The path toward the infamous Floor 59 was anything but easy.
The moment the expedition crossed into Floor 51, the Dungeon unleashed hell.
A massive horde of Black Rhinos barreled toward them—twenty walking fortresses of midnight hide and razor-sharp horns, each one capable of crushing an unprepared adventurer in a single charge. Taking down even one required serious effort; facing twenty at once should have been a death sentence.
But Damien and his shadows met the initial onslaught head-on.
The dark army surged forward in a seamless wall—Igris at the forefront, Baal looming like a living siege weapon, the rest filling the gaps with relentless durability. Shadows could regenerate from wounds that would kill any mortal; they were stronger and tougher than most of the expedition members. Damien positioned them deliberately on the front lines, absorbing the brunt of the charge so the living adventurers could fight without being immediately overrun.
That didn't mean the danger ended there.
Monsters never attacked from only one direction.
Deformis Spiders dropped from the ceiling in horrifying waves, forcing the mages to stay constantly alert ice spears, fireballs, and lightning bolts lancing upward to swat them down before they could reach the porters or the wounded. Virga those vile green caterpillar things scuttled along the walls and spat streams of dissolving acid that ate through armor and shields alike. Several adventurers hissed in pain as their equipment hissed and melted; supplies were already burning faster than anyone wanted.
...
Finn moved through the formation to the supply line, voice calm but firm.
"How are we on supplies?"
The porter leader wiped sweat from his brow. "Hitting the final third"."
"Hmm. Not bad." Finn gave a short nod. "Keep protecting them. Our lives depend on those packs."
He turned and walked back toward the front. When he reached the cliff edge where the expedition had paused, he found Damien already there—standing motionless, staring down into the basin below.
"Looks like you want to deal with it?" Finn asked, stepping up beside him.
Both of them gazed down at the monster waiting in the wide crater.
Cadmus.
A dragon in every brutal sense scales black as forged iron, wings folded tight against a body rippling with raw power, tail ending in a barbed club that could shatter boulders. Floor 51's apex predator. Stronger than Udaeus in raw physical might, second only to a Monster Rex.
Damien's voice was low, almost thoughtful.
"Yes… I might want to capture it for myself. As a shadow."
Finn's lips curved faintly. "I see. Well… I won't complain if you go fight it." He shifted his grip on his spear. "In fact—I want to join you."
A booming laugh rolled up from behind.
"Hahaha! Having fun on your own, eh? Don't leave me out of it!"
Gareth lumbered forward, axe slung casually over one shoulder, cheeks flushed from exertion and ale alike. His eyes sparkled with drunken excitement.
Damien turned, one brow raised. "Oh? You want in, drunkard?"
"Of course!" Gareth grinned wide. "I'm excited to take down a foul beast like that! Especially with you helping!"
Damien looked between the two captains—Finn calm and calculating, Gareth wild and eager—then back down at the dragon coiled below.
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.
"Well then?" he said softly. "Shall we?"
...
The trio descended the cliff in a controlled leap, boots striking stone with practiced ease. Cadmus sensed them immediately, its massive head snapped up, eyes blazing like twin furnaces, a low, earth-shaking growl rumbling from its throat. Wings half-unfurled, tail lashing, the dragon rose to its full, terrifying height, scales glinting like blackened steel under the cavern's dim light.
Finn landed first, spear already spinning lazily in one hand. "Shall we play a little?"
Gareth hit the ground with a thunderous laugh, axe twirling once before settling on his shoulder. "Aye! Let's see if this oversized lizard can keep up!"
Damien touched down between them, daggers materializing in his grip, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "After you, gentlemen."
Cadmus roared and lunged.
The fight was never close.
Finn moved like liquid shadow. He darted under the dragon's sweeping claw, spear flashing upward to carve a shallow line along the inside of its foreleg. The beast snarled and stomped, trying to crush him, but Finn was already gone, rolling to the side, coming up behind a hind leg, and driving his spear into the softer flesh behind the knee. Cadmus staggered, roaring in fury.
Gareth charged straight in, fearless and grinning. He caught the dragon's descending tail on his axe haft, the impact ringing like a gong. Muscles bulging, he twisted and heaved, forcing the tail aside long enough to bury his axe into the thick scales of Cadmus's flank. Sparks flew; black blood sprayed. "Ha! Thick hide, eh? Let's open you up!"
Damien circled to the opposite side, moving with predatory grace. When Cadmus snapped its jaws toward Gareth, Damien vaulted onto the dragon's extended neck, boots finding purchase on scales. He drove both daggers down in a vicious double strike, carving deep gashes along the side of its throat. Cadmus thrashed wildly, trying to shake him off, but Damien rode the motion like a wave—leaping clear as the dragon reared back, then landing on its back and slashing downward again, opening a long, weeping wound along the spine.
The dragon was strong. Immensely so. But the three of them were stronger and they were having fun.
Finn danced around the front legs, spear thrusting in precise, surgical strikes—hamstringing, bleeding, weakening. Every time Cadmus tried to focus on him, Gareth or Damien would punish it from another angle. Gareth's axe hacked away chunks of scale and flesh with gleeful abandon, each blow landing heavier than the last. Damien darted in and out like a shadow given form—slashing tendons, carving arteries, always moving too fast for the dragon to pin down.
Cadmus roared again, flames licking from its maw as it prepared a breath attack.
Finn's spear whipped up, striking the underside of its jaw and forcing the head skyward. The gout of fire scorched the ceiling instead of them. "Nice try."
Gareth seized the opening, leaping onto the dragon's lowered head and driving his axe deep between the plates at the base of its skull. Cadmus screamed, thrashing in agony. Damien appeared on its back again, daggers plunging into the open wound Finn had started earlier—twisting, carving, widening the gash until black blood poured like oil.
The dragon staggered, wings beating uselessly. It tried one final desperate lunge at Gareth.
Finn was there in an instant spear driving upward through the soft palate of its open maw, piercing straight into the brain. Cadmus froze, eyes wide, then collapsed with a ground-shaking crash, lifeless.
Silence fell over the basin, broken only by the drip of blood and the heavy breathing of three very satisfied warriors.
Damien stood over the massive corpse, wiping his daggers clean on a rag. He grinned. "That wasn't too hard, eh?"
Gareth laughed, slinging his axe over his shoulder. "Especially with you there, kid. I'm not sure how you did it… but you fight on par with a Level 6 or 7 on your own. I thought you always needed those shadows with you. Turns out even you....their master...are a real monster."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Damien said, still smiling.
"You should," Finn replied quietly. He looked up at the shadows in the distance, guiding the rest of the expedition safely along the upper path. "You're an incredible fighter, Damien. And an incredible person." He paused, gaze returning to the dragon's corpse. "And an incredible leader. Perhaps the next expedition… you'll be the commander."
Damien shook his head, genuine. "I wouldn't want that role as long as you're with us, Finn. I take pride in my combat skill, but I know what I lack. Your tactical mind, your creativity...that's not something I've mastered yet."
Finn smiled, small, but warm. "He's also humble."
Gareth barked a laugh. "The gods sent us a special one!"
Damien ignored the praise and stepped forward to face the fallen dragon. Shadows rose from the ground at his command, coiling around the corpse like living smoke. They poured into every wound, every scale, until the entire body was consumed in darkness.
"Arise."
The shadows receded.
A new form rose from the mist Cadmus reborn, scales now midnight black, eyes glowing with crimson loyalty. It lowered its massive head to its new master in silent submission.
[Knight Grade Shadow Acquired]
Damien reached up, petting the dragon's snout with a grin. "I'm gonna call you… Vritra. You look dark and demonic, so why not?"
Vritra rumbled happily, tail sweeping back and forth across the stone floor, clearly pleased with the name. Damien scratched behind one massive horn.
"Who's a good boy?"
Gareth grunted, scratching his beard. "Hmm…"
Damien glanced over. "What?"
"It just… doesn't feel right. You butchered this dragon, and now you're petting it like a damn puppy…"
Damien shrugged, still scratching. "You'll get used to it."