A bloodied Gabriel struck one spike after the other with the head of his spear.

The Tyrant had changed approach when his Pools started hitting the critical threshold. Instead of trying to uselessly skewer Gabriel with back spikes, he had started using them as additional appendages, controlling them with links of Dark Mana.

Gabriel had managed to destroy four of them, but there were still fourteen more.

The young man knew that not only did he lack a proper spear technique, but the very fact that he could not perpetually feed Mana to his only weapon made him realize how powerful the weapon in his hands really was and how shaping his growth around it would push him toward new heights. Yet right then, he wished for a tool much easier to use.

Striking away the attacking spikes, which could cut, pierce, and slam him with something that was a wobble as a bow, was revealing to be rather challenging.

At this point, Gabriel had used up all of his Energy potions. The last two had been he had downed to recover his Energy completely, and then again to refill his Meridians because it was clear that attacks not enhanced by Meridians were worthless.

If only I found a way to make Meridians last more…

Yet, Gabriel kept striking the spikes away. It was inevitable he got hit. There were too many of them, but at least their power was not frightful like a Tyrant's direct attack. Though when the mayor charged and started mixing his own strikes with the tempest of hits from the spears, it got troublesome.

Twice now, he had to renew Helping Hand, because though it never managed to heal him back entirely, its effect had dissipated. It, too, seemed to have a limit.

There were no more mistakes to be made, it was his last pool of Energy, and he had only seventeen Mana points remaining.

Gabriel couldn't hide that he was growing rather restless because of his rapidly diminishing resources. He had even tried to shorten the fight by enhancing his blows with corruption-tainted Mana, yet as he suspected already, given the Tyrant's Element, it was entirely ineffective, or if there were being any effects, they were so minuscule that he didn't even dare to waste a Mana point to check with Analyze.

Eleven to go, Gabe thought as one more spike shattered thanks to the hard material of which his spear was made.

God bless Olivia! If it wasn't for her and the trip they had taken through that jungle, he would never have found the spear. Then again, if it wasn't for Olivia, he might as well have never gotten into this situation…

Details…

Gabriel pirouetted away. Dancing through the battlefield wasn't exactly his forte, though his body had the resources and ability to move about like a gymnast on cocaine easily. His timing was mostly off, and the use of the spear worsened it even more. He hadn't really trained for that kind of fight, but evading the blows was crucial.

Since the forest training, his ability to manage pain had sky-rocketed, so much so that he thought he had wondered about what the effects of Enhanced Pain Resistance could do to him, would he become insensible to it? And yet, he couldn't help but flinch and groan when the spiked slammed onto him, or even worse, dug into his skin.

"Fuck-" a spike hit him right in the shin. He definitely heard a crack as he fell back, though, in a last-second effort, Gabriel turned in the air, slamming his malleable spear on another spike.

Ten-fuck.

The shin was really broken. Gabe could feel it. Helping Hand was already working to regenerate his health to the full, but it would take him long minutes to regenerate even one point of Life, and it kept climbing down after every scratch.

I'll need to understand why a damn scratch could potentially kill a person only because of the level difference… the dynamics of it are just beyond me.

Anyway, it wasn't only Gabriel's physical resources that were draining, he had been fighting with the mayor for over one hour now, and though the fight de-escalated over time because the mayor couldn't afford to waste become defenseless around him, Gabriel's mental resources had started diminishing.

The constant tugging from his soul, which probably came from Liz, the continuous regeneration of his meat and blood, its scent hanging in the air, and most importantly, the constant knowledge of being standing on razor's edge was shredding at his resources.

Gabriel felt… thin, stretched, as he was about to tear himself down every time the bastard got in another hit.

I've… I've lost count, but he should have used pretty much all his Mana by now. I have no idea about his Energy, though he still got a shit load of health. Maybe if I get rid of the damn spikes, I can give him some thorough beating if I manage to get behind him.

Turning around the monster to hit him from behind, naturally, was the first thing that came to mind. But the problem was the existence of the back-spikes. They could shoot forth at a moment's notice and skewer him.

Eight, he thought as another spike shattered from his spear in a pirouette.

Gabriel gritted his teeth as he landed on his feet and felt the broken shin pulse waves of pain at him.

It's nothing.

Stopping for a second, he took in the Tyrant's pressure. The giant loomed on him, he looked bigger than ever, but in reality, it was just his tired mind, seeing him as a greater threat. Gabriel still had a lot of work before he could start with his strategy. So, snorting some blood away, he tightened the grip on his spear.

I'll see this to the end, whether mine or yours.

***

Dustille hid behind a tree as waves of lethal haze ate through the forest plant life.

She was catching her breath, her senses stretched far, focusing on another incoming assault. That was why she barely noticed the poison starting to eat the tree bark, turning it white as old age.

The Giantess rolled away and started running once again.

She thought back at what had happened as she ran, still trying to get a sense of what was really going on.

Darte had lost it when she got out of hiding, probably scared for the fact that she would be undoubtedly seen, so he showed himself, engaging the runaway couple in the front.

By the time she got back to relay to him what she had seen, she had found them engaged in an intense conversation.

Darte looked pale while the green girl, Olivia, smiled. Even without wind buffeting her hair, they floated about as if she was immersed in water, it was unnatural.

Dustille had thus strengthened her senses to hear, but as she did so, Olivia muted. Her expression changed, and she pointed at Darte, ordered him something, but the young man shook his head. As she insisted, he looked to almost cave in and do it, but in the end, she refused, so the girl decided to do whatever she was ordering him to do by herself. At that point, the Giantess understood that Olivia wanted to hunt her down.

Dustille thought, What is she doing? She knew I was Tier 3, Tier 4 now. What is she pull-

However, the next second, her thoughts were cut out as her senses screamed at her to dodge. The attack she saw passing above her head was a vast blade of water bisecting tree after tree, she barely heard the sound of it, which accounted for its speed, and she hadn't even seen her summon water. She had simply cast it? At that point, she remembered thinking, Great Odin… wasn't Water Soft Magic!?

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Then she let herself be guided by her senses and started running, after that Olivia changed her approach, beginning to chase her with a powerful poison, since then, Dustille couldn't do much else but run away from the girl, her senses could recognize the poison as extremely dangerous.

Back in the present; the Giantess couldn't help but wonder why she was being hunted down, what had she done?

Just why does she want to kill me so badly!?

In the last few weeks, Dustille had been through a rather bad period. She had lost her long-time party leader, Greencliff had been like a brother to her, and even worse, Charlene, her best friend.

She had known Charlene since she was but a child. She had seen her despair for the loss of her voice; she had grown with her; she had shared with her all her fears, all her experiences, and she hadn't even had time to mourn her. She and Greencliff.

What was going on, was this whole situation piloted, as Darte had thought? Was someone responsible for their deaths?

Dustille ran, her eyes glittering for the memories of her ex-party members, but she could not stop running. She knew she couldn't just turn around and hope to win over the monstrous entity that was bathing the whole forest in poison. She had more chances of escaping alive if she left the forest and headed toward the battle against the Tyrant Boss, whose echoes of destruction reached even the edges of the woods.

Voices started reaching her from the plains, mostly panicked voices.

"... draw it … away!"

"You'll… here!"

The voices started getting clearer, the closer she got to the plains. Finally, as she was about to leave the forest, she noticed she had left the poison haze behind. Luckily the girl had stopped chasing her.

It was madness.

The rock floor on which the lake was situated had entirely shattered. The lake bed had reversed itself on the plains, inundating them with water.

On her right, she could see two dead Paragon turtles. Their respectfully blue and deep blue carapaces looked like mounds over planes. On top of one of those mounds, Theor, the Champion's companion, directed the battle flow. The main defender was, instead, the druid's Champion, Lorad. He looked thirty feet tall now, probably in grace of Theor's buff. By the side, the woman, Jiao Liu, kept up a cycle of attacks and retreats with most of the remaining heavyweights.

The one remaining Paragon turtle was charging a beam attack. Dustille arrived just in time to watch the turtle release it, futilely.

As it did, the Tyrant Boss turned toward her, stomping its enormous right foot on the ground.

Right under the turtle, a mountain sprouted forth with the speed of sound. It's pointy extremity shattering under the turtle's belly, but successfully throwing it to the ground, on her back.

The Boss did not let that chance escape. It teleported right on top of the turtle's body before it could roll over and get back in position. Retracting its hand the Tyrant exploded forward, penetrating her belly. The blow's power released a shockwave, which reached up to her position, shuffling Dustille's hair. Once it had created itself a gap in its carapace, the Tyrant opened its mouth, releasing the beam of dark energy, inside of it.

It had been the last of the Paragon turtles.

Once again, the Tyrant teleported back inside the ally composition, ready to pounce on Lorad.

That was when the ground started trembling.

Dustille turned to her right, toward the shattered lake portion of the map. The vibrations came from the shield side of it, by the inner mountain. Then came the lament. The sound felt like a distant moan of mourning, turning toward rage as seconds passed. Everyone was caught up in it. Even the Tyrant Boss looked distracted.

The mountainside opened as a beam of Water spread them forth, like a hand pushing through sand. In a shiny blue light, the Turtle Boss had joined the fray.

***

"RETREAT!" Larry shouted, "RETREAT!"

Hearing his father's order, Sigmund ran farther away, two unconscious bodies of humans on his shoulders. The Giant boy had long since retreated. Its personal weapon supplier had become unable to fight anymore. Her team had been utterly shattered in the last bout, which had followed the triggering of the teleport disabling traps.

He had found a perfect companion in the abilities the girls offered, she could be quite a stuck-up bitch, but for his team, the human girl was perfect.

They had too many losses. More than two hundred dead Kancelodonians were littering the plains. Thirty of them remaining, alive and facing the giants, it had been a one-sided massacre. Giants were not many to start with. Their reproduction rate was lower. Only having a child every thirty or so years. They could not afford all these useless losses, he knew, and if that was not everything… it had been since the arrival of the Boss since he had last seen their Champion.

I hope she just whisked away to Valhalla to heal her wounds. We can't afford another dead Champion; it's too soon.

He recalled his rankings. He had risen to 319th. Sigmund knew that it was most probably tied to the valorous Giants' many deaths more than his personal abilities.

The two exhausted bodies on his shoulders were those of Nastia and her colleague, Fred. It had been surprising learning that Nastia was the famous daughter of the Seer of Carnage. Yeah, he had no idea what the deal with the name was, but the fact that she was that well known only enhanced his respect toward her.

Nastia, on her side, was not that renowned, but he couldn't care less. The girl's abilities were a blessing for his needs. She could materialize solid images, providing him with all the blades he needed, maximizing his assault capabilities. He had never met somebody so good in Mirror Magic, not that he had met many; giants were more direct people, focusing too much on the advantages given by their size and consequently their overall higher Attributes.

In his opinion, her team was rather standard, standard tank in Fred, a standard assaulter in Prisha, though the hunter and the healer were a couple of people with great battle-awareness, they really shone both for their youth and the fact that all of them were Tier 3. She really did not fit in it. It looked like it was made without a real scope or synergy in mind, just a bunch of good, very talented fellows put together.

I wonder how come they didn't notice?

However, Sigmund was wasting his time, he was a straightforward fellow and had already received a negative from the girl, though she had looked rather surprised by his request, and he might be wrong, but happy.

The young Giant hoped he would make her change her mind, but all of this was mindless thinking. He was simply trying to find something to fill his mind with. If they didn't get out of this hell before the two monsters engaged in their mighty battle, they would be wiped out.

If there was only one thing he was content about, it was the fact that he had successfully managed to save Carla. The Giantess had been already taken away and brought by one of the exits. Other than that, he was thankful that his father was alive.

Dustille had disappeared, he had no idea where, while Terry… unluckily had been one of the first to fall under the initial surprise assault. Sigmund's eyes grew red, and his body started automatically fuming. He had to push it down, trying not to think about it, but the Dikez had been wiped away. There would be no Dikez serving him beers anymore.

His father's most faithful companion had fallen while protecting him, as he always did during their Wyrm Dungeon hunt, only this had been the last time.

They reached one of the southern exits sooner than they expected. The whole army had retired, except the three Tier six, the human Champion, the Jiao woman, and Great Theor. They had remained behind to help the Turtle Boss in dealing with the Tyrant in case the battle took a turn for the worse.

The turtles were a blessing for Kanceldom's economy and society. Tyrants would bring nothing, only harsher Dungeon runs.

As they reached the exit, Larry started planning for an escape. He was confident that he could shatter the shield with support from enhancers and buffers. So he started planning with the people that had followed them in the retreat, more than fifteen of them, the other group had gone for another exit. They had, of course, split, in the unfortunate case that the Giant followed them.

Sigmund didn't like that people who had escaped to other exits would be left behind if they managed to leave, but there were priorities to follow. His father knew what he was doing. There had been talks of a possible attack from the dragons since many Kanceldom defenders had been so busy with the Dungeon, and the city's defenses had thinned. If taking advantage of that, the dragons decided to show themselves at that moment, it would be the end of Kanceldom.

Sigmund placed the two humans down. Turning to look for a healer when someone interrupted him.

"How are they?" Asked the owl-man, taking him slightly by surprise.

This guy enjoys that form too much. It seems to make him stronger, but why use it all the time? Humans, I guess…

"I'm Sato, by the way."

"I'm Sigmund, and they are fine. Your tank is not in top conditions, but nothing a good purge of tainted Mana and a healer cannot solve," Sigmund said.

"I heard of your pro-" Sato was interrupted by a terrible explosion. They both raised their hands to shield their ears.

A cloud of dust burst in the air, from where Larry's shot had reached. The walls had crumbled, and dim light, peculiar of Mana, revealed as an Earth bender whisked the dust away and toward the ground.

The Mana shield revealed in all his glory. It was a little cracked but was swiftly regenerating.

"Again!" Somebody said, followed by another, but Larry hurried toward the see-through barrier, then Sigmund's heart had a fit, as probably did those of all the present, because Larry shouted a loud "NO."

His weird lack of feeling embowed in his words couldn't hide the meaning of that and the tone it had been released with.

He had seen dragons.

As did everybody, Sigmund hurried over to look at the aperture, barely enough to allow each head part of the view.

As he peeked, his head, above most of the Giants present there, he saw it.

Kanceldom was aflame.