For the dwarves, equipment was everything.

  It wasn’t just about their unmatched ability to craft and repair gear—there was another, more powerful advantage unique to their race. Dwarves gained a 20% stat bonus from any equipment they wore.

  That wasn’t all. The active skills of their weapons and armor also received the same boost.

  This was why Muradin’s Thunderstrike Slam could unleash such devastating power. And it was also the reason for his unshakable confidence in his own durability.

  Korrogoth’s Bulwark Armor wasn’t just any high-tier gear—it was an absolute fortress. It granted immense resistance to both physical and magical attacks, as well as strong knockback resistance.

  But its true power lay in its active skill—Bulwark of Defiance.

  A simple yet overwhelming ability, it doubled all resistances. Combined with the natural racial bonuses of a Dwarf, this skill made Muradin a walking juggernaut.

  As the blinding white blast from Aegros' attack engulfed him, Muradin activated Bulwark of Defiance. His armor thickened, his stance unyielding as he braced for impact.

  But there was one critical problem—

  Muradin was still under the Frail debuff.

  No one knew what would happen. Would even his legendary defenses be enough to withstand Aegros’ full-force attack?

  We could do nothing but wait, holding our breath as the dust began to settle.

  The once-blinding light dimmed, replaced by swirling debris. The purple mist clouding the battlefield made it nearly impossible to see.

  Then—

  “Hmph… You really can’t do anything without me, huh?”

  A voice rang out, laced with its signature cocky laughter.

  The mist parted slightly, revealing a battered but still-standing Muradin. His grin was as sharp as ever.

  “Now eat this, you bastard!” he roared.

  [Bastion Strike cast]

  A radiant, blinding light erupted from Muradin’s shield, this time not as an attack to withstand—but as a counterstrike.

  The sheer force of it slammed into Aegros, shaking the battlefield. Even its mighty, armored body couldn’t withstand the impact—massive chunks of its plated defenses shattered and peeled away one after another.

  Aegros trembled, its once-unbreakable defensive plates crumbling.

  Even after Muradin’s attack had ended, the damage continued. Slowly, Aegros’ true form emerged—its sleeker, streamlined body pulsing with fiery blue energy.

  Its shield?

  Gone.

  In its place, a pair of razor-sharp, gear-like chakrams spun ominously in its hands.

  Without hesitation, Aegros hurled one of the chakrams straight at Muradin, the spinning blade screeching through the air like a deadly buzzsaw.

  Muradin, completely drained, couldn’t even attempt to dodge.

  I didn’t think. I just moved.

  Lunging forward, I swung my warhammer with all my strength, intercepting the chakram mid-flight.

  CLAAANG!

  A deafening metallic clash echoed as my hammer met the spinning death blade. The sheer force of the impact rattled my bones, my hands numb from the shock.

  The chakram rebounded, spinning back toward Aegros, who now stood at nearly the same height as Darwyn, having sacrificed its bulk for raw speed and power.

  My warhammer slipped from my grip, crashing onto the ground. My arms trembled violently, pain searing through them from absorbing the attack.

  Darwyn, always quick to read the battlefield, rushed to Muradin’s side, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to safety.

  “I’m borrowing this,” I muttered, reaching down and grabbing Muradin’s shield before Darwyn could pull him too far away.

  ***

  Aegros in Offensive Mode was a nightmare to deal with—fast, relentless, and devastating. But the silver lining?

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  Its attack patterns were predictable.

  And Darwyn and Muradin had fought this beast before. They knew how to handle it.

  “Elena, activate your Web-Infused Arrows. Also, focus your Phantom on assisting with my Lightning Bolt targeting,” Darwyn commanded, his voice sharp and confident.

  Elena gave a quick nod. “Got it.”

  “Erynd, stay on it—don’t let it get a clean shot with those chakrams. Orin, keep throwing Electroflasks, no need to use Quick Enhance.”

  One by one, he assigned our roles, his voice cutting through the chaos like a battle-hardened strategist.

  “Heads down! Incoming chakram from the left!”

  I ducked instinctively as a razor-sharp disc of death whizzed past, slicing through the air like a reaper’s scythe.

  “Muradin, when you are ready, reinforce the backline!” Darwyn barked while unleashing another Lightning Bolt, his arrow crackling through the battlefield.

  Little by little, the tide began to turn.

  Aegros’ once-blistering speed started to wane.

  I could see it now—the moment when our strategy took effect.

  Muradin, noticing the shift, abandoned his defensive role and moved back up to the front line, flanking Aegros with me.

  Meanwhile, Elena deactivated her Web-Infused Arrows, switching instead to lightning-enhanced arrows, courtesy of Orin’s Thunderlash Vial.

  With its defenses down, Aegros stood no chance against our all-out assault. It didn’t take long before the beast was finally defeated. A sharp Zing! echoed through the air as its massive body faded into nothingness.

  Darwyn smirked at me, shouldering his bow. Here it comes…

  “Well, well, looks like our newbie tank isn’t half bad,” he teased. “Maybe you should consider making this your permanent role.”

  I snorted. “And put Muradin out of a job? Poor guy.” I threw a glance at our resident dwarf.

  “Hey, Mister Bromir, you need to be more careful!” Orin scolded Muradin, her hands on her hips. “You nearly gave me a heart attack when you blocked that attack alone!”

  Muradin let out a booming laugh and thumped his chest. “And yet here I stand, completely unharmed! Do not underestimate Muradin Bromir, son of Thrain!”

  Before Orin could continue her lecture, Elena stepped forward, holding up a glowing blue mushroom between her fingers.

  “So, who’s going to eat this?” she asked.

  The Guardian of Thalorien Forest had dropped its special item—Mirelance Shroom. This precious mushroom, found only in these woods, had a single crucial effect: it permanently removed the debilitating effects of the Purple Mist.

  We all exchanged glances. The answer was obvious.

  ***

  "Erynd, are you sure about this?" Orin asked, her voice filled with doubt.

  Muradin chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think anyone's ever attempted what we're doing. Last time we ventured to this cursed forest, we barely managed to take down Aegros before getting the hell out. Defeating even one Guardian under the curse was a feat beyond reason."

  Darwyn nodded in agreement, his face set in grim determination.

  "Which means the next one should be easier," I said, my voice steady and full of confidence. "One of us has already broken free from the negative status, right?"

  "E-easier?" Elena stammered, eyes darting between us. "So, uh... where exactly are we going next?"

  "Cindralis, obviously," Darwyn answered, his voice firm. Then, almost as an afterthought, he shot me a quick, uncertain glance. "Right, Erynd?"

  Orin smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you the leader? Why are you asking him?"

  Muradin groaned. "Hold on a second. We're in the southwest now, and that means we need to trek all the way to the northeast? That's a hell of a distance!"

  I grinned, adjusting my hammer. "Which is exactly why we should get moving instead of standing here complaining."

  We pressed forward, weaving our way through the twisted trees of the cursed forest. Corruptus Spriggans had disappeared, replaced by more familiar monsters—Veilstalkers lurking in the shadows and the ever-infuriating Duskspore Golems, their thick bodies puffing out clouds of toxic spores. The poison wasn't lethal, but it was a hell of nuisance since I couldn’t use Rejuvenation.

  We paused for a brief rest at the Sanctum of the Wayfarer, restocking our potions while taking turns on watch. The oppressive silence of the forest gnawed at our nerves, every rustle of leaves making us jump.

  By the time we resumed our trek, the sky had begun to darken, the first signs of night creeping in.

  "Told you this place is full of ghosts," Muradin teased, nudging Orin with his elbow.

  Orin flinched and quickly averted her gaze, refusing to look up. "Shut up. You know I hate ghosts."

  "Alright, stop messing with her," Darwyn said, drawing his bow in one fluid motion. A second later, an arrow zipped through the trees, passed by a Thornwraith—a ghastly apparition draped in withered vines, oozing black ichor as it drifted between the branches.

  The creature shuddered as the arrow whizzed past it, before vanishing into the darkness.

  Orin immediately moved closer to Darwyn, clutching the edge of his sleeve.

  "It's okay, Orin," I reassured her. "They’re not aggressive… just creepy."

  She muttered something under her breath, refusing to let go of Darwyn’s sleeve.

  As we advanced, the monsters became even more unsettling. Blightwings—horrid, mutated birds with wings of diseased leaves and jagged bones—flitted through the trees in swarms. Their shrill cries echoed through the night, sending shivers down my spine.

  "Watch out—don’t let them swarm us!" I warned.

  Several of them dove toward us, but Orin was quick, tossing an Electroflask into their midst. Sparks erupted, and the creatures shrieked as they fell, twitching. Elena followed up with her bow, unleashing electric arrows—imbued by Thunderlash Vials. More Blightwings dropped from the sky, sizzling as electricity coursed through them.

  We had lost count of how many we'd slain by the time the real threat arrived.

  Finally...