Living Sword’s Fragment.

  Its passive skill, Soul-Tempered Edge, made Hebert’s blade feel alive, an ever-hungry thing that grew sharper with every strike. Each hit fed the weapon, stacking more power, more bite, more lethality. But the true nightmare was its active skill: Swordseer Gaze.

  That grotesque eye near the hilt wasn’t decoration. It watched. It followed movement with unsettling precision, granting each slash increased accuracy and a ridiculous critical rate.

  And even that wasn’t the worst part.

  Vwoom!

  A deep vibration rolled through the chamber as the eye snapped fully open. It flushed a violent red, veins bulging like it was seconds from bursting. The silver blade turned smoky gray… then bled into pitch-black metal, as if ink filled every vein of its structure. Soul-Tempered Edge had reached maximum charge.

  Before I could even exhale, Hebert drove the blackened blade into the Anchor Lizard. Each blow stunned it, freezing the creature before the next strike landed. It collapsed within seconds, before the rest of us had even processed what had happened.

  “He… he’s terrifyingly strong,” Ivvan breathed.

  Muradin bristled. Pride wouldn’t let him be outshone so easily. With a grunt, he smashed another Lizard apart with a hammer swing that cracked the air.

  Cling! Cling! Cling!

  Sharp chimes echoed across the chamber as the hole at the far end sealed shut. Five crystal-shaped symbols lit up on the wall in a neat row, marking the countdown to the next wave.

  The first wave fell quickly. Muradin held the enemies at bay, while Hebert cut down those that slipped past him.

  I glanced at Marcy, who hadn’t moved an inch the entire time. Either she trusted the frontliners completely… or she was deliberately hiding her strength.

  She strode toward the scattered loot, unhurried. I rushed after her.

  The ground was littered with shining items. Stones, scraps, rare materials scattered like spilled treasure. This was why Dimensional Fractures were never skipped. More Mana Stones, better loot, and higher rarity drops. Pure profit.

  Then my stomach twisted.

  Half-buried between the piles, Marcy picked up an Impulse’s Soul Fragment.

  Even at an increased drop rate, Soul Fragments appearing in the first wave were absurdly rare.

  Had I known… I would’ve fought harder for first pick. That would’ve been a huge upgrade for Darwyn.

  “No fucking way, please tell me that’s what I think it is!” Abbot yelled as he sprinted over, grinning from ear to ear, an expression so genuine it threw me off. “Gimme that!”

  Marcy tossed it casually. Abbot caught it and looked at it with a disbelieving stare.

  “Oh hell yes! I’ve been aiming for this forever!” He popped it straight into his mouth.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Darwyn bit his lip before quietly picking up an Eelskin Strip.

  So he knows. Of course he knows.

  We continued sorting loot as agreed, both teams alternating picks. Soon only Mana Stones and two Healing Orbs remained.

  “Here, take this.” Darwyn tossed Soft Snail Meat toward Ivvan, who had been hovering awkwardly at the edge.

  “Seriously?! Thank you, Darwyn!” Ivvan brightened instantly.

  Meanwhile, Muradin scooped up two Healing Orbs, each one glowing softly green, before they dissolved into his skin. Some monsters dropped those as compensation for the Nullification Aura, providing much-needed restorative effects.

  “Hurry up, only two left,” Abbot called out, nodding toward the countdown wall. Two crystals remained.

  We grabbed the remaining Mana Stones, split them, and rushed back to our starting spots.

  “W-wait, what happens if we don’t return in time?” Ivvan squeaked.

  “You don’t want to find out,” Darwyn replied without slowing.

  One crystal left.

  It faded.

  The sealed hole slid open.

  Wave two began.

  ***

  A cloud of Night Flyers burst out first, followed by a swarm of Evil Needles, both were tiny airborne insect monsters common in the Northern Glades. Each was no bigger than a clenched fist, but their speed made them deadly.

  They swarmed Muradin, stabbing wildly with needle-like stingers jutting from both their mouths and tails.

  Metal rang like machine-gun fire as he blocked them with his shield, swinging desperately to keep them off.

  [Shield Bash cast]

  He slammed his shield forward, hitting nothing but air. The monsters swerved aside effortlessly, some darting past him and streaking toward Hebert.

  “I’ve got them!” Ivvan said, casting his area-slow spell.

  A sheer gray film drifted through the air like a floating curtain, settling over the nearest flyers. They slowed… barely. Just enough to notice if you squinted.

  Muradin’s next swing missed by a mile.

  “That’s why I can’t trust humans,” Muradin grumbled.

  I fired from the back, but the flyers twisted, dipped, and spiraled out of every trajectory. They were a nightmare to aim at.

  More and more monsters poured out: Fire Flyers, Mind Flyers, and other buzzing horrors.

  “What are you doing?!” Muradin barked when Hebert’s wild slash nearly took his beard off.

  “What does it look like? I’m trying to kill them!” Hebert snapped, swinging blindly. “These flying bastards are pissing me off!”

  With Swordseer Gaze still unusable, his attacks couldn’t land a clean hit.

  “By the beards, CALM DOWN!” Muradin shoved Hebert’s sword aside with his shield.

  Hebert snarled and deliberately scraped his blade across Muradin’s side.

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  That was the breaking point.

  The two broke into a full-on brawl amid the chaos, trading blows while some monsters zipped past them and streaked toward Marcy.

  “Oi! You shrimp-brained idiots!” Abbot yelled, exasperated. “Monsters are slipping through!”

  The blonde archer shot a glance toward Marcy, then sighed in resignation. With no choice, he activated his skill.

  He drew back his bowstring. Frost gathered on the arrowtips, glowing pale blue.

  With a sharp release, a flurry of arrows shot into the sky, spinning like shards of frozen glass. They arced overhead, glowing blue, before crashing downward in a glittering rain of ice.

  The air flashed cold.

  Arrows cracked on impact, spraying frost. Flyers froze mid-air and crashed. Others staggered, wings stiff with ice. A sheet of frost spread across the ground, gleaming under the pale glow of the falling arrows.

  Glacial Storm. That skill came from a floor-two monster, a notoriously tough one to bring down.

  No wonder Abbot had lost his mind over Impulse’s Fragment. It boosted this ability like crazy.

  Does he have another Fragment? If so… I can’t even imagine how strong he really is.

  I shook the thought aside and resumed firing. Marcy punched down anything that got near her. Ivvan tossed Fireballs, just as underwhelming as his slow spell, while Darwyn fired arrows nonstop.

  After a few more bursts of Glacial Storm, the infuriating second wave finally ended.

  No Soul Fragment dropped this time. We had to settle for Night Flyer’s Eye as our first pick.

  “To think we’re splitting rewards evenly with such a useless team,” Abbot said loudly as he snatched up the Duskwind Essence. “Second wave, and you still can’t do anything without me.”

  “Say that again,” Muradin growled, tightening his grip on his hammer.

  “Or what?” Abbot tilted his head, smiling like he wanted him to try. “Going to swing it at me? You can’t even hit the monsters.”

  Muradin’s face flushed, jaw working, but nothing came out.

  “We still have a long fight ahead,” Darwyn said, trying to defuse the tension. “Why don’t we save our energy for that? You can rest on the next wave if you want. We’ll handle it.”

  “Whatever,” Abbot muttered, waving dismissively as he returned to his spot, shoving past Ivvan without a glance. “Just clean up the damn stones.”

  Ivvan steadied himself, but no one spoke up. No one stopped Abbot. Everyone knew he’d done the most work.

  The group continued gathering the loot, the air thick with tension.

  “C-Can I… have some stones?” Ivvan asked timidly, eyeing the pile of Mana Stones.

  “Is there something wrong with you?” Hebert shot him a scornful glare. “We carried your sorry ass, and now you’re asking for a share?” He spat on the ground.

  Ivvan shrank back, shoulders hunching. “R-Right… sorry…”

  I didn’t like agreeing with Hebert, but… he wasn’t wrong. Those who didn’t contribute don’t deserve a share.

  We gathered the scattered Mana Stones as quickly as we could. The countdown wall dimmed. Three crystals left, then two.

  One by one, we returned to our positions. Ivvan nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled into place.

  A heavy silence settled over the chamber. Even Abbot stopped running his mouth as the second symbol blinked out.

  One left.

  I swallowed, pulse skittering. Whatever was coming… it was almost here.

  The final crystal flickered… dimmed… and vanished.

  A deep, guttural tremor rolled through the walls. The opening didn’t slide apart this time, something forced it wider, stone groaning as jagged cracks split outward like a mouth trying to tear itself free.

  “Uh… Darwyn?” Ivvan’s voice cracked. “Does the hole normally get… bigger?”

  “No.” Darwyn’s answer came instantly.

  A scraping noise followed, multiple limbs dragging across stone in an unnerving rhythm. Click. Click. Click. Each tap burrowed straight into my skull, prickling the back of my neck.

  Muradin lifted his shield. “Sounds huge.”

  “Sounds pissed,” Hebert added.

  The scraping quickened.

  Then the creature emerged.

  I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

  A lean, wolf-like beast dragged itself into the chamber. Three heads rose from a single body, each bearing its own nightmare set of teeth: long predatory fangs, serrated blade-teeth, and splintered shearing jaws made to snap bone like twigs. Matte-black fur cloaked its frame, rippling like an oil slick beneath the chamber’s pale light.

  “Shit…” I breathed. I didn’t expect a monster like this to show up on wave three.

  “Is that a Cerberian?” Muradin asked.

  “No,” Marcy cut in, her expression hard. “Look closer.”

  Now that it stood in the open, the differences were obvious. Bigger. Bulkier. Muscles shifting beneath fur glowing faintly blue at the roots. A cold, ghostlike fog drifted from all three mouths with every breath.

  A rare variant. Far stronger.

  A Glacius Cerberian.

  Ivvan’s voice trembled. “This… might get bad.”

  “That depends,” Darwyn murmured, drawing an arrow as his bowstring creaked. “On whether we work together… or tear each other apart.”

  The beast threw back its three heads and unleashed a bone-rattling roar.

  It wasn’t just noise. The sound hit like a physical force, stripping away our defenses. My knees buckled.

  Cerberal Cataclysm. Its signature move.

  Darwyn moved first. An arrow streaked across the room trailing smoke, punching into the rightmost head. Another shot followed immediately.

  The Cerberian reacted with terrifying speed. The middle head opened wide and exhaled a swirling cone of frost, scattering the incoming arrows before charging straight at Muradin.

  Two heads lunged in unison, snapping with brutal force.

  Muradin braced himself. His shield caught one bite with a thunderous clang, while the hammer in his left hand smashed the second head aside. The impact shook the air.

  But before he could even draw a breath, a huge claw raked across the left side of his body, piercing his armor.

  [Rejuvenation cast]

  My healing spell wrapped around him, the soft green glow struggling to keep up with the damage.

  Too bad I couldn’t use the Flameburst Flask, thanks to the damn Nullification Aura.

  Even worse, the monster stayed just outside Hebert’s attack range, leaving him unable to join in.

  One head shot forward, aiming to tear Muradin’s head from his shoulders…

  A crackling Lightning Bolt from Darwyn’s stunned the creature long enough for Muradin to wrench free.

  Ivvan hurled a Fireball. The blast washed over the monster in a bloom of flame… and the Cerberian barely acknowledged it.

  “Please! A little help here!” Ivvan shouted at Abbot.

  Abbot didn’t move. “They were the ones bragging they could handle this wave without me,” he said coldly. “Let’s see how long the dwarf lasts.”

  Considering how drastically his defenses had been reduced, the fact that Muradin was still standing was nothing short of extraordinary. His entire left side looked mangled, armor torn and frost biting deep into the exposed patches of skin. His shield was dented and punctured in several places, and even his beard had turned stiff with ice.

  I raised my Fangbone Scepter, wind gathering at its tip.

  [Wind Cutter cast]

  A razor-thin arc of compressed air slashed at the leftmost head. Still too weak. It barely flinched.

  “Wow, amazing!” Abbot shouted with a mocking tone. “Your damage must be so impressive.”

  I ignored him and cast another Wind Cutter, pushing Mana hard enough that my fingers tingled.

  “Darwyn! Help me take the left head first!” I shouted.

  He didn’t respond verbally, but an arrow immediately flew, punching straight through the left head’s jaw.

  And for the first time, the Cerberian faltered.

  Its leftmost head reeled back, forced to defend itself, giving Muradin a moment, a tiny sliver of breathing room.

  I kept pumping Rejuvenation into him on cooldown, weaving Wind Cutter in every gap, heart hammering every time Muradin swayed.

  Things were finally shifting in our favor…

  Until the left head darted low, too fast. Its teeth clamped around Muradin’s leg.

  “NO!” I screamed in panic, unleashing my attack, but it was useless. The Cerberian jerked its head upward in a vicious snap.

  Muradin was ripped off the ground, screaming as he dangled upside down, armor buckling under the pressure. Frost crawled across his exposed skin.

  “Muradin!” I shouted, but my voice felt small, swallowed by the chaos.

  The middle head exhaled a freezing torrent.

  In a single breath, Muradin’s scream cut off, his body encased in brittle frost from the waist up.

  Then, with chilling ease, the monster swung its neck and hurled him like garbage.

  Muradin slammed into the invisible barrier with a crack that echoed across the chamber before collapsing onto the floor in a heap. His leg was crushed, bone jutting at a sickening angle, and he didn’t move.

  The Cerberian slowly pivoted, all three heads lowering as its icy breath misted across the floor.

  Then it charged.

  other team: emotionally devastating. Thanks for suffering with us.

  MILESTONES

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