We spent another thirty minutes enduring the relentless fury of the Gravelurker.

  One by one, we fell to its devastating attacks.

  Darwyn y motionless, his arms twisted at unnatural angles, both clearly broken. His head lolled to one side, eyes barely open, teeth clenched in agony.

  Muradin staggered, coughing up fresh blood that spttered across the stone. His wounds were far worse than he let on.

  Orin was unconscious, crumpled against a jagged rock.

  And me?

  I could barely summon the strength to stay on my feet. My vision blurred. Every breath was a battle of its own.

  Only Elena remained standing.

  Her slender frame trembled, barely holding itself upright. Her arms bled from cuts she hadn’t even noticed. But her eyes were locked onto the beast, burning with determination.

  “You’re not taking them,” she whispered, biting her lip until it bled. “Not as long as I’m here.”

  Arrow after arrow flew from her bow. Each one struck true, always in the same spot. The st functioning eye of the Gravelurker.

  The beast howled in frustration, filing its grotesque limbs in every direction.

  “Watch out, Elena!” I croaked, my voice barely more than a breath.

  She didn’t need the warning. She twisted, rolled, flipped. Her movements were pure instinct. Fluid. Fierce.

  “You’re mine,” she growled, nocking another arrow. “Fall already, you monster!”

  She loosed it.

  The arrow struck the eye dead center.

  The Gravelurker let out an ear-splitting roar, shaking the entire cavern. Its long legs quivered, then buckled. The glow in its final eye dimmed and faded, pulsing once… then dying completely.

  It slumped forward, its massive bulk hitting the ground with a thunderous crash.

  A blinding burst of light erupted from its core. Final. Absolute.

  The battle was over.

  None of us moved for a moment. We just y there, stunned.

  “Is it…” Muradin rasped, wheezing through bloodied teeth, “Is it dead?”

  Elena didn’t answer.

  She dropped her bow and rushed to her brother’s side. Her hands trembled as she gently adjusted his broken arms, trying to align them without making things worse.

  “Don’t scream, okay?” she said softly.

  Darwyn let out a strangled yell as she set the joints into pce.

  “Love you too, brother.”

  I forced myself to lift my head, even though every muscle in my body screamed in protest.

  “We… we did it,” I whispered. “But… what now? Did it drop anything?”

  There were three potential drops. Something that suited Elena’s prepared build, a Soul Fragment for Orin, or a rare artifact for myself.

  Dust still floated through the cavern air.

  Elena stepped carefully toward where the body had been. Her steps were slow, cautious, like she wasn’t sure it was really over.

  Then she froze.

  “Guys,” she said breathlessly, turning to face us. “You might want to see this.”

  We stared as she bent down and retrieved two shimmering items from the ground.

  She turned them in her hands, the glow reflecting in her wide, astonished eyes.

  “A Soul Fragment,” she said in disbelief. “And the… the Webweaver Longbow.”

  I blinked. My jaw went sck.

  Muradin coughed. “Wait. Two drops? That's not… no. That’s not supposed to happen.”

  Darwyn let out a strangled ugh. "Did… Orin’s luck still working"

  I looked over at her unconscious body. “Of course it did,” I muttered, chuckling despite the pain. “Unbelievable.”

  ***

  “Hey, Erynd, I swear, my luck’s been through the roof ever since I met you. This haul alone is worth more than my entire earnings from a year of adventuring!” Muradin chuckled, shaking a pouch heavy with loot. “Though, to be fair, I do have to nearly die every time, hahaha!”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Darwyn added with a grin. “Shame we couldn’t use Mana Surge on that Gravelurker. Otherwise, I’d be enjoying my early retirement by now.”

  “Serves you right for being greedy. That’s why both your arms are broken,” Muradin teased, ughing as he nudged Darwyn’s shoulder.

  Orin sighed, gncing down at her hands. “I’m sorry… If my pouch hadn’t been damaged, I would’ve had the Mana Surge ready. This is my fault.” Her voice was quiet, tinged with guilt. She had contributed the least in the battle, yet somehow ended up with the best loot.

  “Oh, cut that out, you idiot. We’re just messing with you,” Muradin scoffed. Then he turned to Darwyn. “Oi, dumb elf, apologize properly.”

  Darwyn sighed, sheepish. “Yeah, sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Honestly, if not for you, we wouldn’t have even had a shot at taking down that oversized bug.”

  Elena, sensing the tension, quickly jumped in. “What do you call that wind and lightning combo of yours? Thunder Cyclone? That was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Thunderstorm Vortex,” I answered, steering the conversation away from Orin’s guilt.“Didn’t think it’d be that powerful. Good thing none of us were caught in the bst.”

  “Hah! That overgrown spider was twitching like it got struck by real thunder!” Muradin barked out a ugh, cpping Orin on the back.

  “Hey, Mister Bromir, quit moving around so much! Let your wounds heal properly, or my potions will go to waste,” Orin scolded, though her tone had lightened.

  With that, the tension finally broke. We sat together, talking and joking as we recovered from our grueling battle.

  I found myself reflecting on the fight. We were lucky. Ridiculously lucky.

  But calling it mere luck would be an insult to the effort each of us put in. Muradin had thrown himself into harm’s way to take Gravelurker’s attacks head-on. Darwyn had relentlessly bombarded it with sticky bombs. Orin’s Blightroot Draught had pyed a crucial role in countering the monstrous regeneration. And then there was Elena…

  She had fought alone in those final moments. Almost an entire hour trapped in the Eternal Grave World, her life force steadily drained by the accursed Drainweaver Web. The fact that she was still standing at all was nothing short of a miracle.

  I looked around at my party. With this team… we could do it. We could make it to the upper floor.

  “Oi, Eryndor, stop spacing out,” Orin called, waving a hand in front of my face. “At least tell us what you’ll do with those Mana Stones once we get back.”

  “Hmm… Still saving for my next spell. This isn’t enough yet,” I admitted.

  Darwyn groaned. “Ugh, boring.”

  ***

  We rested a full day before continuing. Anything less would’ve been reckless.

  The next morning, we gathered materials for our quests as we made our way back to the main path. Tedious, but necessary. Thankfully, Darwyn had marked our route earlier. Without it, we’d be wandering Gloomspire Hollow for days, maybe even until the Tower itself closed.

  Swoosh!

  Elena loosed an arrow, her shot swift and precise. The Burrowbane didn’t even get the chance to retreat underground before the Webweaver Longbow’s enchanted string hummed, sending another arrow straight through its carapace.

  I watched as the creature twitched once before going still.

  That bow was proving to be a game-changer. Its active skill would be invaluable once we reached the second floor. I made a mental note to strategize around it.

  “Tsk, showoff,” Darwyn muttered. “At this rate, we won’t even get to fight.”

  Elena smirked, lowering her bow. “Guess it’s time for your little sister to have your back for once.”

  “Don’t get cocky. You’ve been around Muradin too much,” he shot back.

  “She’s just telling the truth,” Muradin chuckled. “Looks like your sister’s stronger than you.”

  "Orin, help me out here," Darwyn groaned.

  “I’m with Mister Bromir on this one,” Orin said, amused.

  "Erynd..."

  I pretended not to hear.

  We pressed on, cutting down any monsters foolish enough to cross our path. With our quests done, all that remained was reaching the main road. After nearly three weeks in these cramped, dark, and foul-smelling tunnels, the thought of fresh air felt like a distant dream.

  "Eryndor," Orin called out, breaking the silence. "How strong do you think I've become after absorbing the Gravelurker Soul Fragment?"

  "Not as strong as me, that's for sure," Darwyn quipped without missing a beat, his grin barely visible in the dim light.

  "Sssh, I was asking Eryndor." Orin shot him a gre, her big eyes rolling in exaggerated annoyance.

  Muradin's hearty ugh echoed from the back of the group.

  "Mind expining those Soul Fragments again? I kinda... forgot." Orin gnced at me expectantly, so I obliged.

  I chuckled. "The stat boost isn't anything special for you, a little bit of Stamina and Agility, but the real value is in the skills it grants. The passive, Arcane Reserves, increases your mana pool and recovery rate. Combine that with Arcane Strike, and you'll be able to convert mana directly into damage. It’s perfect for the build we pnned. Less reliance on consumables, more synergy with your skills."

  Of course, there are more advanced mechanisms, but it's better if I expin it ter, once she’s got that item, perhaps in the next few months.

  Orin's eyes lit up, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. I could already picture her once the build reached its full potential. If everything went as pnned, she'd be the backbone of our party before long.

  "Erynd, don't forget about me!" Elena piped up, her voice carrying a pyful edge.

  "I haven't. For now, focus on getting used to your new weapon. Next cycle, we'll head to Frostfang Tundra. There’s a Soul Fragment there with your name on it."

  Darwyn stretched, his bow slung casually across his back. "Maybe I should start tagging along to the library with you. You know... broaden my horizons."

  Muradin snorted. "And leave me drinking alone? Where's the fun in that?"

  Laughter filled the tunnel, pushing away the suffocating silence that had lingered for days. Even in the depths of the earth, some things could always brighten the journey, like a little banter among comrades.

  ***

  After a long and winding journey, we finally made it back to the main road. The familiar path should have been a relief. But something was wrong.

  “I can smell blood… thick,” Darwyn muttered, his fingers tightening around his bowstring. His usual confidence was nowhere to be seen.

  “I-I smell it too,” Elena whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

  But no matter how hard we looked, we couldn’t find the source. The only evidence of battle was dried blood spttered across the cracked stone road and deep gashes in the ground, scars left behind by bdes and cws alike. But that alone shouldn’t have created such a strong scent. Then again, this was the Tower. Life-and-death struggles were routine here. Fighting monsters was inevitable. Even battles between adventurers weren’t unheard of, though if caught, the punishment was severe.

  Since nothing seemed immediately threatening, we pressed on, making our way toward the chamber where the portal guardian resided. We remained on high alert, but we didn’t slow our pace, only to discover that someone had already defeated it. Not surprising, considering the Tower expedition would end in just three days.

  But something was off.

  The entrance to the portal was completely blocked. Massive chunks of stone sealed the way, as if the ceiling had caved in. And yered over it was an additional yer of protective magic, a shimmering barrier that pulsed with power.

  Someone had deliberately sealed the way. A trap.

  Darwyn and Muradin, both seasoned adventurers, seemed to come to the same conclusion.

  "We need to get out of here. Now," Muradin muttered, his fingers absently stroking his thick beard. A clear sign that he was on edge.

  "Agreed. I have a bad feeling about this," Darwyn added, his usual rexed demeanor repced by sharp vigince.

  Orin and Elena looked confused, but even they could feel it.

  Something was very, very wrong.