As Hanzo and his party prepared to face the Grock, their priest swiftly raised his staff, chanting under his breath. A surge of energy enveloped Hanzo, and his blade ignited with roaring flames.
"Elemental Fire Damage!" the priest declared, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
The two knights followed suit. "Taunt!" one shouted, his armor gleaming as he stepped forward, drawing the Grock's glowing eyes toward him.
"Berserk!" the other roared, veins bulging as raw power surged through his muscles.
Hanzo smirked, rolling his shoulders. "I'll handle this alone."
With a swift motion, he formed a hand seal. "Double Clone!" Instantly, two identical figures materialized beside him, their blades wreathed in the same fiery glow. Normally, clones only possessed half their creator's power, but with the combined buffs, these duplicates matched Hanzo's full strength.
The three of them blurred into motion, encircling the Grock like shadows.
"Multi-Shuriken!" Hanzo commanded.
A storm of whirling blades shot forward, each one striking true. The Grock bellowed in pain, its massive frame quivering as the impact struck vital weak points. Stunned, it swayed unsteadily.
"Now!" Hanzo roared.
"Double Critical Attack!"
As one, he and his clones lunged, their blades flashing in unison. Four devastating slashes carved into the Grock's core, each strike sending tremors through the cavern walls. The creature let out a final, guttural cry before collapsing with a deafening crash.
Hanzo exhaled, his breath ragged. Victory was his—
A sudden surge of energy crackled behind him.
Lightning.
A second Grock loomed from the shadows, its massive fist arcing toward him, charged with lethal electricity.
"The taunt is still on cooldown!" one knight shouted in panic.
The crackling fist descended—
Ford "Defense Switch!"-(a skill that can gain from floor boss 10 Switcher Clown for swordsman)
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A flash of energy. Hanzo vanished, and in his place, Ford stood, shield raised.
The impact was monstrous. Sparks exploded from the collision, sending Ford skidding backward, his boots carving trenches into the dungeon floor. His health plummeted.
"Taunt!" Ford yelled, wrenching himself upright. The Grock's fury locked onto him.
"Prius!" Ford called, urgency in his voice.
Prius didn't hesitate. "Divine Cloth!" A shimmering aura wrapped around Ford, his movements suddenly twice as fast—but exhaustion already tugged at Prius' expression. Even so, he forced his hands forward, weaving a swift healing spell. Warm light flowed into Ford, patching some of his wounds.
Ford turned to Jazz. "Ready?"
Jazz nodded, eyes gleaming. "It's set."
"Berserk!" Ford bellowed, his skill surging through the party, doubling their attack power and sharpening Jazz's critical strikes to a razor's edge.
"Defense Switch-!"
In an instant, Jazz stood before the Grock, her staff humming with power. A confident smirk played on her lips.
"Time to finish this."
She lifted her staff, incanting rapidly. Flames coiled around her, growing denser, fiercer. The air itself warped from the heat.
"Ultimate Mage—Burning Will!"
A column of pure fire erupted from her staff, slamming into the Grock like divine retribution. The beast shrieked, writhing as the inferno devoured it whole. The cavern walls glowed orange, flickering with searing embers. When the flames finally faded, nothing remained of the Grock but molten stone.
Jazz lowered her staff, panting. "That's one way to deal with an unexpected problem."
Hanzo whistled, impressed. "Not bad. Few can master that move."
Patty's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Could you teach me that, Senpai?"
Laughter echoed through the chamber. They settled down, exhaustion giving way to camaraderie as they shared food and banter. But the moment of peace was short-lived.
Ford's expression darkened. "Something isn't right. Why was a 21st-floor monster here on the 20th floor?"
Jazz frowned. "It's strange. Should we even continue this quest?"
Before anyone could answer, the ground trembled. A deep, ominous quake shuddered through the dungeon, as if something massive was awakening.
Then, from the corridor ahead, a monstrous roar split the air.
A vast shadow loomed into view—The Chieftain WarSword, the boss of the 20th floor. Its hulking form dominated the chamber, its eyes burning with primal rage.
But it wasn't alone.
A figure descended from the Chieftain's back, moving with eerie precision. The beast knelt before him, as if in reverence.
Power radiated from the newcomer, suffocating, undeniable.
A voice, cold as steel, sliced through the tension.
"I am Raven, one of the bosses of the 60th floor."
Silence. Disbelief.
A floor 60 boss—here?
Raven's gaze drifted across them, disinterested, until his sharp eyes locked onto Jazz. His lips curled into a smirk.
"I sense an aura here… the same as Anglia's Burning Will." His voice darkened, filled with an unsettling certainty. "Who might she be?"
A pause, thick with unspoken threat.
"I will let all of you survive—just give me her."