When the door to the exit appeared, Travis pushed himself up and strode out of the Dungeon. The stale, oppressive air gave way to the crisp breeze of the outside world, which hit his sweat-slicked skin like a refreshing wave. He dropped to the ground, the hard surface beneath him a welcome reminder of his progress.
His gaze locked on the glowing number "6" etched into the nearby monolith. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. This was exactly why he had ventured into the Dungeon—to fight, to endure, and to grow stronger.
His muscles protested as he stood, his legs heavy with exhaustion. He fumbled for the hunger potion in his pouch, uncorking it with a sharp twist. The liquid slid down his throat, rich and satisfying, banishing the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. He exhaled deeply, the tension in his body easing slightly.
Tilting his head back, he stared at the looming entrance to the next floor, its ominous aura practically daring him to continue.
'Can't wait to reach the last one,' he thought, a glimmer of determination sparking in his eyes. Adjusting his gear, he pressed forward, each step resonating with resolve.
---
Outside the village, chaos reigned as the governor ensured every resident evacuated toward the safety of the forest. His jaw was set tight, his weathered face etched with lines of worry. The last thing he needed was the burden of worrying about casualties.
The streets were a frenzied mess of villagers clutching prized possessions, ignoring his repeated orders to carry only the essentials. Pots, heirlooms, and bundles of clothing weighed them down, slowing their escape. Yet none of them seemed to care; their trembling hands and hurried steps spoke of relief that they were alive and together.
At the edge of the village, Anthony stood grim-faced, overseeing the evacuation. He had already dispatched the urgent request for an S-ranked adventurer. It was a rare and powerful designation, one that carried the weight of the Emperor’s approval. Unlike the more common D to A ranks, S was a mark of distinction, reserved for those who had surpassed even the elite knights.
Once, only knights had been granted such an honor. But as adventurers began to rival—and often exceed—the strength of imperial knights, the rank was expanded to include them. Now, across the empire, over two million S-ranked adventurers carried unique powers, each more extraordinary than the last.
The guildmaster stormed into his office, his boots echoing against the polished wooden floor as he pushed the door closed behind him.
"I've gathered all the adventurers. They're all on the front lines right now," he reported quickly, his voice carrying a mix of urgency and weariness.
Anthony nodded, his sharp gaze fixed on the map spread out on the desk. "Thank you," he replied, his tone calm but edged with tension.
The guildmaster hesitated for a moment, then added, "I hope everything goes as planned."
Anthony straightened, his fingers brushing against the edge of the map. "So do I," he said gravely. "As long as that S-ranked adventurer arrives early, we'll have nothing to worry about."
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The guildmaster crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Yes, that's what I'm counting on too. But if not... I hope our adventurers are prepared for the worst."
Anthony's jaw tightened. "They'll have to be," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
---
In front of the city gates, dozens of adventurers stood at the ready. Some leaned casually on their weapons, their faces calm and composed, while others shifted nervously, their hands gripping hilts or staff shafts with white-knuckled tension.
"Why do I have to fight for this stupid town? I don't even live here," muttered an adventurer named Caleb, his tone dripping with frustration. He adjusted the straps of his armor, clearly displeased.
Jacob, standing beside him, smirked. "They promised us a reward, remember? That’s all I’m looking forward to. I need new gear, and this payout should cover it."
Logan, their tall and broad-shouldered friend, chuckled, cracking his knuckles. "Same here, but I’m in it for the fight too. Never fought ogres before. Heard they’re pretty strong."
The trio, a well-known party in the guild, had been together for years. Though they had grown up in the same town, their friendship had truly deepened as they faced the trials of adventuring life together. Their bond was evident in the way they spoke—gruff words masking a trust forged in countless battles.
As the minutes passed, the ground's tremors grew stronger. Every adventurer felt the vibrations creeping up their legs, rattling their bones. When the ogre army finally crested the hill, it was a sight that stole the breath from their lungs.
The ogres towered above any human, their hulking forms clad in piecemeal armor of iron, bone, and leather. Massive clubs, axes, and spiked maces rested on their broad shoulders. Their guttural chants rolled across the battlefield like thunder, their yellow eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
"Gods help us," Caleb muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Steady yourselves!" Marcus called, his voice cutting through the rising panic. "We’ve fought worse!"
Logan exhaled sharply, gripping his greatsword with both hands. "If we live through this, I’m getting a drink the size of one of those bastards."
Caleb glanced at him, smirking despite his nerves. "Drinks are on you if we survive."
The ogres’ pace quickened, their charge rumbling like an avalanche. The first wave bore down on the adventurers, their thunderous footfalls growing deafening.
"Get ready!" Marcus roared. "Mages, now!"
A fiery explosion erupted on the left flank as Marcus slammed his staff into the ground.
"Infernal Pillar!" A massive column of fire shot skyward, engulfing several ogres in a blazing inferno. Their roars of pain shook the battlefield, but more surged forward, undeterred by the carnage.
Beside him, the silver-haired mage raised her hands, her eyes glowing brighter. "Glacial Prison!" Massive spikes of ice burst from the ground, impaling an ogre mid-charge. The beast groaned and collapsed, but its comrades trampled over its body, shattering the ice as they advanced.
The first ogre to reach the adventurer's line swung a club the size of a tree trunk. Logan sidestepped just in time, the wind from the blow rustling his hair. With a shout, he brought his greatsword down on the ogre’s exposed leg, slicing deep into its flesh. The beast howled, dropping to one knee, and Logan finished it with a clean upward slash to its neck.
"One down!" Logan yelled, though his triumph was short-lived. Another ogre loomed over him, its mace raised high.
"Move, Logan!" Caleb shouted, throwing one of his daggers. The blade embedded itself in the ogre’s eye, making it stagger back with a guttural roar.
Jacob loosed an arrow, striking the beast in the throat, and it collapsed, choking on its own blood.
"Thanks, both of you," Logan panted, rolling his shoulder.
"Don’t get cocky!" Jacob warned, already nocking another arrow.
The battle raged on. Ogres smashed through shields and bodies alike, their raw strength overwhelming the adventurers. A young mage tried to cast a spell but was struck down by a massive club before she could finish the incantation, her lifeless body flung like a ragdoll.
"Fall back! Regroup!" Marcus yelled, his voice straining as he unleashed a torrent of fire to cover their retreat.
"No retreat!" a burly warrior bellowed, planting his shield in the dirt to stop an ogre's advance. The beast swung its axe, splitting the shield—and the man behind it—in two.
"Keep fighting!" Caleb yelled, darting in and out of the chaos. His daggers flashed as he targeted weak points, severing tendons and stabbing at vital spots.
An ogre slammed its fist into the ground, narrowly missing Caleb, who rolled away and stabbed upward, his blade plunging into its thick forearm. It bellowed in pain and backhanded him, sending him sprawling across the dirt.
"Caleb!" Logan roared, charging to his friend's aid. His greatsword struck true, cleaving through the ogre’s arm before burying itself in its chest.
Marcus, now drenched in sweat, raised his staff again. "We can’t keep this up!!"
"Save your breath," the silver-haired mage muttered, her voice cold as the frost forming around her hands. "Focus on surviving."
With a sweep of her arms, a torrent of icy spikes shot forth, piercing through the ogres in her path. One fell, but two more advanced, shattering the ice as they stomped forward.
The adventurers were losing ground, their ranks thinning as more fell to the relentless assault. Despite their desperation, the ogres showed no signs of slowing.
"We’re outnumbered!" someone screamed.
"No kidding!" Logan growled, stepping in front of Caleb as another ogre barreled toward them. "Get up, Caleb. We’re not dying here!"
TO BE CONTINUED