All of a sudden the crowd came back into focus for the two grizzled MMO veterans, as if they had returned from a world beyond. With their foes defeated, their victory was attained. The crowd had reached a climax of exhilaration. Kevlar and Dusk plopped down on their behinds, completely exhausted from the ordeal. They simply smiled at one another, having achieved their goal. The Hand of Blood had lost this round.
~~~~~
Tsuki was unable to tear her gaze away from this spectacle. Her heart burned in excitement. Suddenly, her attention turned as she noticed Omni once again taking a seat by her side.
“Did you take care of your important matter?” Tsuki inquired.
“Yes.”
“What was so important that you had to leave during the middle of the final match?”
“We’ll speak of this later. Did you see anything interesting while you were watching the match?” Omni asked, wishing to change the subject for now.
“Indeed I did. I now understand who you were talking about. It’s that brown haired Phantom, right? The one who was fighting with Kevlar.”
Omni smiled warmly at her.
“I want you to keep an eye on him. I think there are others after him as well. I sense potential within him. We can’t let the enemy dye him to their color.”
Tsuki’s eyebrows scrunched together in thought. She found this statement intriguing and troublesome at the same time. The enemy? Just who was this enemy?
"You mean the ones responsible for us still being trapped in this world? That’s what you were doing? Did you find anything useful?”
“I did find a lead. But he was vague in his answers. I learned very little from him, though he said we would meet again. I believe we will receive these answers in time.” Omni took a brief reprieve to catch his breath. “Tell me, Karla. What do you sense from that Phantom?”
“I sense rage and hatred. Even beyond that, I felt something else; something stronger. Something I can’t explain. What is that feeling?”
“I do not know either, but it’s worth finding out, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
“However, be vigilant, Karla. Those negative emotions, those unvalues... They spread within him like an outbreak in that final round. I sense that match was more than a simple competition to him. He let himself be consumed by the darkness. It’s possible the enemy wishes to turn him to their side. If that were the case, it would be easy for them to take advantage of his hatred. I want you to watch over him for now and report back to me your findings. If the enemy is upon him, I want you to follow them while keeping your presence hidden. Perhaps they will take us to their headquarters unknowingly. If at any point you feel Dusk is ready to join us and that you are ready to reveal our existence to him, I leave that up to you.”
“I understand.”
~~~~~
Dusk’s quintet basked in the glory of their win, having attained weapons that had no equal—at least at these levels. They could now level up faster than anyone. All of the weapons had a skull design on the handle, drenched in red and silver. An all-encompassing light enveloped them, transporting the battle weary fighters back to their town. Despite their threats, the Hand of Blood was not able to find him or his friends again after the tournament. Kevlar had joined their group in their efforts to level up. It took them two weeks to grind up to level 30 from level 22. Without these new weapons, the climb to level 30 would’ve been even steeper.
There were several arguments between the group, mainly between Dusk/Kevlar, and Xyla/Stacy. Frost got along with everyone. Despite this tense dynamic, the group worked very well together as far as battle was concerned. That is, until that day. The day everything changed...
Chapter 6
October 4, 2018
On this day, a few hours into grinding, Kevlar paused momentarily to compose himself before speaking.
“Hey, guys, we’re level 30 now. Think we can do a dungeon?”
“Absolutely not,” Dusk replied. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Stop being a pussy,” Kevlar goaded Dusk.
“It’s not being a pussy, it’s being smart,” Dusk retorted, his body starting to spark with charged fury already; just another day.
“Being smart is actually doing the dungeon. You know the rate of experience is higher in dungeons, and we’d get better gear. Plus we have these awesome weapons that no one else has to give us an advantage.”
Emphasizing his point, Kevlar held up his great sword, a trophy from the tournament. “What do you guys think?” he asked the rest of the group.
“If it helps us level faster I’m down,” Xyla stated nonchalantly.
“Hell, yeah, I’m up for a bigger challenge. Bring it on!” Frost responded, psyched.
“I’ve been getting bored of killing these easy mobs all day. Let’s do it!” Stacy replied, excited about the possibilities.
Kevlar turned to look at Dusk with that usual look of condescension that he had grown to loathe so much.
“Fine,” Dusk muttered reluctantly, having been outvoted by his friends.
“Then it’s settled,” Kevlar declared triumphantly. “Where should we go, hmm? How about the Eye of Verthrax dungeon? It’s the closest one.”
“Sure, knock yourself out.”
“Relax... you’ll be thanking me when this is over.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
After roughly thirty minutes of travelling, they reached the entrance to the Eye of Verthrax dungeon.
The dungeon, lurking inside an active volcano, roared violently. They could hear the sizzling of lava flowing in the distance, a powerful reminder of nature’s fury. A gigantic door loomed at the base, towering over the adventurers. The colossal gateway contained intricate spiral designs which burned a mix of scorching red and fiery orange. The small squad of ragtag fighters stood before the portal, ready to probe into the bowels of the volcano. To their left side resided a large green glyph, humming its tranquil melody for the adventurers. These emerald runes granted a point of binding to all who touched the inscription. The entire area smelled of scorched earth and thick smoke.
Kevlar pushed open the doors to the entrance. They creaked with the sound of impending doom. Within this blazing labyrinth rested rooms that were painted the color of dying metal. Symbols scattered along the walls, all glowing the same colors of heat as the entrance. Each and every rune was incomprehensible, perhaps some ancient language, some long forgotten tongue. Among their monstrous foes were apparitions of pure flame whose eyes seared crimson. These dancing flames given sentience were accompanied by flying dragons, clad in scarlet scales. These dragons were miniature in stature compared to the dragons of lore, existing at a mere four feet.
The path ahead of them dipped into a pool of lava. Two paths forked in two opposite directions before them, forcing the fighters to make a crucial, possibly fatal choice. Those paths could’ve led them to a black hole for all they knew. The group pushed on through a large number of monsters. Through the razor-edged teeth of the dragons, the white-hot fire of the flame spirits, they pushed on. Undaunted and unafraid, on and on to the very end of the dungeon where their fiercest trial awaited them.
Staring back at them was the long passage to the final boss room. Before them lay a large circular platform. There were no walls at the edges of the platform, essentially making this a cliff, with a lake of lava awaiting them at the very bottom that would burn even the Devil to ash. The rocky volcano walls loomed in the distance, much too far to grab on to. The floor of the platform glowed a mix of orange and red hues, pulsating in its passionate splendor.
The main attraction of the scene was the creature that was perched on its haunches in the very center of the sphere. This foe was much closer to the appearance of a legendary dragon. The terrifying reptilian monstrosity, dubbed Verthrax, stood at least fifteen feet in height; and that was on all fours. Dusk estimated that if this dragon stood up on its hind legs, it would dwarf mountains, its wingspan blocking out the sun. Its
eyes glowed a fertile emerald; a stark contrast to its hostile nature, captured within his massive crimson body. Its teeth were sharp enough to shred steel into pieces. The roar alone threw a gust of wind that caused the group to instinctively shield their eyes from the gale.
This was definitely the most horrifying monster Dusk had ever seen. If he had seen something like this in the real world he would’ve ran away with everything he had. But here in this world, his group had the power to slay the dragon. They could do this. Still, there was some hesitation spiking through his veins. As he looked around at his comrades, he could sense the same thing spread throughout them like a disease, rooting them to the floor.
“Don’t panic,” Kevlar reassured his shaken comrades.
“It may be big and scary looking, but it wouldn’t be in this dungeon at this level if we couldn’t kill it.”
Kevlar smirked confidently, fully ready to take on this challenge. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?”
This little speech seemed to save the group’s morale from plunging into the trenches. Even Dusk nodded, taking comfort in Kevlar’s words.
The group began their cautious march, the inevitable confrontation against their gigantic foe approaching closer, ever closer. The wyrm peered intensely into their existence with those emerald eyes, but the group was unmoved, even as the creature seemed to grow in size exponentially with every step they took.
“So, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Kevlar began explaining. “Frost, you’re gonna keep all threat focused on you. Dusk, Xyla, and I will attack from the sides. Under no circumstances are any of us three to attack from the front or the back, but you Frost will be in front of the dragon at all times. Stacy, you’ll stand to the side but further back. Got that everyone?”
Everyone in the group understood and accepted his strategy. Kevlar turned to Frost, waiting on his initiation.
“Well then, you’re up, Frost.”
Frost smashed his fist into his hand, psyching himself up. He would be the Knight that slays the dragon, just like in the folktales of old. He had dreamed of this since he was a little boy. Right now, in this searing hot dungeon, with the beads of sweat already pouring down beneath his armor, he would finally get that chance. He was trembling vigorously, but it was not in fear, but elation.
“All right, let’s do this!”
The Knight’s armor clanked wildly as he sprinted directly at his archenemy. His eyes were flashing with valor as he kept his shield in front of him like a portable wall. His posture and demeanor were currently mirroring the image of the hero he so wanted to be. Dusk, Xyla, and Kevlar were trailing closely behind him, following his lead. The dragon responded to this impending threat, immediately heating up his breath and releasing it in front of him in a pressurized stream of flame; encompassing everyone but Stacy in its fiery fury. Frost lost about 15% of his health in the blast, but the others took roughly 33% of their health as damage. This dragon was almost as fearsome as he looked. The heat nearly burned into their lungs—sizzling skin entombed the newly charred souls.
One by one, a white light erupted from the ground below the players, mending their wounds, sending steam rising from the burning flesh as new skin grafted over their burns.
“Stop getting hit! I can’t keep healing all of you like that,” Stacy complained loudly.
The group silently complied with her request by running to the sides of the dragon with swift purpose.
The fight was going relatively smoothly, until the dragon did something unexpected. Three baby dragons flew into the arena. They were relatively weak mobs by themselves, but combined with a fully grown dragon, it made things a bit more difficult.
“Dusk, Xyla, get the dragon closest to you,” Kevlar instructed sternly.
“Got it!” Xyla acknowledged, gliding towards a dragon coming from the northwest, engaging it in combat.
“Understood!” Dusk agreed as he dashed towards a dragon coming from the west side.
Kevlar moved to intercept a dragon that was coming from the east.
Stacy now had to worry about the welfare of everyone in the group instead of just focusing on Frost. Still, the baby dragons were not much of a threat. The trio of damage dealers dispatched the scaly adversaries without issue—but just when they began to relax, Verthrax bellowed in a deafening roar, freezing all of the combatants in place as if time itself had just stopped. They were in the grip of fear and confusion. By the time the paralysis had worn off, Frost’s health had dropped below half. Stacy quickly healed him back up as soon as she regained control of her form.
The dragon wasn’t done pulling out new tricks from his hat. He stretched himself to full length as he flapped his wings in one mighty swipe, creating a great wall of wind. The force of the gust blew everyone in front of him back in a mighty blast. Stacy, farther back than the others, was sent towards the raging abyss as her feet touched the very edge of the platform. This stone platform was their raft, the only thing keeping them afloat in this sea of lava. This feral reptile had come within a hair’s breadth of sending her overboard. She was currently walking a tightrope between life and the possibility of an infernal death. After a long struggle to keep her balance, Stacy’s body chose the latter, sending her plummeting into the depths of the boiling lake. At least it would have, if she hadn’t willed her hands to latch onto the edge for dear life; the only thing separating her from the living world and the world of hellish oblivion that waited below.
“Hold on Stacy!” Dusk shouted as he shot his body in Stacy’s direction like a rocket.
I won’t let her die. Not now, not after all this. Hang on, Stacy, hang on!
Stacy felt her grip slipping as the fright continued to exert its influence upon her. Her arms burned with a soreness that rivaled the flames of this imposing creature. But she would hang on. She would not die so easily. No matter what it took, no matter what she had to overcome, she would live—but her body disagreed. Her left hand slipped from the edge, with now only her right hand digging into the rusty stone. Is this it for me? Am I going to get burned alive in the lava? Though her resolve burned brighter than ever, her strength was slipping. Slipping into the fiery abyss where her body would soon resign itself to its end. She couldn’t move—couldn’t hoist her body up— she could only pant violently as the prospect of her painful death became more and more of a reality. Fear began to chip away her resolve.
No, I can’t die! Please, I don’t wanna die. Somebody save me.
As if her silent request was heard, two hands clutched her left arm tightly just before she was about to slip into the heated pit. As she looked up she could see her closest friend; his face contorting in pain as he struggled with her weight. A few seconds later, with the help of Xyla, Dusk pulled Stacy up. All three were panting with a combination of exhaustion mingled with terror. As they looked on they could see Frost and Kevlar pushing themselves to their limits, taking on Verthrax by themselves. Frost’s health was nearly depleted. He gnashed his teeth in pain as he tried to keep his last barriers of courage from eroding away. The dragon lifted up his front leg for a swipe—a giant claw curving straight into Frost’s face. He raised his shield from his instinct’s drive, blocking the brunt of the blow as he staggered backwards.
Stacy, having no time to sit and collect her thoughts from the countless pieces they had just been broken into, got up immediately. Now wasn’t the time for thought. Now was the time for action. She knew what she had to do. Frost’s body was enveloped by several dazzling lights bursting from below him as his former life returned to him. Stacy had healed him just in time.
Dusk and Xyla rushed back to the sides of the dragon, providing some long awaited help to Frost and Kevlar. Stacy followed close behind them, not wanting to get pushed to the edge of the arena again.
The group was beginning to feel a rhythm while fighting, as if they were learning a new dance. Verthrax would periodically alternate between spawning three dragons at a time and roaring, paralyzing the group.
He would occasionally get up on his hind legs and flap his wings, which was what nearly killed Stacy.
When Verthrax was almost dead, nine dragons spawned. Dusk swallowed his trepidation as his eyes snapped open at the impossibly grim sight.
Nine adds? How are we going to deal with that?
“Frost!” Kevlar called out with urgency. “Taunt all of those dragons, use your defensives.”
Copious amounts of sweat were prevalent on Frost’s sturdy body. He probably had to do the most work in this fight. Even the fearless hero had a tinge of terror trickle into his veins. Who wouldn’t when faced with such overwhelming odds? Nevertheless, he obeyed Kevlar’s demand, grabbing the enmity of every single dragon in the arena.
“But we can’t get in front of Verthrax and all the adds are in front of him,” Dusk yelled at Kevlar. “How are we going to do this?”
“We’ll just have to be on our toes and dodge any frontal moves as soon as we see them coming. Assist me; we need to kill each dragon as fast as possible before his defensives wear off.”
The group was in a frenzy trying to kill off each baby dragon, to ease the burden that Frost was carrying. Their courageous tank was taking hits all over his body, as if he were being assaulted by a swarm of killer bees, except these bees could tear through his body with their fangs. All of the Knight’s focus tunneled into blocking any of Verthrax’s attacks with his shield, but with nine other monsters attacking him, he found this to be exceedingly difficult.
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