We spent another thirty minutes enduring the relentless fury of the Gravelurker. One by one, we fell to its devastating attacks. Darwyn lay motionless, his arms twisted at unnatural angles—both clearly broken. Muradin coughed up fresh blood, his wounds far worse than he let on. Orin was unconscious, and I could barely summon the strength to stay on my feet.

  Only Elena remained standing.

  Her eyes were locked onto the beast, burning with determination. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, her breath steady despite the chaos–contrary to her deteriorated health. Arrow after arrow shot from her bow, each one striking true—her target: the last functional eye of the Gravelurker. With incredible agility, she dodged the monster’s desperate, erratic swipes, narrowly avoiding each one. It was an unexpected, awe-inspiring sight. No one would believe this young elf was entering the Tower for the first time.

  My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold stone floor just as Gravelurker let out an ear-splitting roar. The cavern trembled with its cry of agony. The glow in its final eye flickered and dimmed. Its long legs quivered, losing strength, and its massive body slumped. It twitched once… twice… then went still.

  A blinding light engulfed it, signaling its demise.

  From beside me, I heard Muradin’s hoarse laughter, which quickly turned into a painful cough. Elena wasted no time rushing to her brother’s side, carefully setting his fractured arms in place as he let out a strangled yell of pain.

  With the last of my energy, I lifted my head, my thoughts racing. What had we gained from this brutal battle?

  There were three potential drops we had our eyes on—something that suited Elena’s prepared build, a Soul Fragment for Orin, or an artifact for myself.

  A minute passed. The dust settled.

  I looked at my team. They looked back, each face mirroring the same shock I felt.

  This… was beyond what we had expected.

  Secret bosses, especially ones as powerful as this, usually had a higher chance of dropping something valuable. But only one rare item was supposed to appear.

  I blinked, unable to believe it. Then, as if to confirm my suspicions, my gaze instinctively shifted to Orin.

  Unbelievable. Even unconscious, her uncanny luck had not abandoned her.

  Elena approached, carefully picking up the two shimmering items from the ground. She held them up for us to see.

  A Soul Fragment… and the Webweaver Longbow.

  ***

  “Hey, Erynd, I swear, my luck’s been through the roof ever since I met you. This haul alone is worth more than my entire earnings from a year of adventuring!” Muradin chuckled, shaking a pouch heavy with loot. “Though, to be fair, I do have to nearly die every time—hahaha!”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Darwyn added with a grin. “Shame we couldn’t use Mana Surge on that Gravelurker. Otherwise, I’d be enjoying my early retirement by now.”

  “Serves you right for being greedy. That’s why both your arms are broken,” Muradin teased, laughing as he nudged Darwyn’s shoulder.

  Orin sighed, looking down at her hands. “I’m sorry… If my pouch hadn’t been damaged, I would’ve had the Mana Surge ready. This is my fault.” Her voice was quiet, tinged with guilt. She had contributed the least in the battle, yet somehow ended up with the best loot.

  “Oh, cut that out, you idiot. We’re just messing with you,” Muradin scoffed. Then he turned to Darwyn. “Oi, dumb elf, apologize properly.”

  Darwyn let out a sheepish sigh. “Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Honestly, if not for you, we wouldn’t have even had a shot at taking down that oversized bug in the first place.”

  Elena, sensing the tension, quickly jumped in. “By the way, what do you call that wind and lightning combo of yours? Thunder Cyclone? That was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Thunderstorm Vortex,” I answered, helping steer the conversation away from Orin’s guilt. “Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be that powerful. Good thing we weren’t caught in the blast.”

  “Hah! That overgrown spider was twitching like it got struck by real thunder!” Muradin barked out a laugh, clapping Orin on the back.

  “Hey, Mister Bromir, quit moving around so much! Let your wounds heal properly, or my potions will go to waste,” Orin scolded, but her tone had lightened, her usual cheerfulness creeping back in.

  With that, the tension finally broke. We sat together, talking and joking as we recovered from our grueling battle.

  I found myself reflecting on the fight. We were lucky. Ridiculously lucky.

  But calling it mere luck would be an insult to the effort each of us put in. Muradin had thrown himself into harm’s way to take Gravelurker’s attacks head-on. Darwyn had relentlessly bombarded it with sticky bombs. Orin’s Blightroot Draught had played a crucial role in countering the monstrous regeneration. And then there was Elena…

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  She had fought alone in those final moments. Almost an entire hour trapped in the Eternal Grave World, her life force steadily drained by the accursed Drainweaver Web. The fact that she was still standing at all was nothing short of a miracle.

  I looked around at my party. With this team… we could do it. We could make it to the upper floor.

  “Oi, Eryndor, stop spacing out,” Orin called, waving a hand in front of my face. “You should at least tell us what you plan to do with all those Mana Stones once we get back to town.”

  “Hmm… I’m still saving up for my next spell. But I doubt this is enough yet,” I admitted.

  Darwyn groaned. “Ugh, boring.”

  ***

  We decided to rest for a full day before continuing our journey. After all, we had barely survived the last battle, and pushing forward without recovering would’ve been reckless.

  The next morning, we spent our time gathering the remaining materials needed for our quests while making our way back to the main path toward the portal. It was tedious work, but necessary. Thankfully, Darwyn had marked the route earlier. Without those markers, we would’ve wasted hours wandering in circles through Gloomspire Hollow—maybe even until the Tower itself closed.

  Swoosh—!

  Elena loosed an arrow, her shot swift and precise. The Burrowbane didn’t even get the chance to retreat underground before the Webweaver Longbow’s enchanted string hummed, sending another arrow straight through its carapace.

  I watched as the creature twitched once before going still.

  That bow was proving to be a game-changer. Its active skill would be invaluable once we reached the second floor. I made a mental note to strategize around it.

  “Tsk, showoff,” Darwyn muttered. “At this rate, we won’t even get to fight.”

  Elena smirked, lowering her bow. “Guess it’s time for your little sister to have your back for once.”

  “Don’t get too cocky. You’ve been hanging out with Muradin too much,” Darwyn replied.

  Muradin chuckled deeply. “She’s just telling the truth. Looks like your little sister’s stronger than you now.”

  "Orin, help me out here," Darwyn groaned.

  "Mister Gwydion, I hate to say it, but I’m with Mister Bromir on this one," Orin replied, clearly amused.

  "Erynd..."

  I pretended I didn’t hear it.

  We pressed on through the endless tunnels, cutting down any monsters foolish enough to cross our path. With all our quests finally completed, there was nothing left to do but head back to the main road. After nearly three weeks in these cramped, dark, and foul-smelling tunnels, the thought of fresh air felt like a distant dream.

  "Eryndor," Orin called out, breaking the silence. "How strong do you think I've become after absorbing the Gravelurker Soul Fragment?"

  "Not as strong as me, that's for sure," Darwyn quipped without missing a beat, his grin barely visible in the dim light.

  "Sssh, I was asking Eryndor." Orin shot him a glare, her big eyes rolling in exaggerated annoyance.

  Muradin's hearty laugh echoed from the back of the group.

  "Mind explaining those Soul Fragments again? I kinda... forgot." Orin glanced at me expectantly, so I obliged.

  I chuckled. "The stat boost isn't anything special for you — a little bit of Stamina and Agility — but the real value is in the skills it grants. The passive, Arcane Reserves, increases your mana pool and recovery rate. Combine that with Arcane Strike, and you'll be able to convert mana directly into damage. It’s perfect for the build we planned—less reliance on consumables, more synergy with your skills."

  Of course, there are more advanced mechanisms, but it's better if I explain it later, once she’s got that item—perhaps in the next few months.

  Orin's eyes lit up, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. I could already picture her once the build reached its full potential. If everything went as planned, she'd be the backbone of our party before long.

  "Erynd, don't forget about me!" Elena piped up, her voice carrying a playful edge.

  "I haven't. For now, focus on getting used to your new weapon. Next cycle, we'll head to Frostfang Tundra—there’s a Soul Fragment there with your name on it."

  Darwyn stretched, his bow slung casually across his back. "Maybe I should start tagging along to the library with you. You know... broaden my horizons."

  Muradin snorted. "And leave me drinking alone? Where's the fun in that?"

  Laughter filled the tunnel, pushing away the suffocating silence that had lingered for days. Even in the depths of the earth, some things could always brighten the journey — like a little banter among comrades.

  ***

  After a long and winding journey, we finally made it back to the main road. The familiar path should have been a relief—but something was wrong.

  “I can smell blood… thick,” Darwyn muttered, his fingers tightening around his bowstring. His usual confidence was nowhere to be seen.

  “I-I smell it too,” Elena whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

  But no matter how hard we looked, we couldn’t find the source. The only evidence of battle was dried blood splattered across the cracked stone road and deep gashes in the ground—scars left behind by blades and claws alike. But that alone shouldn’t have created such a strong scent. Then again, this was the Tower. Life-and-death struggles were routine here. Fighting monsters was inevitable. Even battles between adventurers weren’t unheard of—though if caught, the punishment was severe.

  Since nothing seemed immediately threatening, we pressed on, making our way toward the chamber where the portal guardian resided. We remained on high alert, but we didn’t slow our pace—only to discover that someone had already defeated it. Not surprising, considering the Tower expedition would end in just three days.

  But something was off.

  The entrance to the portal was completely blocked—massive chunks of stone sealed the way, as if the ceiling had caved in. And layered over it was an additional layer of protective magic, a shimmering barrier that pulsed with power.

  Someone had deliberately sealed the way. A trap.

  A wave of unease washed over me.

  Darwyn and Muradin, both seasoned adventurers, seemed to come to the same conclusion.

  "We need to get out of here. Now," Muradin muttered, his fingers absently stroking his thick beard—a clear sign that he was on edge.

  "Agreed. I have a bad feeling about this," Darwyn added, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced by sharp vigilance.

  Orin and Elena exchanged confused glances, clearly not understanding the full gravity of the situation.

  someone out there can make sense of this situation!