Part Seventy-Seven

Checking the crater confirmed it: the Wyvern was dead. Its corpse had already dissolved into light. But I hadn’t a clue who launched that attack. Those flames had appeared magical in nature, but I didn’t know of anyone else who could use magic. Unless…

There couldn’t be yet another otherworlder here, could there?

Hunk-lite was probing the portal's wreckage, checking for any loot he could find. Since looking at the crater wasn’t doing me anything, I decided to join him.

“Hm? What’s this?”

A few minutes into looking, I found the remains of a Mivian after overturning a large piece of rubble. The monster wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the necklaces and other jewelry it wore.

“I wouldn’t bother with that. Any jewelry you take from monsters in a Dungeon will just disappear after you clear it.”

Uh-huh. Then why were you gathering it yourself? I’ll just slip this into my bag and check it out later. I’d love some low-risk, high-reward loot. It won’t cost me anything even if it does disappear. Besides, these gems are kind of pretty.

A few more minutes of searching turned up absolutely nothing else. Hunk-lite started to walk away, but I stopped him before he got too far. I might have agreed to keep quiet for him, but I still wanted answers.

“Do you really think I’m just going to let you walk away after that? You’re way too suspicious to leave to your own devices. For all I know, you were working with Finnél the whole time.”

“With that arrogant turd? Not in this, or the next, lifetime. I can’t stand Etralyphians, they’ve all got their heads so far up their rears that it comes back around."

Well isn’t that an image? Hm, Etralyphians? Must be the name of Finnél’s race. Interesting.

“Well then, why are you here? Unless you’re trying to screw us over, I don’t see much reason for you to be here.”

“…Haaah. It’s cause the monsters are weaker here.”

What? Weaker? The beasts that had savaged multiple countries, destroyed countless cities, and killed millions? How could they be weaker?

“Start talking, now.”

“Guh, fine. Your world’s mana density is stupidly low, to the point where no one here even knew there was mana, right? Well, monsters thrive on mana. It’s intrinsically bound to their very being. They’ll weaken in worlds with low mana densities. Though that only lasts for a time. That’s the reason I’m here.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Do you mean the monsters will get stronger?”

He nodded, sending a rush of panic through me. Humanity was already in a precarious position. If the monsters got too strong, they could completely exterminate us.

“Oh, I should mention that this’ll take a while. Like, years at least. And Dungeons are removed from the effects of that phenomenon. The monsters inside aren’t affected by the dimension's mana density. They’re already at their peak strength.”

Okay, that’s better. Then we have some time.

“Are you satisfied now? I’d like to go maintenance my guns.”

“One more thing. If only non-Dungeon monsters are weakened, then why did you come into this Dungeon?”

“Simple. Money. I was running low on supplies, and running back home would take too long, so I took this job. If I’d known the Dungeon was gonna be like this, I’d have just gone home.”

He turned and walked away from me, clearly fed up with my questions. I decided to let him go for now since he had answered everything, but someone would need to know about him. Alicia and Cameron at minimum.

I headed back to where the others were. The last few handfuls of monsters had all been disposed of by the time I’d gotten there, and the mercenaries were dispersing. I didn’t see Alicia amongst those still gathered, but I did see Braddock. The veteran was resting over by the central tower, slumped against the building. It was an odd sight since he was usually quite active about leading everyone. He wasn’t one to just sit by and let things come as they would.

Odd. He looks tired. More than just physically tired at that. He actually looks ill. Hm, did something happen?

“Michael, there you are. I was worried you’d run into something dangerous when you didn’t come back. So what happened?”

“Well, the Wyvern's dead, so that’s something.”

“Heheh, got another one? Can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve been on top of this ever since we got here.”

“Uh, no. It’s dead, but I didn’t kill it. I’d be a lot more excited if I had. I don’t actually know who killed it.”

I then proceeded to describe the events that had transpired. Meeting Hunk-lite, fighting our way to the Wyvern, his origin and weaponry, and finally, the mysterious bolt of fire that killed the Mid-boss. By the time I was done, Braddock looked completely flummoxed.

“Haaah, so there was another one. What to do about him?”

“I’d just leave him. He’s actually been helping us quite a bit. It would be a shame to needlessly antagonize him now. Dude's got some serious firepower.”

“I’m not a fan of it, but we might not have much of a choice right now. He’s certainly helped us out, so I’ll defer to your judgment for now. Though I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Guy’s definitely got something to hide, aside from being an otherworlder. Gods, that sounds so weird. Stupid apocalypse.”

The two of us exchanged weary glances, both of us equally fed-up with the state of the world. It was then that the System decided to pop-up out of nowhere.

*Ka-clunk*

::The Monster Army has been demoralized by the death of one of its leaders, causing strife among those remaining. A portion of the Army has thus turned feral, further impacting the Army’s cohesion and causing internal conflicts and casualties.

Dungeon Scenario Update:

Remaining Challengers: 777.

Mid-bosses remaining: 1 of 3.

Monster Army Remaining: 54.3%

Time until escape is possible: 1 Day 02 Hours 21 Minutes.

The Dungeon Boss will arrive one day after all Mid-bosses and 90% of the Monster Army are killed.::

Never going to get used to that sound. Also, seven hundred and seventy-seven exactly? Is that a coincidence, or did something do something to purposely do that? Cause if they did, then why?

“Mn, we’re halfway there. Though how much will it cost us to finish this?”

“Well, if we kill the Void Wolf, that should get us below fifty percent. And the next major battle promises to have many more targets to kill. I think we’re doing pretty good right now. Far better than I thought we’d be.”

“You’re more optimistic than I’d thought you’d be.”

“Well we’ve gotten this far. Why wouldn’t we be able to finish this? And if worst comes to worst, we could always try to escape, though I don’t know how we’d do that. The NPCs have yet to enlighten us about that particular mechanic. By the way, where’s Alicia? Didn’t she make it here earlier?”

“Mm, well, you see….”

***

[Braddock’s POV]

Ah, there he goes.

Michael hadn’t even waited for him to finish before running off. The boy had an impulsive streak a mile wide. Though his concern was somewhat misplaced. There wasn’t really a reason for him to have run off like that. Maybe Alicia would appreciate it somewhat. That thought buoyed his spirits for a bit. He needed that after the back-to-back bad news he’d just gotten.

First he’d learned that Eileen had been found torn asunder. After the monsters in the plaza were dealt with, they’d spread out to look for any stragglers, when someone had stumbled upon her. Her entire body had been ripped apart, and they’d only known that it was her due to the fact that her head had been deliberately left alone and placed in front of the scraps that had been her body.

Then he’d learned that the prisoners had been killed. While not really tragic in in of itself, the fact was that no monsters had entered the central building. A mercenary or NPC had done this.

These two things, and the fact that those he’d been fighting with were becoming increasingly disgruntled, wore at his psyche. He knew he was becoming stressed, but he couldn’t really do anything about it. He’d just have to keep working, and hope it didn’t all fall down around him.

***

I crashed through the doors to the infirmary and stopped dead in my tracks. The stench of burnt flesh was overpowering, so much so that I nearly threw up. Over a dozen people were in beds, each of them covered in horrible burns and bandages. It was nearly impossible to tell who was who.

This is the work of the Wyvern, isn’t it? Goddammit, where’s Alicia? She’s, she’s not in a bed, is she?

“Michael? When did you get here.”

She wasn’t. She was in fact behind me the whole time. Or off to the side really. I gave her a quick once-over, and aside from some singed hair and armor, she appeared fine. Which was an immense relief.

“Just now. Braddock told me you went to the infirmary, but it looks like I rushed over here for nothing.”

“Didn’t let him finish, did you?”

How does she know!?

What apparently happened was that Alicia, along with Brad’s group, had fought and killed all the Young Mountain Rocs. She’d even managed to get a few hits in in the Wyvern as well, earning its ire. She’d noticed that it was preparing a magic attack, and had thus fired one of her specially made arrows to foul its aim, though she hadn’t expected just how widespread the spell would be.

While they’d avoided a direct hit, the heat from the pillar of flames had critically injured Brad and his friends, and even burned Alicia a bit. The good news was that the other mercenaries had avoided being struck by the spell, and the pillar had actually engulfed a group of approaching monsters instead.

“It’s my fault they’re hurt like that. The mages said that they’ll be alright, but that they’ll be heavily scarred. If I hadn’t gotten its attention like that, then…”

“Then it would’ve just used that spell on the others, killing many more in the process. Not only did you save them, but you also helped us deal with the Wyvern. You should be proud of yourself.”

I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Alicia had a slight tendency to let any little mistake get her down. I wouldn’t call her a perfectionist, but she was easily distraught by her mistakes.

So when something she perceived as a mistake wound up hurting someone, she took it especially hard. I knew that she was blaming herself, and would probably be okay once the others woke up and comforted her. But I’d be here for her in the meantime.

***

[Weregoblin’s POV]

“MRAAAAAAAGH!!!”

“Growwwwwllll!”

She’d finally tracked down the cow that escaped her, only to find it being guarded by a very large monster. The beast was tall, almost four times bigger than her, and heavily muscled. It looked like it would be able to crush her head in its hand.

But she wasn’t one to back down, not when her prey was right in front of her. So long as this beast kept her from it, she would show it no mercy.

She did have one advantage. The beast was unarmed, while she had her claws. Claws which were capable of slicing through flesh like butter. She slid forward, low to the ground, and slashed at its leg. Three gashes appeared, each oozing blood, and the beast roared in pain.

It swung one of its arms down at her, each of which was the size of her torso, but she slipped past and cut into its wrist. This wound was deeper than the first, and its blood was gushing from the cut. Even worse, she’d severed the tendon, virtually making its hand unusable.

From there, the fight became a one-sided slaughter. All the monster had going for it was its strength and size, which it wasn’t even able to utilize to its fullest. She kept dodging every single one of its attacks, gouging out chunks of flesh in return. Five minutes after the fight began, the monster was on its last legs, all the lost blood having drained its stamina.

With a final growl, she got in close and ripped its throat out. Even as it weakly gurgled behind her, she ignored it in favor of the delicious little cow in front of her. The Spotted Veal was huddled in the corner shivering and gently bleating.

Without even waiting for it to notice the death of its guardian, she leapt at it, her jaws clamping around its throat. Even with her jaws on its neck, the cow didn’t give up, and began to try and buck her off. Considering that she was only a little bit bigger than it, it could’ve gotten her off, if she hadn’t dug her claws into its flanks.

With the Weregoblin firmly attached to it, the Veal had nowhere to go as its blood slowly drained away. Once it had stilled, and its heart ceased beating, she dug into her long-awaited meal.

And it was just as good as she’d hoped.