### Arthur ###

[Boss Gate: The Scarred Venom.]

Scarred Venom?

“I brought some antidotes with us…” Judas spoke, “But not enough for everyone. What do we do?”

Arthur studied the faces of his allies. Numerous basilisks sprawled beneath their feet, each taking a massive toll on their party. He’d bring more of his men, but the dungeon had imposed a thirty-man party size limit.

How many have we killed?

Exhaustion, fear, trepidation, anxiety. Some went as far as to clutch their arms, eyes devoid of life. The sheer number of basilisks and time reaped their initial excitement.

He saw where Damon looked; the sky had turned dark… again.

It’ll only be worse from now on.

“Arthur,” Desmond’s voice shook him off his thoughts, “-it may be wise to return.”

How did the other parties clear the other dungeons? Arthur could not wrap it around his head. How weak must they be to struggle this much?

“I agree…” Arthur sighed.

“Sir!” One of Justine’s men ran to them, panting. She sent him to scout the entrance when they rested, “The entrance—it’s-“ Arthur saw the despair in his eyes. “-It’s… closed. There’s a force preventing us from leaving. A message appeared—it said-”

“We can’t leave until we beat this thing,” Damon completed that man’s sentence, “Shit.”

And now we’re trapped.

Strange. There was nothing like that when they stepped in here. Did it trigger when they found the gate?

Justine sighed, followed by a cough. “Wow. What a dick.” Arthur never saw fear cladding Justine’s eyes. This was her first… and hopefully, her last. Her grim expression foreboded the reality of their situation.

Stuck in a dungeon filled with monsters they could barely kill… faced with a gate containing something far more treacherous than that, exhausted from the unending battle, with the possibility of never seeing the light again…

He glanced behind. Most avoided his eyes.

I have to do something. At least a few words of encouragement, anything… Anything to dispel this… despair. Their crestfallen eyes struck a chord in his heart. Arthur shook his head. Can’t show weakness. He gritted his teeth. Everyone-

He turned toward his companions. What’d he give to be in their spot; to depend on someone else, to rely on their shoulders, to find outside strength to mellow that tension in their chest…

He felt his legs weakening.

In the end… his status as a chosen did not relieve him of his humanity. Arthur wasn’t anyone special. Valkyrie made him special, but that came in the form of numbers and physical strength… Prowess over human fears? This wasn’t a problem her blessings could solve.

“Arthur.” A still hand nudged his shoulder.

“Damon?”

The new guy.

“It’ll be alright.” He said, smiling. Arthur saw the tension in his complexion, but that man had powered through his fears. “No one’s expecting miracles. From what I’ve seen… you’re doing a great job.”

The gates to the dungeon boss loomed larger every second, choking on his sight. “I don’t know what to say—what to do.” He whispered.

Damon chuckled. “There is no right answer.”

No right answer? Arthur returned his gaze toward his allies. If he was in their shoes… what would he want to hear? That he’d be safe? That he’d make it out alive?

Arthur forced air to circulate through his lungs.

“Everyone.” He garnered everyone’s attention, speaking softly. “I won’t soften our perilous predicament. This… may be the last time we ever speak again. Whatever lies behind that door…” He tilted the head of his spear toward the gate. “I dare not say.”

What even is this thing?

Arthur turned to his closest allies, they gave him a nod.

“But nothing will change if we wait.” His eyes trailed toward the gates. “Let’s go.”

Desmond, Justine, Adrian, and Judas stepped forward. They had always been brave—more courageous than Arthur ever was. Then the newcomers… Damon, Sarah, and Agil. The three had performed admirably. The rest followed, their eyes filled with concern.

The gates opened. A storm of cold, acidic air rushed through Damon’s armor. He swore he heard something sizzling. The other guys soon encroached the entrance, eyes peering into the deep darkness, searching for their demise.

Arthur and his party stood with their eyes agape. A dark, rocky chamber dotted with pools of green, sizzling liquid awaited their presence. In its core, where a stream of moonlight leaked from the ceiling, sat a creature beyond their wildest imaginations.

A majestic lizard lay in the heart of the chamber. Its forest-tinted scales glimmered as light bounced off its gaunt figure. Two small wings sprouted from its back, neither seemed big enough to propel this creature into the air. As enigmatic a sight it beheld… Arthur couldn’t help but stare at its tail. It’s… like a spear, he thought, grimacing at the notion of being stabbed by its jagged tip.

Its right eye, it’s scarred.

It didn’t react when the gates opened.

“It’s asleep,” Desmond whispered. “I suggest we attack from here—draw that thing outside.”

[Everyone present must enter the chamber before initiating combat.]

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Of course,” He heard Desmond’s groan, “Why make it easy?”

Their nervous steps echoed.

“Gate’s… closed.” One guy spoke. “We’re trapped.”

No running away. Arthur dared a peek at the slumbering beast. No. Not slumbering anymore. Its one healthy eye had opened—a slitted iris the color of amber.

[The Scarred Venom—Dungeon Boss—level 15]

The monstrous creature hissed.

“Buffs. Spells… Everything,” Damon whispered.

Multiple chantings clashed against the silence and their foe’s hisses.

“Ready,” Desmond whispered. “Let’s-“

“DUCK!” Damon yelled.

Arthur slid forward, nearly tumbling from the gale sent forth by the force of its lashing tail. The clangor of steel bellowed, a clash between the shields and the creature’s lash.

Fast. His eyes widened.

“Its eyes! Aim the head!” He pointed at the creature’s eyes.

A volley of arrows barraged the scarred venom’s head, followed closely by a rain of spells—fireballs, lightning strikes, icicles. The scales repelled most of the ranged assault.

But not all. It is working…

The lizard answered with another tail swipe, one that almost caught Arthur’s face.

“Shit-“ He heard Damon’s growl, “We can’t take much more of that.”

Passivity won’t bring us anywhere. Arthur grasped his spear tighter.

“Protect the backline,” He blitzed onward. ”The spells and arrows are working, we must give them space.”

“[Haste]” Sarah whispered.

The creature stepped back, rearing its tail for another series of lashes. Pools of acidic liquid coated its sharp, jagged edges, corroding the stone floor when it dripped.

Swoosh.

An almighty force sent him flying. Pain of untold levels burned his right shoulder.

I barely saw it.

[Deadly poison. You are losing 1% health per second.]

“ARTHUR!” He couldn’t tell whose voice it was, it didn’t matter.

“FOCUS!” He roared.

Another barrage of spells fell on their foe.

He slammed his spear and used it as leverage to stand, shirking off his pain. His lips quivered as he downed an entire salve of antidote, removing him from his debilitation.

The vanguard stood guard, their shields and weapons bracing for another area-wide swipe. Damon… Judas… Their faces were white from terror, but they held on to their roles regardless.

The lizard’s mouth foamed from the same ooze coating its tail. A projectile?

It discharged burning acid at them. Their shields caught most of the spit.

Hiss…

I need a decisive attack. He grimaced, paying close attention to the beast’s limbs and tails. That pressure in his chest built up—his fears, his distress, the weight of the trust his friends had put into him—pressures he must persevere through.

Another volley of spells and arrows flew; this time, he noted the lesser intensity and amount of projectiles coming from his side.

Arthur pressed on, each step heavier than the one before. It curved its tail around its torso as if it wielded a shield, gearing for another nasty swipe toward his location.

Focus. He licked the sweat dripping on his lips.

It jerked forward, its tail blurring as it approached. Jump.

He pushed upward with all his might. The air curved when its tail swiped past. Arthur landed. Claws-

The creature raised its right front limb. Duck- he pulled his head just far back enough to feel its sharp claws ravaging the space where his head was.

Just when he thought he’d slid past its defenses, a long shadow fell on his head. Arthur’s eyes gaped.

The tail-

“WATCH OUT!” A massive shield popped into his view, mantling his sight from certain doom.

CLANK-

An almighty force sent both of them toward the walls. He heard bones snapping. Damon lay still beside him, his shoulders torn from the impact, grimacing. “GO!” He cried.

Arthur pushed himself off. The vanguard had caught up to his location, momentarily drawing the beast’s attention away.

The head. His eyes honed onto its wounded head. Its once pristine scales had darkened from their bombardment of flames and lightning and ice, arrows sticking out between the gaps of its scales. It reared its head up as its mouth frothed from its acid.

Not again. Arthur leaped upward.

His momentum sent both of them face-to-face. Arthur’s glare met the creature’s slitted eyes. Deadly thrust- A coating of light blanketed his spear, followed by a fully charged thrust on its head.

Stab.

Arthur’s spear sank into his jaw. Acid gushed from the wounds carved into its scaly lips. The beast recoiled. Arthur held on to his spear as it flailed, thrashing his body around like a ragdoll. He sensed them—the creature’s pain, the embers of its desperation—and he’d be a fool not to capitalize on it.

Not letting go- He winced as his arms held on for dear life.

More blades made contact with the beast’s body. Their combined assault finally came together. The flailings waned. Exhaustion clad the monster’s slitted eyes.

“GRAHHHHH!” He roared as he yanked his spear back, landing with his foot.

He resumed his assault on its head when his feet found a solid footing. Each stab drained the beast’s will and vigor, drawing more blood and pushing it toward the line of death. The best never relented, even when it was drained of its vigor, its lash dancing as it attempted to push its foes back.

It’s much, much slower. Arthur noted, strength building up in his eyes. If we keep this up…

“GO!” He screamed. His arms trembled as a gentle light coated his spear once more. Without its agility, Arthur found no struggle to slip through its defenses.

Even when wounded, it still took them a while before they brought it to its knees. Arthur ended the fight by piercing his spear through its upper jaw.

The song of silence heralded their victory—a tune of cracking rocks and exasperated breaths from his allies.

[You gained 7600 shared experience points!]

[You obtained 2000 credits!]

[You obtained a dungeon treasure chest tier 2. Check your inventory.]

[You leveled up!]

[The goddess, Valkyrie, commends your achievement.]

[She wishes to impart you another blessing.]

### Damon ###

“Yo! Damon!”

Damon squeezed his eyes awake. “W-What…”

“It’s dead.” Agil said, tapping his shoulder, “It’s over.”

“We won.” Sarah chimed.

The memories slowly returned. The dungeon… The scarred Venom… “It’s dead?” He said, disbelief thick in his croaky voice.

“It is.” Sarah sighed, “Fuck, that was close.”

Damon stood up, feeling his shoulders. The boss’ tail shattered his bones to pieces.

His eyes searched for Arthur.

“We finished it off after you slept,” Sarah patted his chest, “That was good, what you did. Heck, it probably saved our asses.”

“It’s a shame not every one of us made it.” Justine came over, her eyes a little distant. “We lost a few.”

Damon found a few lifeless human bodies near the Scarred Venom.

Rest in peace.

“Arthur!” Desmond’s voice called out to them. “Look!”

A swirling orb manifested atop the slain monster. “Another treasure?” Arthur asked as he came over to him. Damon followed suit.

[Swirling Entity Tier-1 orb - ???]

Entity? No details… no descriptions…

“What’s that?” Damon peered closer, squinting.

[Four Dungeons have been cleared.]

[#1 Major Event commences.]

[The Goblin’s invasion]

[Grog’Mar, the goblin chieftain will send his generals to conquer the land in 72 hours.]

[A goblin patrol will be sent to all active beacons every day, incrementing in size.]

[Invasion difficulty level: Nightmare.]

Nightmare?

“Motherfucker,” Sarah groaned. “What now?”

“We survived. That is what matters tonight. The rest… we’ll deal with after we go home.” Arthur declared. The relative darkness masked most of his complexion, but the tone of his voice… Damon did not sense much confidence.

“What do we do with them?” Someone pointed at their dead comrades. Their bodies lay limp under the calm bloom of the moonlight.

None dared to approach them.

“We can bury them…” Arthur’s eyes dimmed. “That’s the least we can do.”

###