The snow had finally stopped. For the first time in weeks, the skies above Sanctum offered a moment of calm. But beneath that calm, something massive stirred—a convergence of preparation, tension, and imminent war.
The Dungeon Tower loomed on the northern horizon like an obsidian tooth, its sheer scale larger than any had dared imagine. This was not just a dungeon run. This was a full-scale campaign.
Kael stood silently on the northern wall, his undead tyrants flanking him like three shadows in armor. Their auras had grown heavier since their third evolution—Warlords in their own right. Kael's voice broke the silence only once, as Rael appeared beside him.
"You came to see me off?"
Rael smiled, brushing snow off his pauldrons. "You're coming back. So yes… but also because I couldn't not."
He didn't respond right away. Then: "If we both make it out of this... no more waiting."
She nodded, and for the first time in days, he saw the faintest blush on her cheeks. Kael's cold exterior cracked just enough to meet it.
Elsewhere in Sanctum's strategy chamber, Nyra stood beside Iden, both observing the final war-table configurations. She had been quieter lately—not withdrawn, just more focused. As they reviewed the Dungeon Strike Plans, she finally spoke.
"We don't have time for regrets in there. So if anything happens to me—"
"Stop," Iden said. "You're coming back. That's not negotiable."
They shared a moment of silence before she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Then don't get yourself killed, Commander."
Deep within the Research Core, Arlen made his final adjustments. His new prototype wasn't like the mana rifles or tech-launchers from before.
This was adaptive warfare.
The weapon was modular, rapid-feed, and could sync with skeleton mages for multi-channel casting. He called it the Stormcage—a hybrid electro-arc rifle that used localized mana reactions to create pulse disruptions in corrupted zones.
"This one," he muttered to himself, "is for the bastards that broke our lines."
He delivered it personally to the strike team, placing one in Kael's hands. "Give it hell."
Before the portal to the Dungeon Tower opened, Iden accessed the Raid Point Store for final purchases. Amid the usual cores, blueprints, and tactical upgrades, one item gleamed with faint golden etchings:
[Familiar Contract: Celestial-Tier Variant]Summons a unique Familiar from across dimensions. Bound permanently. Can level and evolve alongside the Master.Cost: 120,000 RP
He didn't hesitate.
[Purchase Confirmed.][Familiar Contract Added to Inventory.][Use now?]
Iden stared at it for a beat. "Not yet," he whispered. "Not until I see what's waiting in there."
Sanctum's army began to move.
Over a million summons—1,376,256, now fully doubled to 2,752,512—stood ready. Each category of skeleton, from the mage legions to tank battalions, had been streamlined through layered command networks, and Iden's Throne of the Ninefold Legion pulsed with raw synchronization power.
The Dungeon Tower's gate cracked open with an earth-rattling groan. A deep, ancient fog spilled out.
Inside, the corruption festered. Floors would shift. Walls would bleed. Gravity would invert. And far beneath the final level… something older than Tzakaroth waited.
Iden gave the order. "March."