Zoe was thrown onto her back, the world spinning as stone and dust filled her vision. Instinct seized her before thought did — she rolled aside just in time for a massive black paw to crush the ground where her head had been. She tried to parry the next blow, but her stance faltered. Her legs trembled, her balance shot from being tossed around like a ragdoll.
She knew she couldn't keep this up. The next hit would break her. But she'd rather fall fighting than crawl away and watch her friends die. She had done that once before — when her village was overrun by demons. She'd hidden, listening to the screams, helpless.
Never again. She would not let Roderik happen again.
Zoe met the Howler's next swipe head-on, her arms shaking with the effort. Blow after blow crashed against her sword until her forearms were numb. The beast was relentless — a mountain of muscle and shadow, a humanoid bear easily twice her height. Each strike drove her back a step, pain lancing through her ribs and shoulders until she could barely breathe.
Taking a desperate gamble, Zoe feinted left and lunged forward. Her blade sank deep into one of the creature's eyes. The Howler shrieked, the sound splitting the air, making her eardrums ring until all sound dulled into a piercing hum. Stone cracked beneath the beast's rage as it flailed, gouging walls and floor alike with its claws.
Zoe's pulse pounded in her head as she staggered out of reach, half-blind from the ringing in her ears. Seizing another opening, she drove her sword between its ribs, feeling resistance before the weapon snapped in half. The broken steel stayed buried in the Howler's chest. The creature's breathing grew ragged, its movements heavier, but it was still far from finished.
A shadow passed across Zoe's vision — too late. The beast's paw connected squarely with her side, and the world went white. She crashed against a wall hard enough to see stars. When she tried to rise, her legs nearly gave out. The remains of her sword felt impossibly heavy in her trembling hand.
She moved to dodge again, but a sharp, burning pain flared in her chest. Her breath hitched. Blood filled her mouth, warm and metallic. Her body screamed at her to stop, to fall and let oblivion take her.
Her mind reeled. Her ribs were likely cracked. Her arms and legs throbbed with bruises, and her back burned from the impact. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, blurring one eye. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her upright — that and the sheer, furious will not to die here.
She tried to call for help, but no sound came. Her lips parted, and only silence escaped. The edges of her vision darkened. Her body was finished. Her spirit refused to be.
Then — voices. Soft, angry, insistent. They rose inside her, dozens of them, whispering, urging her onward. She didn't question them. She reached for them instinctively, as if she'd always known how. The air around her stirred, thick with energy — the breath of the spirits themselves.
Earth responded first. From the ground, jagged spines of stone shot upward, impaling the Howler and pinning its massive frame. Fire spirits followed, sending orbs of searing flame into its chest. Then wind and water joined in — invisible blades, liquid spears, all weaving through the air at Zoe's command. The cavern erupted into chaos, light and sound blending into a single wordless symphony of fury.
The Howler roared in agony. With sheer brute strength, it shattered the stone that held it, eyes blazing with hate. It charged, a black blur against the flickering light. Zoe tried to summon another wave of magic, but her body refused. Her mana was gone. Her strength was gone. She shut her eyes and braced herself for the end.
But death didn't come.
When she dared to open her eyes, Alec stood before her. His sword jutted through the back of the Howler's throat, its mouth frozen open mid-snarl. With a grunt, Alec shoved the corpse aside, chest heaving. His face was pale, his armor cracked, but he stood.
"Alec..." Zoe's voice came out weak, her vision swimming. The last thing she saw before collapsing was Alec, blood-splattered and unbroken, standing over the fallen beast like a phantom of vengeance.
Before Alec could turn toward her, Zua screamed, "Alec, behind you!"
He spun — just in time to see the demon strike. A flash of claws, black as midnight and glinting with firelight, came for him. Carter intercepted the blow with his sword. The impact was blinding — a flash, a burst of heat — and then Carter's blade went spinning into the dark.
The demon's laughter cut through the cavern, low and cruel. Carter staggered back, his left arm gone from the shoulder down, severed clean by the strike. He didn't cry out, didn't hesitate. He moved to shield Alec anyway, blood dripping in dark streaks down his armor.
"Bahaha! Pathetic!" the demon roared. "Humans always throw themselves under the blade for each other. The weak die — the strong devour the world! That is how it has always been, insects!"
It never noticed the shadow behind it. The Howler, mangled and aflame, had risen one last time. With a guttural roar, it lunged — its jaws clamping down not on the demon's torso but its arm. Bone cracked. The demon howled, ripping itself free, searing the creature with a wave of dark fire.
"Still clinging to life? Fine!" it spat, flinging a torrent of hellfire that engulfed the Howler. The beast burned like a pyre, roaring until its voice faded into a gurgling rasp. It staggered once, then swung its massive paw in one final act of defiance. The blow struck true, sending the demon careening through the dungeon's far gate. The doors slammed shut behind it with a sound like thunder.
Smoke hung in the air. The Howler — broken, burned, dying — turned its dull eyes on Alec and Carter.
They raised their weapons instinctively, preparing for another assault. Behind them, Galla's bow was drawn, Tanna knelt over Zoe and Zua, and Gimmel gripped his hammer tight, ready to move.
But the Howler didn't attack. It only sniffed the air, its voice a faint, rumbling growl. Then, slowly, it bowed its head toward Alec. A soft huff escaped its chest — not rage, but something like respect. Its massive form shimmered, cracked, and finally disintegrated into dust, scattering like ashes on the wind.
Silence settled over the cavern.
Then, somewhere deep within the dungeon, a door creaked open. Arrows of faint blue and crimson light appeared, pointing down a twisting corridor. They pulsed softly, beckoning.
It felt like the dungeon itself was begging them to go — pleading for help before it was too late.
Carter steadied his breathing, pale and shaking. "It's heading for the core," he rasped. "If it devours it..."
Alec nodded grimly, tightening his grip on his sword.
Then, without another word, they followed the lights into the depths — into the dungeon's living heart.
Carter's breathing came in ragged bursts as he pressed his remaining hand against the torn edge of his sleeve, blood still seeping through his fingers. The flickering light from their torches cast long, wavering shadows over the cavern floor, now littered with ash and scorched stone. Alec caught him before he could stumble, his expression tight with worry.
"Save your strength," Alec murmured. "We're not done yet."
Carter managed a weak, humorless laugh. "Didn't plan to be. Not while that thing's still breathing."
Behind them, Zoe stirred, her face pale, eyes half-open as Tanna tried to coax her awake. Zua knelt nearby, tending to her with trembling hands. The battle had taken everything from them — mana, blood, and willpower — yet somehow, they were still standing.
The air shifted, a low hum reverberating through the stone beneath their feet. Alec frowned. "Do you feel that?"
Gimmel nodded grimly. "Aye. The dungeon's... angry."
The glowing arrows pulsed brighter, faster now, the red and blue light spilling over the walls like veins of living magic. Somewhere far below, something roared — not the cry of the demon, but something deeper, ancient. The dungeon trembled in response, dust sifting down from the ceiling.
"The core," Carter said again, his voice faint but sure. "It's calling for us... or warning us."
Alec looked toward the twisting corridor ahead. The path seemed endless, the air itself heavy with the dungeon's fear. He tightened his grip on his sword, the faint shimmer of mana flickering along its edge.
"Then we answer," he said quietly. "Before that thing eats its heart."
They exchanged no further words. Only weary glances, shared resolve, and the echo of boots on stone as they stepped into the narrow passage, leaving behind the ashes of the fallen Howler and the fading warmth of their brief, impossible victory.