Every time his fists touched the stone-like bark, tiny chips flew away. Dull thuds echoed through the clearing. The dense, musty air that permeated the dungeon, kept the sounds contained.
Subtle, almost inaudible groans followed James’ hits as the monster stood immobilized, its boughs quivering slightly under the old man's formidable magic. The Ent, a colossal tree monster with gnarled limbs and a trunk as wide as a small house, whose power should have been enough to paste the puny human wailing on it, slowly suffered more and more. What had been a mere scratch initially became a crack and then a gaping wound, oozing sap, over the course of twenty minutes.
Sweat poured down James' brow, stinging his eyes and flowing down his body. His battle suit, made of high-quality D-rank materials, allowed for some perspiration, but the task he was engaged in was simply too demanding.
Despite his Empowerment skill flooding his veins with mana, enhancing his strength and resilience, James felt stretched to his limits. Each punch felt like striking a solid stone wall, the Ent's bark yielding only the smallest amount.
His fists, which had managed to hurt even the tough skin of F-rank dungeon Bosses, had been mangled by the repetitive, constant punches he was forced to commit to.
No healing had been allowed, even after Ezekiel had found the strength to protest, pointing out that the efficiency of his attacks would considerably go down as his bones broke. "It would mean splitting the EXP even further. This has to be an individual fight, and there cannot be any interference." The old man had said detachedly, his eyes glinting with an unreadable light.
James had long since given up on their guide finding some pity for their suffering. On the surface, Mr. Julian looked to be a jolly person, but the way he pushed them to keep attacking, chipping away at creatures far beyond their ken, showed he had a ruthless, cold side that sent a shiver down James' spine.
Watching Ezekiel finally kill the Dryad, after almost a whole hour of stabbing, imprecations, pleas and more stabbing, had been difficult.
Maria at least had the luxury of distance, which made the whole process more clinical. Her exhaustion, however, had been real, and having to watch her down three high-quality potions the old man produced out of thin air whenever her mana was spent was still not easy. Her opponent had been a fat, white mole whose coming had made the earth tremble beneath their feet.
The old man plucked it out of the ground with the ease with which a child picked up a toy. It, too, had been bound and forced to be roasted alive in a slow, torturous process.
Daniel's assigned monster had been a Titanoboa. A snake with prehistoric characteristics, large enough to be compared to a whale. Its body a mass of coiled muscle, which had easily withstood the Tank's Bashes. It had taken him even longer than Ezekiel to finally kill it after having battered its skull for almost two hours.
Lauren had been the quickest, if only because her monster, a kind of green sprite, had been the most fragile of the lot. Apparently, its magic would have been enough to render them from the earth in a second, but the old man had handled it easily. Still, its human-like characteristic and the pleading sounds it made had turned what should have been the easiest fight into a traumatizing slog.
Even as James kept attacking, so much mana churning in his fists that he could feel nothing from them, he reflected detachedly that his fight was the best one. He still couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the creature. It had been alive, a part of this dungeon's ecosystem, before they had come along. Now, it was nothing more than a target, a means to an end in his quest for power and advancement.
It would be killed by someone much weaker than it, all because a monstrous old man had decided it would make for a good victim.
I have killed so many monsters and never felt anything like this. It's nothing close to what killing that man was like, but there is still some guilt. It's like I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I'll still keep doing it in the name of gaining power. That's an icky feeling.
But he pushed these thoughts aside. This was the life of an Awakener, the path he had chosen. Survival and strength were the world's currencies these days, and he needed to grow for his and his team’s sake.
Eventually, as the haze of pain started becoming too much to bear, James considered asking for a potion, or at least something to numb the feeling. But he didn't. A small part of him felt the need to complete this task alone, without outside help beyond what was absolutely necessary.
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That was what broke his subconscious limitation on the most dangerous development of his mana manipulation skills. Ever since that day in the desert dungeon, he had not used his corrosive mana again. At least not in real-life fights. James had been too afraid of what his power could do. What it had done.
But now, he just wanted the Ent to die. He wanted the pain to stop and to be able to rest.
Taking hold of the dregs of mana that remained in his system, James gritted his teeth, his mind coalescing around the determination to end the fight.
Every cell of his body gave its due, every ounce of energy he could spare was collected and molded under the immense pressure of his will.
Slowly, with a labored breath, he stopped his assault. The bark had been broken open, that was true, but it would take him too long to reach the mana stone beneath the hard wood. Thus, he placed a hand inside the wound, almost gently.
He exhaled and, with it, let go of the corrosive mana, guiding it down his arm and into the monster.
Unsurprisingly, the Ent fell slower than all other creatures he had tried this technique on. Its mana system was much more resilient than any before. It fought back against him, pushing away at the invading force.
James had never been on the receiving end of his own attack, but he could imagine it felt like a terrifying, slow creep as it took over more and more of the victim's body, using their own power to fuel itself.
That, in the end, was what killed the Ent. Despite its incredible vitality and powerful mana, there was nothing it could do as the old man constrained its external skills. Its insides were slowly invaded, and its power was used to fuel the corrosion.
With a groan that sounded almost like a sigh, the massive tree monster began to crumble upon itself. Gently, it was lowered down by an unseen force, until the mighty Ent rested on the loamy forest floor, to the ignorant looking nothing different than a regular oak tree that had been felled by rot and time.
James stood there, panting heavily, his hands trembling from exertion and pain. A notification flashed from the back of his mind, telling of his defeat of an [Ancient Ent] and two levels gained. A minuscule reward for such a monumental effort, but most of the credit went to Mr. Julian's magic.
His vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness fraying. The pain, exhaustion, and emotional turmoil of the fight converged, overwhelming him. His knees buckled, and the world went dark.
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When James awoke, he found himself at the dungeon's exit, lying on the cold, damp ground. His body ached in protest at every movement; despite that, he could feel his hands having been healed. His teammates were scattered around him, each nursing their own wounds and fatigue. Considering how tired Ezekiel had been after his fight, basic field healing and taking care of the worst injuries was all he could be expected to do. Without the potions the old man freely offered, he would not have been capable of even that.
Mr. Julian stood a short distance away, his back to them as if in contemplation.
The old man turned, his expression unreadable. "You have done well." He began, his voice betraying no hint of either approval or disappointment. "Your determination, at least, is commendable."
James struggled to sit up, his body screaming in protest. He noticed that his hands had been bandaged with expert care. Blood and gore still covered his uniform, most of which was his own. Some sap coated his arms, sticky and dense, and James momentarily despaired at the thought of having to scrub his suit clean before the next deployment.
He looked around at his team, seeing in their eyes a reflection of his own feelings – a mixture of pride, exhaustion, and an unspoken question about the price of this experience. The mental toll of fighting the defenseless B-rank monsters was more significant than they expected, even though they logically knew those same creatures would not have wasted a second in killing them, had they wandered through the dungeon without the old man's protection.
Mr. Julian continued. "Your progress today was significant, but the path ahead remains steep. We will do this again the day after tomorrow. Rest as much as you can while at the Facility to prepare for another trial like this."
His voice had no apology or hint of regret for what they had endured. It was a statement of fact, a declaration of the reality of their situation. James felt resentment and respect for the old man. He had pushed them to their limits but had only done so to make them stronger. To grant them a chance at an even better rank up.
"The experience you gained today, though reduced by my presence, is invaluable. However, it’s important you understand that without me, you would not survive these encounters." The old man continued. "Don't waste time thinking of how much more you would have gained without my interference. You would have died. I have already lost too many promising prospects to this exact foolishness. We will need two more dives like this to reach your goal of level 100, and I intend to bring you all back from those."
Is there really a G-rank in the world that thinks they can somehow survive going through a B-rank dungeon? Well, I suppose there is always someone that stupid around if he says he has lost people like this.
No one had anything to say; they were too tired and mentally drawn to even bother arguing against the order to do it all over again.
They had known things would be much more complicated than usual as they gathered the EXP for the Last Five. Reality being even harsher would not make them back down.
Team 0 had faced terrible odds before, and this was nothing compared to that. They would emerge from this experience stronger than ever, and all members knew they would need that power to face what was brewing beyond the horizon.
I'd do this a hundred times if it means getting the best Talent evolution possible. It's horrible, tiring, and messy work; I feel like crap and want to crawl into bed and never get out. But I'll still do it.
Miss Walker had trusted them to achieve the next rank, and they wouldn't disappoint her.
"I'll inform Leonid to leave you be tomorrow. Given your results, I’ll makes sure you have access to the officers' baths, which are pretty luxurious." The old man added, stroking his beard.
That lifted their mood. They had heard rumors of large pools of warm water, scented oils, and even massaging chairs, but they had thought them far beyond their ability to reach.
Maybe this won't be so bad.