After a few minutes, Stephen's mana was fully recovered, and they prepared to enter the last door. Unlike the others, it wasn't just an opening in the wall with an invisible barrier. It was a tall pair of steel doors, wide enough for four people to walk through side by side. Strange designs and glowing runes etched the door; Ruth had spent most of the wait sketching those runes and taking measurements. She'd been sketching every rune she'd come across, but hadn't had a chance to practice any of them and earn the blueprints.

“Everyone ready?” Josh asked once she put her notebook away. “Last chance to run away screaming.”

Mary smirked. Darius rolled his eyes. Ruth just smiled, and Stephen chuckled.

Josh grinned. “All right. Let's get this over with!” He put his hand on the matching symbol on the door. Mary, Ruth, and Darius did the same with the other three.

Light flowed out from where they touched the door, running through veins in the steel like electricity in a circuit board. In seconds, a pattern emerged, a complex geometric rune that Josh could feel Ruth itching to draw. There was no time, though, as the doors cracked open and revealed the chamber on the other side.

It was bigger than the one they were already in, though Josh didn't think by much. It was hard to tell for sure, because there were no walls, no ceiling. Instead, it was as if there was a large circular platform suspended in a sea of stars. Twinkling, glittering motes of light danced in an infinite expanse of black, making it feel as though they would all tumble out into the void if they took a single step.

In the middle of the chamber was the rift, a purple-edged tear in the fabric of reality itself. It felt as though a massive claw had reached out and ripped the very air apart, as easily as if tearing a painting. It stretched from the floor to the ceiling, tall enough for a giant to walk through and wide enough for a boat to sail through.

There was an odd structure around the rift, a mound of something strange. A mix of black and white, like different colors of ash. He couldn't tell what it was in the dim light. A pile of scorched bones, an ossuary or just a pile of sticks. The pile had the shape of something constructed, and it reminded Josh of ancient burial mounds.

He didn't have much of a chance to focus on that, however, because of the giant bird that was slowly rising to its feet in front of them.

It was an eagle with a wingspan as large as a bus. Its eyes glowed a hateful red, and its feathers glistened with a sheen of crimson, as if it had bathed in the blood of its enemies. Even so, Josh noticed that the wings seemed small for its size. Its body was oversized, and its talons gouged into the stone of the dungeon itself. He suspected that even if it did have room inside, it wouldn't be able to fly.

He scanned it, his heart sinking even as he did.

Avian Accipitridae Destroyer Level 24 Monster Ah, the Avian Destroyer. It's always fun when birds take this evolution path. You know that guy at your school who is kind of an idiot, but is really good at one sport? Rugby or something. I dunno. Well, that's what the Destroyer is. It's a bird that has given up its flight in exchange for size, strength, and toughness, in that order. Give it a handful more evolutions, and its wings will be gone entirely. Right now, they remain one of its main weaknesses. Well, they would be, if any of you pansies had weapons strong enough to break them.

That... was bad. A full party of level 10 reclaimers would be slaughtered by this monster. He didn't have much confidence they would do better. Sure, they were higher level and had an extra party member, but most of them were inexperienced and they hadn't been expecting anything like this. They weren't prepared.

“Well?” Ruth said, even as the boss monster stretched up to its full size. “What's the plan?”

“Fighting retreat,” Josh said instantly. “Danson—Darius.” He deserved his first name, at least. “You're our tank, but try to dodge. If you take a hit, make sure your shroud is overcharged as hard as you can. Stephen, keep an eye on him.”

Everyone nodded. The bird watched them, head cocked in a curious manner.

“Now back it up,” Josh whispered. “Back it way up.”

The bird threw back its head and screamed.

Josh clapped his hands over his ears and scrambled back. He didn't dare turn his back on the monster. It spread its wings and flapped, creating a draft that made them stagger.

Before anyone had a chance to do anything else, before Mary had a chance to shoot or the boss had a chance to attack, a massive claw came down on the bird's back. It was squashed down with a squawk that quickly turned into a cry of pain. Then the claw continued pushing down, breaking through the bird's ribs and chest as easily as pushing through a pile of dry leaves.

The bird's cries were cut off before they could even start. In moments, a huge cloud of red mist rose out of the corpse. Slowly, the mist turned red, and flowed into the thing that had killed it.

Josh had assumed that the thing around the rift was a mound of dirt and sticks. The poor lighting had made it hard to see anything, but it had looked like the rift had sunk into the middle of it, creating a ring of dirt around the wound in space.

It had been a dragon. A dragon, curled around that huge rift like a cat around a heater.

It was not a small dragon. Even curled up, one claw stretched out, it was the size of a large house. Stretched out from snout to tail, Josh suspected that it would be a hundred feet or longer. It had six legs like pillars, four wings like sails, and its mouth was filled with sharp fangs the size of glistening swords. Now that he was paying more attention, he could see that its scales were a strange shift of black and white, from deepest black on the tip of its nose, gradually growing lighter until it was gray in the middle of its belly, then finally blindingly white at the tip of its long tail.

Its eyes were closed. It hadn't woken up. It had killed the Avian Destroyer as a reflex, in its sleep.

Josh scanned it.

True Dragon Level: ?? Attacker Level ?? Monster Most so-called dragons are just overgrown lizards or mutated birds, twisted by the Jungle into a shape that humans think looks like a dragon, due to your horrendously over-used pattern recognition skills. Not the case for this one! This is Flamebreak, first named as an insult for his lack of ability to breathe fire. He soon became known for murdering other dragons, especially ones proud of their fire. Weaknesses: Lacks fire breath. Strengths: Literally everything else. Recommended tactics: If you start running now, you may have a chance to enjoy your last thirty seconds of life.

Josh didn't speak. He didn't dare. He just waved desperately at the door. They backed up, ever so slowly. He kept his arms wide, as if he was protecting them. What a laughable concept. This was a monster so far above him he couldn't see its level. That meant it was at least sixty-four levels above him.

No one said anything. No one argued. No one so much as breathed.

With his high Perception, Josh still noticed when Ruth's foot scraped a little too hard on the floor.

One of the dragon's eyes opened, a black and white orb that radiated power.

Everyone froze. Josh wasn't even sure his heart was beating.

“Guests?” the dragon hissed, a low, reverberating noise that shook dust from the ceiling. It—he? The System had referred to it as male. He chuckled, a sound somewhere between a growl and an amused rockslide. He pushed the corpse of the bird monster aside, apparently completely unconcerned to have woken up to a dead body. “It has been so long since I had had guests. Are we to the new world already?”

Josh couldn't move. The monster was talking. That wasn't something that happened. Ever. Oh, he had heard stories about talking monsters. Everyone had. But they were nothing more than drunken ramblings of reclaimers and adventurers. The only stories that had any truth to them were the ones about mimics luring in travelers with fake distress calls.

Either this was the most convincing mimic he had ever seen, or this thing was intelligent.

“Wait...” the dragon rumbled. Three more black and white eyes opened. The monster slowly raised its head, like a massive snake rising out of a coil. “You're... human. How are there any humans still alive?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Josh swallowed. “G-greetings, Great One,” he said. He had to say something. It was obvious that this thing was far, far too powerful for them to even think about fighting. Politeness was more likely to save their lives than empty boasts. “We did not realize this dungeon was occupied by one so grand as you.” He bowed low. “Please, my lord, accept our apologies for disturbing your rest.” That sounded good, right?

His friends were still silent, which was probably the wisest course of action. They bowed too, which was a relief.

“There shouldn't be any humans left,” the dragon muttered to himself, though it was still loud enough that Josh could feel it reverberating in his bones. “It's been at least a hundred years... surely they didn't...” His eyes focused on Josh again. “You there. Did someone reach the top of the Tower? What was their wish?”

Josh straightened. Should he try to answer while still bowing? That felt more rude than meeting the dragon's eyes. “Y-yes, almost eighty years ago now. A small group defeated the final challenge and wished for immortality. They have led our people ever since.” Which was a vast oversimplification, but he had a feeling the dragon didn't want to hear about the life pods and how the first generation was raised.

The dragon stared at him for a long moment, and Josh couldn't identify the expression on his face. Was he angry? Disbelieving? Impressed?

Then he threw back his head and laughed.

His laughter shook Josh's body, shook the room. He had to resist the urge to clap his hands over his ears, though he had a feeling he had taken real damage there. He saw the others trying to shake it off, and Stephen even surreptitiously started healing them.

Eventually, the dragon's mirth faded. He had an expression on his face that Josh suspected was an amused grin. “Of all the wishes to make... I cannot decide if your leaders are fools or geniuses. And they stayed!” He laughed again, shorter this time. “They have at least some foolishness in them, then.”

He leaned down, close enough that Josh could smell ancient, rotten meat on his breath. He wanted to make a witty comment. He did not.

“Tell me, little Crafter,” he said, sounding like nothing more than a cat who had realized the mice were playing nearby. “Do you know what happens when someone makes a wish upon the Tower?”

Josh did not like that tone. “N-no, my lord.”

“The top level of the Tower is transformed into a gateway.” He moved aside, gesturing at the rift in the center of the room. “Similar to this, in concept. But instead of leading to some random world, a place where the hordes can spill out and be slaughtered like the beasts they are, it leads to somewhere greater.” His lips pulled back, revealing countless gleaming teeth. “So thank you, little human. For telling me that your species survived. That they won.” He pulled back and looked down on them. “That means that there is a prize to be claimed.” His head snapped forward.

Everyone was ready for it.

Stephen and Darius, experienced in combat if not in their current classes, scattered and ran towards the exit. Mary grabbed Ruth by the scruff of her neck and dragged her away, not looking back for one single second. That left Josh to fend for himself. He was the dragon's target, directly in the path of that horrible maw, big enough to snap him up in one bite.

Josh didn't have any movement abilities, no combat techniques or teleportation spells. All he had was experience. This was not the first time he had been in a dungeon. This was not the first time he had faced a boss monster that was more dangerous than expected.

Instead of running backwards, to the exit, he ran to the side, towards the wall that separated the chambers. The doors were wide enough to accommodate the dragon's entire head and impossible teeth. They were not, however, wide enough to accommodate the dragon's entire body—at least not easily.

The dragon snapped uselessly in the air, then tried to twist his neck around to bite at Josh again. He observed his thrashing for a moment, then ran around the edge of the room, towards the exit doorway. The dragon snapped at him again, missing first by yards, then by feet, then—

He felt the wind from his jaw snapping shut behind him.

The dragon's roar of rage made his ears bleed.

“It can't follow, right?” Ruth asked, even as Stephen healed them.

“I'm sure as hell not gonna stick around here to find out,” Josh said decisively. He glanced around. The room was still empty, nothing but monster corpses. “Come on!”

Getting out was much easier than getting in. Despite the dragon's roars making the entire dungeon shake and dust fall from the ceiling, there was no sign of actual pursuit. The dungeon was empty, as they had killed every other monster. Never in his life had Josh been so thankful that he had decided to be thorough.

They climbed out the ladder one at a time; Mary first, to kill any curious monsters outside, then Ruth, then Stephen, then Darius, and then Josh himself. He looked back, just once, and swore he could see those black and white eyes in the next room over.

He scrambled up the ladder, out into the darkening Jungle, and slammed the hatch shut behind him. An unnecessary gesture.

“So it can't get out now?” Ruth asked, looking rattled.

“What?” Josh said, still struggling to get his head back on straight. “No, yeah, nothing can get out of a dungeon. They're prisons for monsters. That's the point.” He gave a weak chuckle. “There have been level 1000 monsters stuck in these things, can't get out any more than level 10 raccoons.”

“Until the day before the solstice,” Darius said darkly.

Josh shivered. “Yeah.”

“Right, then!” Mary said, clapping her hands together. Her voice was cheery, but even in the fading light he could see that her hands were shaking. “It's getting late, so let's just get back to camp, mention this little problem to Ruth's daddy, and hope he's got connections all the way to the top.” She gave them all a broad, but shaky smile. “Sound good?”

Josh nodded. “Sounds good.” This was exactly what operatives were for. Even though he certainly couldn't do anything about this creature himself, he could make the calls, get the right people involved. Maybe even the Eight Immortals themselves.

This was a disaster scenario, he realized. This was the disaster scenario. A high-level monster relatively close to the City. If it got out now, it could slaughter the entire human race by itself. This was why the Eight were flying around the world, exterminating high-level monster nests.

“All right,” Josh said, nodding to himself. He took a couple deep breaths. “All right, that's what we'll do. Head back to camp, figure things out—”

A shape moved out of the corner of his eye.

Before he had a chance to do anything, to ask any questions, Stephen pushed him out of the way. Josh fell to the ground just in time for a long knife to stab through Stephen's back and out the front. The knife was withdrawn, and Stephen collapsed. The assailant advanced on Josh, still sitting there on the ground, a splatter of warm blood on his face.

Josh had fought monsters before. He had seen people die before, in every variation. He had seen it happen suddenly. He had seen it happen slowly. He had seen people die in victory, or in shame.

That didn't make it easier. Especially when it was a human who had done it.

Josh couldn't move. The assailant had their knife ready, red blood dripping off a silver blade. Every part of them was cloaked in black from head to toe, except for that knife. It was impossible to focus on anything else.

He couldn't move.

Ruth threw herself in the way, shielding him with her own body. “No!” she cried.

The assailant paused. Josh assumed that they'd just kill them both, or, at best, go around Ruth.

Instead, they cursed under their breath. They ran away so fast that they almost seemed to disappear. Josh's Perception was high enough to realize that they had simply run away at incredible speed, not actually teleported.

“Oh, thank the Eight,” Ruth muttered. She collapsed in relief. Josh let out an oof as her full weight settled onto his stomach. “Thank the Eight Saints who saved the world.”

“Ruth...” Josh gasped. She didn't seem to notice, just hugging him tighter as if to convince herself that he was still there and still alive.

Mary stumbled over. “Get up, you lot! We need to see if we can save Stephen!”

Josh almost threw Ruth off himself, but she got the hint and scrambled to her feet.

Stephen was lying in a pool of his own blood, hand over the gaping hole in his chest. His hand glowed with healing magic, but it was weak. Even at a glance, Josh could tell that it wouldn't be enough to save him.

Darius was struggling with bandages, desperately packing them in and around the wound. “Do any of you have a healing spell?” he asked in what almost seemed like a calm tone. The only thing that gave him away was the slight quaver in his voice, and the way he kept scrambling with the first aid kit.

Josh glanced at the others. Ruth and Mary both looked away sadly.

Of course not. Healing spells, obviously, belonged to the Healer role. It was impossible to learn spells and techniques outside your specific role. That was why Josh hadn't been able to learn any combat techniques this time, and why no one else had been able to learn any utility abilities in the past eighty years. The only exception was if you switched your roles; you kept your old abilities.

They remained silent as Darius used up every bandage, every cleaning pad and bottle of disinfectant. Their first aid kit hadn't been very large to start with, since they had a Healer, and Darius went through them quickly.

Eventually, Darius stopped trying. There was no dramatic last gasp, not even someone with a clock announcing the time of death. Darius just slowly realized that he was fighting a battle that was already over. He let his bloodied hands fall to his sides. Then he just sat there, slumped over as if he had died himself.

Josh waited a good long moment, then put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, bud,” he said quietly. “We gotta get back to camp before it gets any darker.”

Ruth, who had also been silently mourning, looked up, wide-eyed. “What? No! We can't go back!”

He let out a deep sigh. “Ruth, we're all tired. Why don't you just skip to the part where you explain?”

“I recognized that assassin,” she said earnestly. “My father sent her.”

Josh stared. Mary stared. Even Darius looked up and stared.

“Well,” Josh said finally. “Shit.”