"Phew…" Judas exhaled heavily, collapsing under the shade of a crooked, thorn-rooted tree. His breathing was ragged, sweat dripping down his brow.
Max flopped beside him, equally worn out. Alex, ever the reliable one, took out a half-filled water bottle and passed it around.
"Hey, gimme another sip," Max said eagerly, reaching for the bottle again.
Peter pulled it back with a firm hand. "No, Max. We don't know how long we'll be stuck in this dungeon—or if we'll find another water source. We need to ration every drop."
Max frowned but didn't argue. He leaned back, groaning, his face twisted with silent frustration.
After a brief rest, they roasted the meat of the werewolves they'd hunted earlier—smoky, gamy flesh cooked over a faint orange flames conjured by Diana's magic. It wasn't delicious, but it kept them alive.
Once done, they moved on, their boots crunching against gravel and dried bones as they ventured deeper into the dungeon's shadowy maze.
Suddenly—
"Wait!" Diana shouted, raising her hand.
Everyone froze.
A few feet away, a group of small squirrels emerged from behind a rock. They looked normal at first glance—almost cute, even—but something about their twitching movements felt... off.
Diana took a cautious step forward.
"Don't," Max said sharply, grabbing her wrist.
"Let me go, idiot!" she snapped, struggling in his grip.
But Max didn't budge. His eyes remained locked on the squirrels. "There's something wrong with them."
To prove his point, he tore off a chunk of the leftover werewolf meat and tossed it toward them.
The squirrels swarmed it instantly—devouring it like ravenous beasts. Their eyes gleamed red, and their tiny teeth shredded through muscle and sinew like it was butter.
Even Diana flinched.
Alex immediately raised his hand and slammed it down—activating his earth magic. Spikes erupted from the ground, caging the creatures before they could react. Then, the earth collapsed inward, swallowing them whole.
"Let's move," Peter ordered grimly. "No more distractions."
As they pressed on, Diana whispered to Max, "...Thanks."
Max didn't respond. He just looked away.
They reached a cliffside path, where a massive cave loomed ahead—its entrance carved into the shape of a mountain goat's skull. The horns curled upward like a crown, and the teeth were jagged stone, forming a natural gate.
Peter narrowed his eyes. "Judas. Teleport up and scout it."
Without hesitation, Judas vanished in a flash of spatial energy. Moments later, he reappeared, pale and tense.
"The boss… I think it's him, there was a bad smell of meat and something very huge in the dark."
Peter nodded. "We're moving in."
Judas teleported to the top again and dropped a rope. One by one, they climbed—except Max, who clawed his way up with brute strength, his fingers digging into the stone. Judas helped haul everyone up safely.
Inside the cave, Peter ignited one of his arrows with a soft chant, its tip flaring like a torch. The flames cast shifting shadows against the damp stone walls, revealing cracked bones, half-eaten corpses, and claw marks etched into every surface.
The air reeked of rot and old blood.
Then they saw it.
A giant wolf, gnawing on something unidentifiable—its fur matted with gore, eyes glowing faintly yellow.
As the flame's light touched its face, it stopped and turned.
Its head rose slowly, revealing crimson-stained teeth. Saliva dripped from its mouth as it growled—a low, guttural rumble that shook their bones.
The creature was monstrous. Its claws were each longer than Judas's claymore. Muscles rippled beneath its dark fur like coiled cables.
Then it howled.
The sound wasn't just loud—it was deafening, like the sky itself cracked. The pressure alone sent all five of them to their knees, hands pressed to ears that still rang with pain.
And still, the beast stared—straight at the team.
Max met its gaze and stood up, expression unreadable. "Leader," he leaned closer to Peter and asked quietly. "Can I fight it alone?"
Judas heard it, he looked at Max like he'd gone mad. "Have you lost your mind?! That thing will tear you apart!"
But Max didn't budge. His eyes stayed locked on the wolf.
Peter hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." Max clenched his fists. "I feel it. Deep down—I can defeat it."
Peter exhaled. "…Alright. One condition. If it overwhelms you, we step in. No arguments."
Max nodded firmly.
Peter gave him a look of silent respect. "Then… good luck."
Diana tried to move forward, but Peter stopped her with one arm.
"Let him cook, Diana," he said calmly.
Reluctantly, she stepped back.
The team watched in tense silence as Max walked forward—one steady step at a time.
The wolf growled. Max growled back.
Then they charged.
Max launched himself into the air, claws outstretched. He grabbed the beast's neck, trying to choke it—but the wolf snarled and slammed him hard into the cave wall.
CRACK.
Blood splattered. Max slid down, groaning.
Before he could react, the wolf swung its tail like a club. The impact sent Max flying out of the cave, his body tumbling through the air.
"MAX!" Diana screamed.
The wolf leapt out after him.
The team rushed to the cliff's edge and peered down—just in time to see the wolf catch Max in its mouth and slam him into a tree like a ragdoll.
He hit the bark with a sickening thud. Blood burst from his mouth.
The wolf turned away, satisfied—until it froze.
A hand gripped its tail.
Max stood—barely. Blood dripped from his mouth. His eyes were rolled white. Something primal had awakened.
His spine arched with a sickening crack. His scream warped into a roar as white fur exploded from his arms and back, his jaw elongating into something inhuman. His fingers curled, nails erupting into ivory claws that dug trenches in the ground. A spectral tiger burst from his aura, prowling around him in ghostly, fluid motion.
The wolf whimpered.
Max roared—and lunged.
Back at the cliff—
"Judas! Get down there!" Peter barked.
Judas teleported in a flash. Alex leapt first—Judas caught him midair. Then Diana. Then Peter, who required both Judas and Alex to catch him.
They ran toward the battle—but halfway there, the noise stopped.
"...No..." Judas whispered. "Why is it quiet?"
Alex's voice trembled. "Did... did Max—?"
"Shut it!" Peter snapped. "We don't assume until we see it with our own eyes. MOVE!"
They sprinted faster, Judas teleporting ahead in quick bursts.
When they arrived—
Judas froze.
The wolf lay in pieces, its massive body ripped apart, blood and pieces of flesh shattered everywhere like a flood.
Beside it lay Max—his body broken, covered in deep, jagged wounds. His transformation had reverted. Blood soaked the earth beneath him.
"Diana!" Peter shouted.
She rushed forward, kneeling, hands glowing with healing magic. But the wounds were too many. Her magic slowed the bleeding—but didn't close the gashes completely.
Then, a soft hum.
A portal shimmered nearby—the dungeon gate.
Peter's eyes widened. "Let's go! Grab him!"
He and Alex lifted Max carefully. Judas and Diana snatched their gear and followed as they ran toward the portal.
As they emerged from the gate, sunlight bathed them.
Waiting healers rushed forward, taking Max from their arms and placing him on a stretcher.
The dungeon contractor approached Peter, grinning and offering a handshake.
"Congratulations, Justice Seekers! A clean boss kill."
But the celebration was short-lived.
Behind them, the remains of the Wizards of Hell—charred armor, scorched limbs, torn flesh—were carried out by the cleanup crew.
Everyone bowed their heads.
Judas closed his eyes.
"May their souls rest in peace."
---
Three Days Later
Max slowly opened his eyes.
The room was bright—too bright. He blinked a few times and glanced down. Bandages wrapped his body, but the pain was gone.
"Max!" Peter's voice echoed.
He looked up. The rest of the team stood around his bed, relief on their faces.
"How are you feeling?" Judas asked.
"…Better," Max murmured, voice hoarse. But there was a distant look in his eyes.
He sat up slowly. "Leader… is it possible to hear the thoughts of dungeon beasts?"
Peter blinked. "…What?"
Max hesitated. "When I was fighting that wolf… I felt something strange. It didn't want to fight. Not really. When it threw me down the cliff—when it dragged me away—it was like… like it wanted to talk. Like we were forcing it."
The room went quiet.
"You mean… you fought it while unconscious?" Alex asked.
Max nodded. "I don't remember much. My body moved on its own. It felt like… instincts. Like something else took control."
He clenched his fist. "But what stuck with me most… was the feeling. That wolf wasn't just some bloodthirsty beast."
Peter had no answer.
Alex muttered, "Maybe you were hallucinating…"
Max didn't even bother asking Judas or Diana. He ignored them.
Both pouted at once.
---
Next Day — Elder's Office, Ravenshire
Goldgrim sat at his ornate desk, flipping through the local newspaper. His face was lit with amusement.
"Justice Seekers Clear B-Rank Dungeon!"
"Young Magicians Defeat Rare Beast in Lomanise!"
Contractors from across kingdoms had begun approaching them—why? Because unlike the veteran guilds that demanded absurd fees, the Justice Seekers delivered high-risk results for half the cost.
They'd gone on to clear more dungeons—B+ ranked, filled with spiders, orcs, ogres, even T-Rexes.
Fame and fortune followed.
Goldgrim chuckled, tossing the paper aside.
"They're growing fast," he muttered.
---
Scene Shift — Erebus
Deep in the obsidian halls of Erebus Castle, Dracula, the Vampire Lord, smirked.
A cold wind howled through the obsidian halls of Erebus. Dracula, sitting on his dark throne, relaxing his face with his arms, legs crossed, his grey skin glowing faintly beneath the torchless dark. Corpses hung like trophies from ceiling hooks. He drank from one slowly, as if savoring wine, eyes never blinking.
Dracula stood.
He approached a fresh corpse and sank his fangs in. As he drank, his body transformed—muscles pulsing, armor cracking, wings exploding from his back.
A terrifying pattern of glowing blood vessels formed across his chest.
He raised a tiny baby bat in his clawed hand.
"It's almost time… just as Lucas asked," he whispered.
Then, with a slow squeeze, he crushed the bat—blood dripping from his palm.
His crimson eyes narrowed.
"Let the game begin."
Across the world, red dungeons began to open. Not one or two—dozens. Their surfaces pulsed like living flesh, hovering above cities or buried beneath the ground.
People didn't understand at first.
They thought it was just another dungeon surge. Dangerous, yes, but manageable. Like always.
They were wrong.
---
Raventon — Western Kingdom
The red gate cracked open above the city square during rush hour. People looked up, phones recording, guards rushing to set up barriers.
Then something flew out.
At first glance, it looked like a man. But its limbs were too long. Its skin was grey, leathery. Its eyes glowed a faint violet, and its mouth was filled with jagged teeth like broken glass.
It landed on a woman and bit straight through her neck.
Screaming broke out. Then more of them followed—winged humanoids, fast and silent. They grabbed civilians, tore into them, vanished into alleys. The guards fired spells and arrows. Some hit. Most didn't.
Within minutes, it was a massacre.
---
New Liora — Southern Empire
Here, the dungeon opened inside a marketplace. People scattered when the sky turned red, but the gate hovered quietly for over an hour.
Then, one by one, they came out.
Their wings folded close to their backs. Some had no eyes. Others had mouths that ran up to their ears. One of them grabbed a child by the leg, lifted her into the air, and threw her into a building.
Hunters arrived too late.
The creatures had already blended into the streets, crawling across walls, windows, rooftops—hunting.
---
Volmark — Northern Tundra
The gate here didn't open in the sky. It broke beneath the ice.
An entire scout unit was sent to investigate. They radioed in a tunnel—red, pulsing, stretching deep under the glacier.
Their last message:
"They're nesting down here."
No one heard from them again.
---
Gallisport — Central Plains
The dungeon here collapsed.
It didn't just open—it exploded. Red mist spread across the town like a wave. Windows shattered. People dropped to the ground screaming. Their ears bled from the pressure.
Then came something big.
A winged humanoid, over three meters tall, walked out. Its chest was armored in bone, and it spoke—not words, but a deep vibrating growl that shook the air.
Anyone who got close collapsed. Some started convulsing. Others bled from their eyes and nose.
The dungeon had broken.
And it wasn't just a breach.
It was war.
---
In just a few hours, at least five countries declared emergencies. Dungeon defense units were wiped out. Contractors sent out distress signals. Governments scrambled to understand what they were facing.
These weren't normal monsters.
They were organized. Fast. Intelligent.
And they were all the same type.
Bat-like humanoids.
---{end of chapter 12 }