The Echo Gloom-Bat hung from the cavern ceiling like a grotesque chandelier. Its massive wings were folded tight against a body the size of a wolf, and crystalline growths jutted from its skull in jagged formations. Eight crimson eyes remained closed in sleep.
Level 5 boss.
Nael had spent the last thirty minutes methodically clearing every creature from the surrounding tunnels to ensure this moment would be uninterrupted. His essence total sat at 795—just 205 short of level 5. One clean kill would push him over the threshold.
He gripped his quarterstaff, took aim, and hurled it with everything he had.
Thwump. Whirr-whirr-whirr.
The weapon spun end over end through the stale air.
"!"
Eight eyes snapped open. The creature's head tracked the incoming projectile with predatory precision.
"SCREEE-ECH!"
Sound rippled outward in visible waves. The quarterstaff struck the barrier and ricocheted, clattering across stone somewhere behind him.
But Nael was already in motion. His right hand whipped the poisoned dagger forward in a wide arc. The moment the blade left his fingers, he lunged for his spear.
The Echo Gloom-Bat shrieked again —"KREE!"— and another concussive wave deflected the dagger, sending it spinning into the cavern wall. But Nael had already covered the distance, spear clutched in both hands, driving the venomous point toward the creature's throat.
The bat had already released its grip and dropped. Fwump. Just inches before the spear connected, crystalline growths on its skull blazed with light.
"SCREEEECH!"
The psychic shriek hit Nael mid-thrust.
"ARGH!"
Agony exploded through his skull like white-hot needles. His aim wavered, but momentum carried the spear forward. The tip of the spear grazed the creature's shoulder, drawing a line of dark blood before skittering off bone.
"KRE!"
The Echo Gloom-Bat landed hard, fury blazing in its eight eyes.
A massive wing-claw swept out, catching Nael across the chest. Leather armor split like paper. The impact sent him sprawling across stone, pain radiating from his ribs.
'Urgh!'
Blood trickled from his nose. The cavern spun sickeningly as the psychic assault continued to pound inside his head. Through fractured vision, he watched the creature advance, wing-claws scraping sparks from rock.
Nael rolled sideways as talons gouged the floor where his head had been. His fingers found the spear shaft. He gripped it tight and swept the weapon in a desperate arc.
The blade caught the Echo Gloom-Bat's extended wing—steel bit through membrane and sinew. The creature's shriek became purely animal as dark blood splattered the cavern walls.
'A-Again!'
Nael surged to his feet, fighting through the disorientation. The bat reeled back, favoring its damaged wing.
'Again!'
He pressed forward, driving the spear point deep into the opposite wing's joint.
CRUNCH.
Bone cracked. The wing folded at an unnatural angle.
Grounded and bleeding, the Echo Gloom-Bat made one final lunge.
'N-Now!'
Nael sidestepped and thrust with surgical precision, finding the gap between crystal growths. The spear punched through the ribs and found the creature's heart.
"Kre...e..."
The monster shuddered once, let out a wet, gurgling exhale, and collapsed in a heap of torn membrane and spilled blood.
"Huff... Huff..."
Silence descended, broken only by Nael's ragged panting.
A dark, potent essence core materialized and streamed into his chest.
[ Echo Gloom-Bat (Lv5) Defeated: +500 Essence ]
[...]
[ You have obtained: x4 Echo Gloom-Bat Fangs ]
[ You have obtained: Vial of Psychic Echo Residue ]
[ You have obtained: x3 Crystalline Focus Shards ]
Nael remained on his knees for a long moment, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs in ragged gasps.
"Huff... Huff..."
The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He wiped a sleeve across his face, smearing the trickle from his nose, and focused on the simple, physical act of breathing.
'In. Out. In. Out...'
The pounding in his skull began to recede, the last psychic echoes of the bat's shriek fading into a dull, manageable throb. He closed his eyes, letting his high Focus and Wisdom stat do their work, calming the storm in his mind, processing the adrenaline and the pain.
'Hehe...'
A slow grin etched across his features, cutting through the grime and blood.
'It worked.'
The plan, born from a calculated analysis of his own stats against the creature's known abilities, had actually worked. The risk had been immense—a single misstep would have been fatal—but the reward...
His gaze fell on the system message still hanging in his vision.
[ Ding! ]
[ New Achievement Unlocked: Solo Hunter ]
[ Grade: Rare ]
[ Condition: Single-handedly defeat a Boss monster(Rare Grade) ]
[ Your Fulfillment: Defeated a Lv. 5 Echo Gloom-Bat while at Level 4 and alone. ]
[ Rewards:
· Title: Lone Wolf - Gain a 5% increase to all attributes when fighting alone.
· Attribute Enhancement: +2 Strength, +2 Agility, +4 Focus ]
"Ha..." The sound was half laugh, half exhausted sigh. "It really worked."
His high Wisdom had allowed him to push through the disorienting effects of the psychic scream far faster than a normal person could. His massive Focus pool had let him maintain his coordination and execute his desperate attacks even while his senses were scrambled.
"Haah..."
Pushing himself to his feet, he approached the fading corpse. He quickly harvested the loot, three shards being cool and strangely soothing to the touch. The fangs and the vial of psychic residue followed into his pack.
He was rich not just in essence, but in loot. These materials would fetch a good price at an alchemy shop.
But he couldn't dwell on them right now; time was of the essence.
'Let's level up and recover energy first.'
He quickly chose a good spot and sat cross-legged, entering meditation state - he wanted to reach level 5 faster.
The rest could wait for now.
_____ __ _
"We are here..."
The air grew colder, thicker, as Mireille's party edged into the expansive boss chamber. Norman led with his shield held high, its golden surface reflecting the eerie glow of the cavern's fungi.
Brennon was a half-step behind, his greatsword at the ready, while Silas melted into the shadows along the periphery. Sara's hands were already alight with a soft, ready luminescence, and Mireille brought up the rear, a palpable heat shimmering around her.
They moved in cautious silence, expecting the growls, the guttural hiss of the dungeon's final guardian monster, or the shrieks of its lesser minions. Yet...
"Huh?"
They found nothing.
The chamber was deathly still. No monstrous guardian, no swarming adds. Only the evidence of a brutal, one-sided battle.
"W-What in the..." Norman murmured, lowering his shield a fraction as he took in the scene.
The cavern floor was a charnel house. Shattered carapaces, torn and oozing with viscous fluid, were strewn about. Deep gouges scored the stone floor, and dark, splattered blood—too thick to be from the smaller weavers—stained the walls.
The air reeked of iron, offal, and something else... something acrid and ozone-sharp, like the air after a lightning strike.
"Did... did another party beat us to it?" Sara asked, her voice hushed with disbelief. "Were we too late?"
Brennon's face was a mask of grim confusion. "We couldn't find the mini-boss on the way here, either. It was just... gone too."
Mireille said nothing.
But a deep, unsettling irritation prickled at her senses, a feeling like fingernails dragged across the chalkboard of her soul. But it wasn't fear too; it was more like a profound, instinctual dissonance. Her [Sun Princess] class, a wellspring of pure, ordered light, recoiled at the lingering residue in the chamber. It felt... conflicting. A violation of the natural order. A stain.
"It's not another party," Silas's voice was a low whisper from the darkness near a particularly large, eviscerated corpse. He emerged, his usually impassive features tight. He knelt, running a finger through a strange, tar-like substance smeared next to a claw mark. It sizzled faintly at his touch, and he jerked his hand back.
"I think..." he said, looking up, his eyes serious. "...something else took them down. All of them. A real monster."
Brennon followed his gaze, squinting at the brutal efficiency of the carnage. This wasn't the work of a rival graduate team. The damage was too savage, too absolute. His training, the warnings drilled into them at the Lyceum, clicked into place.
His face paled. "A territorial breach. Or a unique spawn." He sheathed his greatsword with a sharp, decisive shing. "We have to turn back. Now. We have to report this to the instructors. The exam needs to be stopped."
No one argued. The gravity of the situation settled over them, cold and heavy. This was no longer about leveling or glory. This was about survival. Survival of all examinees. The future of Aethelgard.
A boss monster, or something worse, was roaming the dungeon unchecked.
"..."
With a last, uneasy glance at the slaughterhouse chamber, the party turned as one and moved out, their retreat twice as fast as their advance, the silence behind them now more terrifying than any monster's roar.