.
"Watch closely, Queen. This is how I intend to defeat you."
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(Chapter Ended)
To be continued...