The junction smelled like a slaughterhouse.
The air was thick with the copper tang of blood—human and monster mixed together—and the sulfurous rot of the Gnoll Warlord.
Ren stood beside Grog, his sword drawn. His side was screaming in agony where the Broodmother had pinned him, but the adrenaline was keeping him upright. He looked at the Warlord, then at the ocean of yellow eyes glowing in the darkness behind it.
"That's a lot of dogs," Ren muttered, tightening his grip on his hilt.
"They aren't dogs," Grog spat, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth. "They're pests."
The Guild Master unhooked the massive battleaxe from his back. It was a wicked thing—double-headed, etched with runes that pulsed a faint, angry red.
"Listen up, hero," Grog grunted, not looking at Ren. "The big ugly bastard is mine. I don't need a babysitter, and I definitely don't need you stealing my kill credit. You and your little friends handle the trash mobs. Keep them off my back."
Ren looked at the Warlord. It wasn't just a normal Mutant. A zone boss. Grog was arrogant, but he was also the only one here with the raw stats to tank a hit from that cleaver without exploding.
"Understood," Ren said. He turned to his squad. "Formation! Circle up around Reiji and Mei! Don't let the pack break the line!"
"On it!" Daigo shouted. The Vanguard had discarded his crumpled tower shield. In his hands, he now held a heavy iron heater shield he had scavenged from one of the dead mercenaries. It was scratched and bloody, but it was solid.
"Rika, stay mobile!" Ren ordered. "Itsuki, crowd control!"
"Go!" Grog roared.
The Guild Master launched himself forward. For a man of his size, he moved with terrifying speed. The ground cracked under his boots as he closed the distance to the Warlord in a heartbeat.
The Warlord snarled, swinging its rusted cleaver.
CLANG.
Metal met metal. Sparks showered the cavern like fireworks. Grog caught the cleaver with the haft of his axe, gritted his teeth, and shoved. The Warlord, outweighing him by three hundred pounds, actually stumbled back.
"Is that all you got?!" Grog laughed, spinning his axe for a follow-up strike.
The battle had begun.
"They're coming!" Itsuki yelled.
The Warlord's pack—the dozens of Shadow Hyenas that had been waiting in the wings—surged forward. They ignored Grog, flowing around the duel like a black river, aiming straight for the students.
"Die! Die! Die!" Rika was a blur of motion. She wasn't hiding anymore. She was weaving through the front line, her daggers flashing. She slit a throat, ducked under a snapping jaw, and kicked another hyena in the snout.
Ren was in the thick of it.
A hyena lunged for his injured side.
[PASSIVE: DIVINE REFLEX]
Ren didn't even think. His body simply... adjusted. He pivoted on his heel, letting the beast sail past him. As it passed, he brought his sword down in a clean arc.
SHUNK.
The hyena hit the floor in two pieces.
I can see it, Ren realized, his breathing steady despite the chaos. I can see the flow.
The new skill wasn't making him faster. It was making him efficient. He wasn't wasting movement. Every step had a purpose. He was dancing through the carnage, conserving his stamina while the monsters tired themselves out.
"Left side!" Daigo roared, bashing a hyena with his scavenged shield. "Ren, switch!"
Ren spun, swapping places with Daigo to cover the Vanguard's blind spot. They moved as a unit. They were bruised, bloody, and exhausted, but they weren't breaking.
But in the center of the room, the duel of the titans was reaching a breaking point.
Grog was winning.
The Guild Master was a whirlwind of violence. He had slashed the Warlord's chest, opening a deep gash in the Goblin Iron armor. He had battered the monster's knees.
"You're slow!" Grog taunted, ducking under a clumsy swing of the cleaver. He buried his axe into the Warlord's shoulder.
The Warlord roared in pain, dropping to one knee.
"End of the line, Fido," Grog grinned. He placed a boot on the Warlord's chest and yanked his axe free, blood spraying over his face. He raised the weapon for a killing blow. "Any last words?"
The Warlord looked up. Its yellow eyes weren't filled with fear. They were filled with hate. Intelligent, burning hate.
It didn't speak to Grog. It threw its head back and let out a sound that wasn't a roar. It was a command.
AWOOOOOOOOOO!
The battlefield shifted instantly.
Every single Shadow Hyena—the ones fighting Ren, the ones fighting Daigo, the ones circling Itsuki—stopped.
They turned their heads toward the center of the room.
"Ren!" Rika screamed. "They're turning!"
"Grog! Watch out!" Ren yelled.
It was too late.
The pack abandoned the students. Fifty hyenas launched themselves at the Guild Master.
"What the—?" Grog spun around, but he was swarmed.
They bit his legs. They bit his arms. They piled onto his back. Grog roared, swinging his axe wildly, turning hyenas into red mist, but there were too many.
"Get off me! Get off!" Grog bellowed.
A hyena latched onto his forearm—the unprotected skin between his gauntlet and his elbow. It bit down hard.
CRUNCH.
"Damn it!" Grog smashed the beast's skull, but the damage was done. Black veins instantly began to spread from the bite mark. Neurotoxin.
Grog stumbled. His arm went numb. He dropped his axe.
The Warlord stood up. It wiped the blood from its shoulder. It looked at the staggering Guild Master, who was frantically trying to shake off the remaining hyenas.
"You..." the Warlord growled, its voice wet and guttural.
Grog looked up, his vision blurring. "You cheating piece of shit..."
The Warlord kicked him.
It was a telegraphed, brutal front kick. It caught Grog square in the chest.
CRACK.
Grog's breastplate caved in. The massive man was launched backward. He flew past Ren, past Daigo, and slammed into the stone wall with a bone-shattering thud. He slid down, coughing up black blood.
The Warlord laughed.
It was a horrible, hacking sound. It gestured to the pack, and the hyenas backed away, forming a circle of death around the fallen Guild Master.
The Warlord limped over to Grog. It loomed over him, blotting out the light.
"You kill... my kin," the Warlord snarled, raising the rusted cleaver. "You think... I forgive?"
Grog tried to lift his arm, but the poison had paralyzed him. He stared up at the blade. For the first time, the arrogance was gone. He looked like a scared old man.
"Shit," Grog wheezed.
The cleaver came down.
"DAIGO!" Ren screamed.
Ren didn't need to tell him what to do. Daigo was already moving.
The Vanguard sprinted. He didn't have [Iron Skin] active. He didn't have a plan. He just had instinct.
Daigo slid between Grog and the Warlord. He raised the scavenged iron shield.
But he didn't brace. He didn't plant his feet.
Don't be a wall, Daigo told himself, watching the massive blade descend. Be a door.
The cleaver hit the shield.
Normally, the force would have crushed Daigo's arm. But Daigo didn't catch it flat. He tilted the shield at a sharp forty-five-degree angle and stepped into the swing.
CLANG-SCREEEEEE.
The cleaver didn't stop; it slid. It scraped off the angled metal, sparks flying, and slammed harmlessly into the ground beside Daigo.
The Warlord, expecting resistance, overextended. It stumbled forward, its chest exposed.
[SKILL UNLOCKED: KINETIC PAYBACK]
Daigo's shield glowed with a furious orange light. It had absorbed the friction, the weight, the anger of the blow.
"GET BACK!" Daigo roared.
He slammed the shield rim upward, directly into the Warlord's jaw.
BOOM.
It sounded like a cannon shot. The Warlord's head snapped back. Teeth flew into the air. The massive monster was lifted off its feet and knocked onto its back.
"Now!" Daigo screamed, his arm numb but his spirit burning. "Ren! Rika!"
"On it!" Rika yelled.
She didn't run at the monster. She ran at the wall.
She scrambled up the vertical stone, kicked off, and somersaulted through the air. She landed squarely on the Warlord's chest before it could stand up.
"Sit down!" Rika hissed.
She drove both daggers into the Warlord's shoulders—right into the trapezius muscles controlling its arms.
[Skill: Shadow Stitch]
The Warlord roared, trying to lift its arms to grab her, but its muscles failed. The tendons were severed. It was paralyzed.
"Ren!" Rika shouted, rolling off the monster.
Ren was already in the air.
He had used Daigo's back as a step-ladder. He vaulted high, his sword gripped in both hands, the golden light of [Divine Guidance] burning in his eyes.
He saw the line. It pointed to the throat. Between the plates of Goblin Iron.
"GRAAAAH!"
Ren plunged the sword downward.
SHUNK.
The blade sank deep. It severed the windpipe. It severed the spine. It pinned the Warlord to the cavern floor.
The monster thrashed once. Twice. Then, the yellow light faded from its eyes.
The Warlord was dead.
The cavern went silent.
The remaining hyenas—leaderless and confused—looked at the dead Alpha. Then they looked at the students standing over the corpse.
"Get out," Ren growled, pulling his sword from the corpse. He was covered in black blood, his eyes wild. "Or you're next."
The pack broke. With whimpers of terror, they turned and fled into the darkness of the West Tunnel, scrambling over each other to escape.
"We... we did it," Itsuki whispered, leaning heavily on his staff.
Ren didn't celebrate. He sheathed his sword and spun around.
"Status report!" Ren barked.
Two of Grog's surviving guildmates—men who had fought beside Ren's squad against the pack—were already kneeling beside the fallen Guild Master.
"Boss! Stay with us!" one of the mercenaries shouted, slapping Grog's cheek.
Grog was slumped against the stone wall. His skin was turning a sickly shade of grey, and purple veins were pulsing violently in his neck. He was breathing in shallow, rattling gasps, black foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth.
"Poison..." Grog wheezed, his eyes losing focus. "Hyena... venom... nasty stuff."
"He needs an antidote!" the mercenary yelled, looking at Ren with panic. "We don't have any! The healer was supposed to be at the camp!"
Ren looked past them. Leaning against a shattered rock was Reiji.
The Paladin was awake, but barely. His chest plate was caved in where the Warlord had punched him. He was clutching his side, coughing up bright red blood with every breath. His face was pale, slick with sweat.
"Ren..." Reiji rasped, trying to stand but failing.
Ren rushed over, kneeling beside him. "Reiji, don't move. You have internal bleeding."
"The others..." Reiji gripped Ren's arm, his grip weak. "Mei... Toru... Hinata..."
Ren looked around the empty junction. "They aren't here, Reiji. Where are they?"
"I sent them... West," Reiji coughed, wincing in pain. "To hide. They... they ran into the tunnels."
Ren's blood ran cold. He looked at the West Tunnel—the same tunnel the surviving pack of hyenas had just fled into.
"They're in the den," Ren whispered.
"We have to... get them," Reiji tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out.
"No," Ren pushed him back down gently. "If we go West now, you and Grog die. We can't fight an army while carrying two critical patients."
Ren stood up, making the hardest decision of his life.
"We go to the entrance," Ren announced, his voice tight. "We get Ayaka. She stabilizes Grog and Reiji. Then... we go back for the others."
"But—" Reiji started.
"We don't have a choice!" Ren snapped, though his eyes were full of regret. He turned to Daigo. "Daigo, carry Grog. You're the only one strong enough."
Daigo nodded grimly. He hoisted the massive, dying Guild Master onto his shoulder. Grog groaned but didn't protest.
"You two," Ren pointed at the surviving mercenaries. "Carry Reiji. Careful with his ribs."
The mercenaries didn't argue. They lifted the broken Paladin between them.
"Rika, take point," Ren ordered. "Itsuki, rear guard. Move."
They began the march toward the East Tunnel—the exit.
It was a somber procession. They were victorious, but they felt like they were retreating. Reiji watched the West Tunnel fade into the darkness as they carried him away, his eyes full of worry for the friends he was leaving behind.