They pressed onward, with the slain devil horde receding behind them. Kin couldn't quite contain himself, a grin spreading across his face as he clenched his fists, feeling a surge of internal power. Tiren, walking beside him, noticed the restless energy, nudging him slightly with an elbow.
"Something got your head stuck, kid?" Tiren asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Kin looked over, his grin widening, utterly earnest. "I Just levelled up to 42 back there. That army of devils gave out some nice XP!"
Tiren stopped walking for a half-step, his amiable expression vanishing, replaced by slack-jawed shock. His gaze swept Kin up and down, disbelief warring with appraisal. "Level... 42?" he repeated, the number tasting foreign on his tongue. It wasn't the level itself that shocked him, but the context. "You move like a level 70. No, even higher! not... not someone barely past the intermediate floors! How?"
Kin felt his cheeks flush. He ducked his head slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, suddenly unsure. "Uh..." he chuckled softly, awkwardly, "Lucky, I guess?"
For a moment, Tiren just stared, processing. Then, a huge, booming laugh erupted from his chest, echoing slightly in the passage. "HAH! Lucky! Oh, I like you, kid!" He clapped Kin soundly on the back, nearly making him stumble. "You've got real spirit, pure toughness! 'Lucky!' Hah!"
Shaking his head and still chuckling, Tiren turned forward again. At the same instant, Kin looked up. Both their heads towards the end of the tunnel simultaneously. The weight they'd felt lessened slightly here, replaced by an almost... inviting openness. A vast darkness hinted beyond the tunnel mouth. Relief surged through Kin, raw and potent after the recent tension. "Finally!" he yelled, breaking into a run, eager to see what lay beyond.
"Kin, WAIT!" The Master's shout was desperate, with sudden alarm.
But Kin was already at the threshold. In that same fraction of a second, the inviting darkness erupted. A torrential wave of pure heat and searing light ascended from below the opening, aimed directly at the space Kin was about to occupy.
Before the inferno could engulf him, a shape blurred past Kin's peripheral vision. The Master. Moving with impossible speed, he was suddenly there, slightly ahead and below the descending firestorm. His heavy coat whipped off his shoulders in a dark arc – not held defensively but swept underneath the tide of flame. The enchanted fabric met the fire not with resistance, but with forceful redirection, violently parrying the incandescent wave downwards just outside the tunnel, where it blasted against the rock in a shower of molten sparks and hissing steam.
The immediate threat deflected, the source was revealed, illuminated by the residual glow. There. Looming in the sudden, vast expanse beyond the tunnel mouth. It filled the space, its sheer scale defying belief. Two immense heads, reptilian and ancient, surveyed the tunnel entrance from serpentine necks thicker than oak trees. Below them, a colossal body bristled with scales like diamond shields. This was no mere beast; it was a primordial engine of predatory might, radiating an aura so immense, so crushing, it made the pressure Kin had felt earlier seem like a gentle nudge. Its presence saturated the very earth underneath.
Now following the Master's parry, Tiren and Sye arrived at the high tunnel mouth. Seeing the unfolding situation, they didn't hesitate, leaping from the elevated ledge. Sye landed beside Kin moments later Tiren landed with a controlled impact on the cavern floor, weapons already drawn as their eyes locked onto the threat the Master now faced.
The chamber they had entered was revealed in the aftermath of the deflected fire. Vast clusters of luminous blue crystal grew naturally from the edges of the dungeon's walls. Crystalline geodes cracked open, bathing the immense space. The rest of the team caught up rapidly, adrenaline surging, weapons ready. They spilled out from the tunnel mouth, jumping onto the floor of a cavern so vast it felt less like a dungeon chamber and more like the interior of a hollow mountain, easily dwarfing a football stadium. High above, clinging impossibly to the distant ceiling, the two-headed dragon regarded them, its multiple eyes like pools of molten gold tracking their arrival. It had been waiting.
This was it. The beast responsible for the memories of grief Sye sometimes saw in the Master's eyes, the creature that had stolen his friends. The Master stood slightly ahead, his body rigid, fists clenched so tightly the knuckles became white mountains. Then, with a low sound like grating stone, he brought forth his weapon. Not drawn, but summoned. A mace of gleaming, gunmetal-grey Titanium materialized in his grip. Wicked, razor-sharp flanges spiralled around its heavy head, each edge honed to an impossible thinness, seeming to slice the very air around them. And woven between these deadly spikes, intricate patterns of shimmering gold twisted and flowed like captured rivers of light, wrapping the instrument of destruction in an aura of terrible beauty.
The four companions gathered on the cavern floor, small figures beneath the immense arch of the tunnel stretching above them. Far overhead against the shadowed rock of the cavern ceiling, the twin-headed engine of destruction watched them. The moment had arrived.
The two-headed behemoth using its immense power, launched itself upwards. The sheer force of the jump shook the very foundations of the room, tremors rippling outwards through the stone. With astonishing speed for its size, it soared towards the distant ceiling. Its claws, each a massive talon capable of shearing rock, slammed into the crystalline structures high above, digging deep and finding purchase with explosive impacts that showered dust and small crystal fragments downwards.
both serpentine heads swivelled downwards, twin pairs of sulphur-bright eyes fixing on the small figures scattered far beneath them. A low growl resonated from both throats simultaneously.
Moments stretched taut with anticipation. Then, the air before each dragon maw began to shimmer and distort with rapidly coalescing energy. Twin spheres of blue incandescent power bloomed, swirling with contained infernos. Without further warning, both heads unleashed their fury – not single blasts, but a sustained barrage of explosive fireballs detonating across the cavern floor, specifically targeting the scattered team.
Kin, Sye, Tiren, and the Master became blurs of motion, adrenaline driving them as they dashed between incandescent impact craters, the sheer concussive force of near misses throwing them off balance, the heat scorching the air around them. Behind the shifting curtain of smoke and dazzling detonations. Tiren, caught somewhere under the overlapping bursts behind them, yelled over the cacophony, "How are we gonna get it down here?!"
"Sye!" The Master's command rang through the roar of explosions.
Even amidst the chaos, Sye flowed. Her evasive dash transitioned seamlessly into purposeful movement across the open floor. Dodging another falling sphere of destruction with effortless grace, her hand simultaneously reached back, smoothly drawing her bow from its harness across her back as she moved. Then, momentum carried her forward as she planted her feet abruptly, facing the threat high above. Her breathing remained controlled, almost serene despite the urgent advance. Bringing the now-drawn bow up, she nocked an arrow and drew the string back in one fluid motion, her focus narrowing entirely onto the behemoth clinging high above. In a voice barely audible above the din, yet carrying absolute conviction, she declared, "Power Move: Thousand Arrows!"
Along the curve of her bowstring, phantasmal shafts of raw energy formed — first a handful, then rapidly multiplying into a dense array of glowing projectiles, hovering like a constellation locked in orbit.
Just before release, a searing white aura surged from her body.
"Defying Light!"
Every arrowhead burst into flame — not ordinary fire, but radiant white heat, righteous and consuming. She released — and the barrage tore through the air like judgment made manifest. The dragon, engulfed in its own fiery onslaught, never saw the retaliation coming. The arrows rose like unleashed wrath — not scattered, but united, drawn to their mark by some divine will. Each bolt pierced through hide and muscle, sinking deep into the joints and soft seams between armoured scales. A tremor rippled through the cavern as the beast writhed, its massive form lurching against the stone above.
Both dragon heads threw back in unison, emitting ear-splitting shrieks of agony that drowned out the explosions. Its grip on the ceiling faltered. With a groaning protest of stressed rock, the beast tore free, plummeting downwards. The impact when it struck the cavern floor was apocalyptic – a seismic shockwave that hurled waves of wind and dust outwards, momentarily blinding the team. Sye's unbound hair whipped violently around her face as she stood her ground.
Through the storm of debris, the Master seized his opening.
As the dragon reeled — staggered from its fall and riddled with arrows — he dashed forward, closing the gap to one of its flailing rear legs.
With a roar, he raised the Titanium mace high and brought it down with devastating force. The bladed flanges tore into layered scale and sinew — not slicing, but mangling. Bone splintered beneath the impact, flesh ruptured, and the limb gave way, left in ruin of shattered muscle and cracked scales.
The Master didn't linger, he disengaged immediately, dodging a reflexive snap from one head as he fell back into formation with the others.
Then it came. A roar — deeper than before — erupted from the wounded beast, steeped in incandescent rage. It didn't echo. It crashed, swallowing the chamber whole, a raw bellow that seemed to tear through their very bones.
For a breathless instant, the world felt suspended. The air tightened, not with pressure, but with hatred so fierce it gripped the chest and throttled thought.
The dragon, pain cast aside, the dragon heaved itself upwards — trembling, yet impossibly defiant — balancing on its three surviving limbs. Then, a terrifying transformation began. The molten gold in its eyes bled outwards, consumed by a burning red. Hateful and consuming. Along its vast frame, change swept like a curse: one flank sank into a void-like black, its scales swallowing what little light remained, Along the other side, flared into a feverish, blood-dark crimson.
The team stood wary, weapons raised, waiting for the next move. But the dragon simply held its ground, its now-divided gaze fixed on them, unblinking.
From the side wreathed in darkness, the left head moved first. Its voice rumbled like tectonic plates grinding beneath the sea.
"Brother. Shall we break them?"
The crimson head answered without a moment's breath, its tone crackling with heat.
"Yes, brother. Break them."
The dragon's words struck like war drums in their chests. No one spoke. No one moved. They just braced — knowing that whatever followed wouldn't just be deadly… but a nightmare born of flame and shadow, and it had only just begun to wake.