“Fuck it… They set us up.”

  A deep, authoritative voice echoed through the dark tunnel. The speaker was a tall, wiry man, his face obscured by a black mask painted with a sinister, grinning mouth full of jagged teeth. A small Roman numeral XI was carved onto his forehead. He gripped a long sword with a serpent-shaped engraving coiling around its hilt.

  “Thirteen, check for severe injuries,” he ordered.

  After a brief pause, another voice—calm but razor-sharp—responded. “Twenty-One took a serious hit, but I’ve healed him. He should be stable. Forty’s unconscious, but his injuries aren’t fatal.”

  The speaker, just like his leader, wore an identical mask, save for the number XIII etched into it.

  “Tch. Useless weaklings,” a third voice sneered. A small, wiry figure with the number XXV on his mask spun a short sword between his fingers. His mask was tilted upward, revealing a sliver of his face—just enough to see his tongue flick out, licking a fresh wound on his hand like some kind of deranged animal.

  “I say we leave them. I can feel someone up ahead. Let me deal with them,” he continued, his tone brimming with bloodlust. “This should be over quick.”

  Before he could move, a massive hand gripped his head, forcing him to a halt.

  “Shut your damn mouth and follow orders,” rumbled a towering brute—easily over two meters tall. His body was covered in dust, his massive shield resting heavily against his shoulder. Despite the soot and grime from the explosions, not a single wound marred his skin.

  He took the brunt of that blast head-on.

  The number XVIII was carved into his mask. He was undoubtedly the front-line tank, and judging by his state, he had successfully shielded his squad from most of the damage.

  Eleven’s voice cut through the tension. “We proceed with caution. This wasn’t the work of amateurs. Don’t get reckless, especially you, Twenty-Five.”

  “…Understood, Captain,” Twenty-Five grumbled.

  Their squad moved forward cautiously through the dark tunnel. The giant took point, shield raised, ready for any incoming attacks. The others followed closely behind, their eyes darting through the shadows, wary of more traps.

  Then, in a low, gleeful whisper—

  “Hehehe… An elf woman. I can’t wait to taste her blood.”

  Twenty-Five’s mask was still half-lifted as he licked his lips in a grotesque display.

  In a blink, he lunged, driving his short sword straight through his target’s chest—

  Only for his triumphant grin to be wiped away.

  "What the—?!"

  Instead of flesh, his blade met empty air, the figure dissolving into a sticky, silken web that instantly coiled around his whole body.

  “You idiot! I told you to be careful!” Eleven snarled. "Thirteen, get him out of there."

  The priest stepped forward, muttering a quick incantation. The webbing melted away in an instant.

  Eleven clicked his tongue in irritation. “Tsk. Silkshade Phantom.” He narrowed his eyes. “Looks like we’re dealing with a troublesome opponent this time.”

  “They’re just stalling,” grunted another voice—this one belonging to a stocky elf. “Cheap tricks won’t save them. They’ve got nowhere to run.”

  Before Eleven could respond—

  A sudden roar of wind.

  Then—an ear-splitting explosion.

  A torrential blast of water flooded the tunnel, merging with the raging winds. Within moments, a swirling vortex formed, pulling them all toward the center.

  “Bastards!” the elf roared in fury, struggling against the current.

  The barbarian barely flinched. Even as the storm raged around him, he held his ground, his stance firm as a boulder. His shield was still raised, and Eleven stood close behind him, unfazed.

  Then—

  BAM!

  The entire tunnel shook violently.

  Massive boulders rained down from above.

  CRASH. BRRRAK. THUD.

  “AAAAAGH! My arm!” Twenty-Five’s shriek echoed through the chaos.

  His wild eyes darted to his fallen comrade—the elf, crushed beneath a massive rock. The floodwater had trapped his legs, leaving him defenseless as the ceiling collapsed on him.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  His corpse lay mangled and unrecognizable.

  But one figure stood untouched.

  The priest.

  A translucent barrier shimmered faintly around his body, not a single speck of dust or debris touching him.

  His calm, analytical eyes flicked over the devastation, completely unshaken.

  Twenty-Five, however, was anything but composed.

  “YOU BASTARDS! I’LL RIP YOU TO PIECES!”

  But his rage was drowned out by another voice.

  A deep, guttural roar.

  The barbarian moved.

  With sheer brute force, he shoved aside the rubble that had fallen onto him, his eyes burning with fury, can be seen through the mask. Dust and debris scattered as he slammed his shield against the remaining rocks, carving a path forward.

  Eleven wasted no time. With a single swing of his longsword, the remaining boulders split clean in two. Any further collapse was swiftly dealt with as he sliced through the falling debris with precision.

  By the time they broke free from the wreckage—

  The tunnel ahead had already collapsed.

  And in the distance—

  A small figure darted away into the shadows of a newly carved passage.

  A druid.

  Just before the final explosion sealed the exit shut.

  ***

  We ran as fast as we could, following Darwyn’s lead.

  Luckily, we had gained some distance, buying us precious time to escape.

  Two hours. Two long hours of relentless sprinting, our lungs burning, legs trembling with exhaustion.

  We didn’t know if they were still pursuing us, but taking chances wasn’t an option. It was better to be overly cautious than to regret it later.

  Muradin’s breath came in ragged gasps, sweat pouring down his face and soaking into his beard. I wasn’t doing much better—my chest heaved, my breathing uneven, and my legs felt like they would buckle at any moment. I glanced at Orin. She looked just as drained as I felt.

  Only the sibling duo, Darwyn and Elena, remained composed, their pace steady as if they weren’t feeling the same crushing fatigue.

  We ignored every monster we passed, unwilling to slow down. As a result, we bore fresh wounds across our bodies—Muradin, who had led the charge at the front, was the most battered of us all.

  “Just a little longer—hold on,” Darwyn urged, his voice firm yet reassuring. He had taken Muradin’s arm over his shoulder, half-carrying him forward.

  Muradin groaned, his steps dragging. “How much longer? I can’t keep this up.”

  “Forty-five more minutes,” Elena answered. “Once we reach Gloomspire Hollow, we can rest. Just hang in there.”

  A soft green glow surrounded the dwarf as I cast Rejuvenation on him, easing his pain and restoring some of his strength. Then, with a flick of my fingers, I cast Galestride, enhancing his speed.

  Muradin let out a rough chuckle between breaths. “Ah, Erynd, you’re truly a lifesaver.”

  I smirked. “You can thank me once we’re safe.”

  “And thank you for getting us out of there,” I added.

  “Come on, Mister Bromir, you can do it!” Orin cheered, her usual enthusiasm breaking through the tension.

  We pressed on, unwilling to slow our pace.

  Thirty minutes passed when Elena suddenly tensed. “Bad news,” she said grimly. “I can sense pursuers. There are several of them. We need to move faster.”

  Our formation shifted immediately. Muradin took the rear while I stayed close to support him. We pushed ourselves harder. Ten more minutes.

  Then, they appeared.

  Dark figures emerging from the tunnel behind us.

  “Go! I’ll hold them off,” Muradin said, skidding to a halt.

  “Don’t be stupid—we fight together!” Darwyn shot back.

  The dwarf turned to him with a hardened gaze. “Listen, elf, don’t be as stubborn as I am. You know we can’t win this fight. It’s my job as the tank to keep you all alive. So get moving.”

  I stepped forward before Darwyn could argue further. “No. No need to argue—because we do have a chance.”

  Holding up a small but powerful item in my palm, I met Muradin’s eyes.

  Darwyn caught on instantly. Without hesitation, he fired a series of sticky bombs at the tunnel ceiling and detonated them. A cascade of heavy rocks collapsed between us and the enemies.

  But they were prepared.

  In a flash, the rubble was blasted away.

  [Overcharged Brew used. Next spell special effect will be activated]

  [Wind Cutter cast]

  I used Overcharged Brew instantly and channeled the energy through my scepter, launching Tornado Slash to buy us precious seconds.

  Orin reached into her pouch—borrowed from me—and swiftly pulled out Electroflask to execute our combo, Thunderstorm Vortex.

  "That should slow them down," she muttered under her breath.

  Then—

  “Erynd, LOOK OUT!” Muradin’s roar cut through the chaos.

  A massive sword of pure white light materialized above me.

  I barely had time to register it before it came crashing down.

  A blinding explosion. A deafening impact. Dust and debris filled the air.

  Orin and Elena screamed. Darwyn rushed toward me, panic flashing in his eyes.

  As the dust settled, my vision cleared—

  Muradin lay sprawled over me, shielding me with his body.

  His shield was shattered. Blood seeped from his wounds. But he had taken the full brunt of the attack for me.

  “Darwyn, Orin—please help carry him!” I asked.

  They didn’t hesitate. Together, they lifted Muradin, struggling under his weight but moving fast.

  Meanwhile, my Tornado Slash continued to swirl, disrupting our enemies just long enough for us to escape.

  Elena led the way, Darwyn and Orin carrying Muradin, while I stayed at the rear, keeping an eye on our pursuers.

  Then, finally—

  “We made it!” Elena shouted.

  Gloomspire Hollow.

  The foul stench that usually made me gag now felt like the sweetest relief.

  At the entrance, five tunnel paths branched out before us. I immediately spotted the leftmost path—the one Darwyn had marked earlier.

  “Elena, mark another path,” I instructed.

  She nodded and quickly mimicked the mark on the second path from the right.

  “Eryndor, Mister Gwydion—where do we go?” Orin asked, panting.

  I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and pointed toward one of the tunnels.

  “Here,” I said with certainty.

  And without hesitation, we continued.

  definitely don’t want to miss.