CHAPTER 19
The air outside the dungeon suddenly turned heavy. A massive pulse of mana rippled through the surroundings, surging from within the gate. The soldiers stationed in front of the entrance staggered back, their weapons trembling in their grip.
Another soldier, eyes wide with panic, looked to the command post. "It spiked to B-rank! There's something inside!"
The alarms blared. In the next minute, messengers were already on their way to inform the higher command. The news reached Marshal Velmion swiftly.
There was nothing he could do but pray.
Beside him, the Grand Duke of Aethenroth stood frozen. His jaw clenched.
'I should have been there,' the Grand Duke thought. 'What use is the title of National Hero if I cannot even protect the next generation? and even my children..'
Lysander glanced at him. "Don't even think about leaving. I still need you here, Grand Duke Zerathiel."
................
The air turned cold.
A thick fog began to bloom, slowly, silently, as if the very dungeon held its breath.
Kieran's wind spiraled in disciplined currents, sharp and fluid. Beside him, Celene shaped her water into a chilling vapor, the two elements merging seamlessly.
Mist coiled around the stone pillars like ghostly serpents. Every breath grew heavier.
And then,
A monstrous figure crashed through the trees, its roar splitting the air like thunder.
Towering and snarling, it surged forward on all fours, eyes glowing a fierce crimson, muscles coiled with raw power.
Its body was cloaked in coarse, matted fur, streaked with jagged mana lines that pulsed with violent energy.
Each step cracked stone and tore through earth.
The Dreadmaw.
The rest took positions, shadows in the fog, guided by the sharp commands of someone who had faced death before.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
The plan began.
Ravelia thrust her hand to the ground, frost lacing outward in a flash. The Dreadmaw's claws struck ice, its weight faltered, sliding just long enough.
Zarethian burst from the mist, flame and metal entwined along his blade. He slashed into the beast's rear leg with burning precision. Sparks and smoke erupted.
The Dreadmaw roared, its mana lines glowing brighter, hotter, wild with fury.
Celene's mist thickened, billowing toward its snarling face. It blinked, sight stolen.
Kieran's arrows whistled through the air, cutting into the spaces between its armored hide.
A massive tail swung, Silas's barrier flared, cracking under the force, but holding.
Karsen held the line, cleaving through rubble and debris, shielding the vulnerable.
Sorayael moved beneath the beast, ducking low, blade flashing, slicing deep into a joint behind its forelimb.
Celene raised a spear of freezing water and hurled it with deadly force.
The mist whirled and the mana clashed.
The Dreadmaw reared, bellowing in rage, but bleeding.
It wasn't over. But in that moment, the seven stood united.
Against fear.
Against the impossible.
Silence hung heavy in the aftermath.
The Dreadmaw's body lay motionless, its ragged breaths fading into stillness. The mist slowly dispersed, revealing bruised faces and scorched ground. For a moment, no one spoke.
No door nor exit appeared.
The dungeon did not dissolve. The boss room remained sealed.
The cohesion shattered. Voices broke into shouting.
All eyes turned to Sorayael.
She stood quietly near the edge of the ruined battlefield, the fog still thinning around her, blood crusted on her arm, her dagger loose at her side.
She remained silent, calculating the situation.
The gears in her mind were turning at full speed, trying to solve the puzzle, trying to weigh the cost of showing the true power dormant inside her, the divine energy passed down from Auctoritas.
She clenched her fist.
'If I use it... they'll know.'
And then, someone spoke.
The voice was deep, amused, laced with cool arrogance.
Everyone turned.
A man in a dark cloak stepped from the mist.
His boots echoed lightly against the stone floor. His face was shadowed, but unmistakable, at least, to Sorayael.
Her eyes narrowed. "You..."
'As I thought, he's really here.'
At first, Sorayael wasn't sure about detecting his presence and soon she was distracted by the beasts in the dungeon, but now she confirmed it.
He stopped a few paces from her and tilted his head, as if amused. "Still bossing everyone around, I see."
He smirked. "Wow. No 'thank you for coming to save your sorry lives'? You're even colder than I remember."
He let out a low chuckle. "Ah, so the blade-tongue is still intact. I was starting to miss that."
'Miss? Isang beses nga lang kami nagkita, daming alam.'
Sorayael crossed her arms. "And here I thought I'd finally gotten rid of the nuisance I met in the hall."
The heirs and heiresses looked utterly lost.
'She knows this shady cat?' Sorayael took a glance at her for a second.
Zarethian's eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you mention him before?"
The cloaked man gave a dramatic sigh. "She's lying. She was clearly obsessed from the start."
Sorayael raised a brow. "Of what? Your reflection on the marble?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're lucky the Dreadmaw is still breathing, or I'd gut you first."
Sorayael rolled her eyes at this man's words.
'As if you didn't point your dagger at my neck'
Ravelia, watching this exchange with wide eyes, leaned toward Celene.
"...Are they flirting or fighting?"
Celene whispered back, "I genuinely can't tell."
The man finally turned to the others.
He looked back at Sorayael, eyes gleaming beneath the shadow of his hood.
She stared at him long hard.
The air pulsed with tension.
Then she smirked faintly, but it was there. "Try to keep up, mystery boy."
His grin widened. "Wouldn't dream of letting you outpace me."
Behind them, the Dreadmaw stirred.
The time for banter was ending.