Erik sighed, looking ahead. He tightened his fist, feeling the cold metal of the gauntlets gnawing at him. With these, his fists were more powerful and he didn’t hurt himself anymore badly when using [Ablaze] or any other fire spell near him. They would be invaluable for the battle ahead.

A few students gathered in front of the iron doors, they placed their hands on it and started to push. A rustling noise echoed throughout the dungeon as they moved the enormous structure, grazing the ground below. As they peered the entrance open, Erik could only see darkness.

Whatever lay ahead didn’t want to show itself.

Professor George and Helen were the first to enter the room, his small fragments of light shifting and multiplying, illuminating the dark.

Erik looked to his side, at his friends. They who had started more as spectators than anything else would now have to trust their lives on one another to succeed. It would be a tough battle, no matter what.

Aria offered a nod, a soft glowing aura growing around her, making Erik smile softly.

Erik stepped forward with the group.

With each step, he felt something he wasn’t prepared for. The air beyond had a kind of pressure that he wasn’t used to.

It was oppressive, nauseating, frightening. This was a place humans weren’t meant to enter, and his instincts made that clear to him.

It felt like this was a place where life couldn’t exist, even the moss that could be seen almost everyone in the dungeon was not sprouting here. This was the end of their adventure.

Worst of all, they hadn’t even seen the boss yet.

Professor George’s fragments of light darted forward like fireflies, illuminating jagged stone walls and the ground. The ceiling stretched high above, disappearing into an abyss of shadow. Strange, angular carvings marred the surfaces—some chipped and eroded with time, others too sharp, too precise, as if freshly etched.

It felt wrong, it was as if someone or rather something had planned this for them. That wasn’t a completely wasteful thought, that’s the job the dungeon boss had after all. Await powerful adventurers to strike it down while trying their unleash their horrors upon the humanity of the adventurers.

This, Erik felt clearly.

At the far end of the cavernous room, the light caught on something massive, drawing Erik’s gaze. As the shadows shifted and the flickering illumination reached further, an ancient throne revealed itself, carved directly from the stone of the chamber.

It was a monolithic structure, its shape jagged and uneven, as though it had been wrenched without care for its appearance. Cracks ran through its structure, splitting the grey rock. Edges were crumbling, and strange, rune-like drawings were carved on them.

It loomed above the room like a monument of forgotten power. The backrest rose high, spiked at the top like the horns of some ancient beast. The air around the throne felt heavier, as though its mere presence twisted the atmosphere into something unnatural.

At its base, a shattered crown lay discarded, half-buried in the dirt. Something about this felt wrong—as if even looking at it for too long would stir something best left undisturbed.

This should have been the resting place of the boss. Yet, Erik couldn’t see anything here. Was this abandoned, somehow?

He glanced at the serious, they had mostly serious looks, their gazes onto the throne.

Erik couldn’t shake the feeling that this was meant for something more than a mere non-sentient undead. No matter how powerful it might be, this seemed to be awaiting something more.

Then, the silence was over.

A low, resonating hum echoed through the chamber, emanating from the throne itself. They began to stir. Shadows thickened around it, coiling like darkness surrounding the light.

Erik’s hair got up, prickled with an unshakable sense of fear.

“Everyone,” Helen looked back, her eyes wide and expression serious. “Get Ready!” she shouted.

From the base of the throne, a figure began to emerge, its tall skeletal form rising slowly, as if waking from an endless slumber. The tattered remains of its robe fluttered like there was a breeze. It’s worn, cut open edges, revealing glimpses of weathered, bone beneath. Green mist seeped from its ribcage, swirling and pulsating like a heart. Atop its head was the crown that was buried in dirt.

The Elder Lich rose to its full height, its jagged staff clutched in one bony hand. The emerald gem at its crown, sent ripples of green light cascading across the room. Its other hand moved with grace, the swirling green aura around it writhing like a living thing.

Before the monster had any time to attack, however, the magician students struck. In a single moment, several spells came to him, hurling at great speeds.

It wouldn’t be so easy of course. It couldn’t be.

With a swing of its hand, a green barrier appeared around the monster, blocking all the attacks.

Professor George motioned his glasses, sighing deeply. “That’s a fourth-tier spell, as expected from the boss of a C-rank dungeon.”

The lich raised its jagged staff high, the emerald gem at its tip pulsating. A crack reverberated through the chamber as it slammed the base of the staff against the stone throne. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, a deep, resonating sound that outstretched through the entire room.

The floor beneath them groaned in protest before trembling violently, loose debris skittered across the uneven surface. Small fissures split the ground, their jagged lines glowing faintly with green light. Then came the sound—wet, grotesque, like flesh and bone tearing free from the earth itself.

From the cracks and holes on the ground, twisted figures began to emerge. Rotting hands clawed upward, their broken nails scraping against stone as they dragged themselves free from the ground.

Skeletal warriors, their bones blackened and fractured, rose from the shallow graves, clutching rusted weapons. Ghoulish figures with flesh in varying stages of decay writhed out of the dirt, their slimy eyes and protruding tongues competing to be the most grotesque sight of the cavern.

The stench of rot and the sound of clattering bones filled the air, pressing in from all sides.

Erik grinned, though it wasn't amusement that curled his lips—it was adrenaline. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat threatening to explode, and the grin was the only outlet he could muster.

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‘This is it,’ they had prepared for this moment as a summoner-type enemy was the most likely boss for this kind of dungeon.

The plan was simple: the most powerful students, including Kyle and Helen, with the assistance of Professor George, would take on the abominable creature summoning the undead. Meanwhile, the rest of the group would hold back the tide of minions.

Erik intended to be more than just a bystander.

Before doubt could cloud his mind, he darted through the horde of undead, the flickering glow of his fire magic cutting through the dim chaos. His gauntlets pulsed with energy, before erupting into flames. Each strike, a burst that lit up the cavern.

Around him, the undead screeched and hissed, but Erik pressed on, determined to make himself useful.

A ghoul lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air. Erik ducked low, the swipe nearly hitting. He countered with. “[Ablaze]!” he growled, and flames erupted from his fists, engulfing the creature. It collapsed in a smoldering heap of flesh.

Another zombie staggered toward him, its decayed arms outstretched, the stench of death clinging to it like a shroud. Erik sidestepped. “[Fireball]!” he stepped forth, hitting the monster with the fireball into its chest. The impact sent the zombie stumbling backward, flames spreading rapidly across its rotting form until it crumbled into a pile of blackened remains.

The ground beneath him trembled as more undead emerged. Erik glanced at the Lich, still seated on its throne, its skeletal hand raised like a puppeteer orchestrating the attack. Certainly defeating him would end all but Erik had to trust that others could do it for him.

That’s when his eye caught a blur of motion. Erik tried to turn in time, but—

—Before he could react, Aria kicked it away. The ghoul flew back, crashing into a pile of skeletal remains, crunching against them.

“I’ve got your back!” Aria shouted. She pivoted smoothly, striking down another ghoul with a spinning kick that cracked its jaw clean off. Her skills were indeed amazing, she was so proficient in combat that Erik could watch her go on forever.

Erik looked around, finding Colin behind them. He raised his hands, his magical bracelet glowing with a brilliant light. “[Lesser Wind Blast]!” he shouted, unleashing a torrent of wind magic. The spell roared across the battlefield, scattering skeletal warriors like leaves in a storm. Their brittle bones slammed into the jagged walls of the cavern, shattering on impact.

It was a second-tier spell but luckily against these stupid beings, it was more than enough.

“Nice work, Colin!” Erik called out before narrowly dodging a from a skeletal knight.

He retaliated with a swift combination of strikes, his gauntlets blazing with fire. However, it just ate those punches. Its black armor and shield didn’t give in to the strikes.

A sword swoop came from above, Erik just rolled out of the way at the last moment—though he felt a sharp pain, followed by warmth on the side of his head. His gaze caught on blood leaking to the ground. He couldn’t let himself be hit anymore.

“[Inferno Strike]!” he shouted, channeling all his energy into a single devastating blow. His fist connected with the knight’s chest, and an explosion of fire engulfed it, disintegrating it in an instant.

Using that attack made Erik breathe heavily, holding his chest. A single-third spell spell used almost half his mana.

Well, it wasn’t like he had to fight much more anyway.

In the distance, Professor George and Helen faced the lich head-on.

“Focus on the barrier!” George ordered, his hands glowing with radiant energy. He unleashed a blinding ray of light that clashed against the lich’s green shield, causing it to crack and flicker.

Helen followed up with a barrage of fire magic, her flames roaring as they battered the barrier. Each explosion chipped away at the shield, the intense heat causing fissures to form.

“It’s weakening!” Helen shouted, sweat beading on her brows.

With the lich's barrier cracking open, Kyle seized the opportunity. He sprinted forward, his blade glowing as a layer of water formed around it. With a battle cry, he leaped into the air, his sword slashing downward in a brilliant arc. The water surged around the blade, striking the lich's hollow eye socket with immense force.

The lich let out a bone-chilling wail, its skeletal form writhing in agony. Kyle didn’t hesitate, roaring as well. He poured more magic into his blade, releasing a powerful water explosion that shattered what remained of the lich’s defenses. He somersaulted backward, landing nimbly as the lich’s staff fell from its bony grasp.

The Elder Lich convulsed, its form collapsing in on itself as its green glow dimmed and finally extinguished. Silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the sound of the remaining undead crumbling to dust.

Kyle sheathed his blade and turned to the group. “Is everyone alright?”

Erik grinned, his fists still smoldering. “Couldn’t be better.”

Professor George adjusted his glasses, surveying the room. “Excellent work, everyone. This was a victory well-earned.”

“So, this is when we find the hidden chamber and get the treasure?” Colin said with a grin.

Emilia chuckled. “Hopefully, and then we never come here again!” she said in a cheerful tone, raising her arm in the air.

Erik smiled at the pair. “Come on guys—”

That’s when a presence shut him down.

‘I… I can’t move…’ he couldn’t even tremble, it was as if time itself had stopped.

Everyone else had stopped moving and talking too, the victorious whispers completely died down, instead replaced by frozen expressions.

It was like that for a few completely, a completely oppressive aura overwhelmed them, keeping them down.

Moving meant death.

Through the corner of his eyes, Erik Could see smoldering darkness against the wall. It swirled before disappearing, leaving in its place a being that shouldn’t have been seen yet.

The air turned thick with the stench of rot, decaying flesh, and burnt ashes. The ground beneath their feet seemed to shudder with each passing moment. Erik could feel the weight of it pressing against his chest, a suffocating force that stilled even his breath.

Then, it moved from the darkness.

It was a figure. Its very form distorts the space around it. Towering, grotesque, and malformed, it rose like a nightmare made from flesh.

Its body was unnaturally long and thin, almost like a stick. Its greenish-gray skin cracked and pulsated with black veins. It moved like a twisted thing from nightmares—its insectoid legs clicked unnervingly as it scuttled forward, dragging its claws through the ground with a sound like scraping metal.

Erik’s heart pounded against his ribs, but his body refused to move as if the very sight of the creature had stolen his fate.

The creature’s head was an abomination. Elongated, with a skull that seemed to stretch unnaturally, its hollow eyes were twin pits of darkness, swirling with a red glow from within. It had no flesh. Its mouth was an unholy gash, jagged teeth eternally snapping, hungry for flesh.

It was a thing of pure malice, its gaze burning into Erik’s very soul, threatening to unravel him from within.

Its grotesque clawed hands twitched and curled with an unsettling grace. They gleamed with a slime that sizzled and hissed against the floor.

A sound, almost a soft hum came from the creature. It rippled and reverberated through the air. It was as if it didn’t even sense the group around it—or rather it didn’t sense them as a threat.

As the demon took another step, the ground beneath it shook, before turning it rotten flesh that wobbled and pulsed, seeming almost alive.

This thing was not just a monster—it was an omen. The suffocating aura it radiated was pulling at his very essence, leeching away his strength, and the very air seemed to turn putrid with its presence.

It walked up to the throne. The being gracefully sat on it, turning the jagged, old structure into a seat of writhing flesh.

Though it had no eyes, it seemed to peer at everyone below. It was like they were its subjects, or perhaps intruders awaiting to receive their punishment.

Then, the humming stopped. One of its elongated arms raised forth, pointing at Kyle.

“You did well against him,” it spoke with grace, and yet it felt guttural. It was the kind of voice that seemed to twist your insides, it wasn’t meant to be heard by human ears. “Let's play a game. Sacrifice your fellow humans and I’ll let you live,” its claws curled and straightened several times, pinching the very throne it created.

That’s when Erik realized something.

This was the kind of monster that was a threat to Draac itself. Mere students should have never crossed paths with it, and now they would suffer the consequences.