Chapter 92: Group Class Raid 8
Boom!
The combined, layered strikes landed almost in unison a synchronized death knell that echoed through the cavern. Shadows, fire, arrows, and distorted space had converged into a single, overwhelming destructive finale. The air itself seemed to shudder under the weight of the collective attack.
The dungeon floor groaned violently beneath the weight of the impact, a deep, unsettling sound that promised collapse.
The ogre, a towering brute until this moment, didn’t scream this time. It merely staggered, a sudden, pathetic tremor running through its colossal frame. It was as though the will to resist the very spark of violent life had finally been torn out of its massive body. A hollow, defeated groan, more a mechanical release of air than a conscious sound, rumbled from its throat. Its ruined, hulking frame wavered once, then twice, before its two remaining knees buckled catastrophically under its bulk.
And then it fell.
The ground shook with one final, seismic quake as the colossal monster’s body slammed against the stone floor. The impact was not a crash, but a dull, sickening thud that stole the air from the cavern. Dust rose in thick, suffocating clouds, drifting through the arena like a heavy, grey curtain drawing down on the battle. The ogre lay utterly lifeless, unmoving, the deafening echo of its fall reverberating through the suddenly profound silence.
"Phew..." Kael Vi-rel finally let his shield arm drop. The heavy, dented metal clanged loudly against his leg as he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He swiped the hot, stinging sweat dripping down his chin with the back of his gauntlet. His heart was still racing not from the physical toll, which was manageable, but from the searing panic of the final moments. He had come within a hair’s breadth of destroying everything they had worked for. That was too close. Far too close.
The silence, however, was a fragile thing, easily shattered.
A clear, crystalline chime rang through the dungeon, a pure, high note that broke the remaining tension like glass shattering under a hammer. A holographic interface shimmered into existence in the midair above the fallen ogre, projecting glowing words in bold, authoritative golden script:
Fifth Group Record: 2 minutes 50 seconds.
A new record!
For a moment, no one moved, suspended in disbelief. Then, the cavern erupted.
The temporary spectator stands shook as the gathered crowd leapt to their feet, cheering with a frantic, unleashed fervor that easily rivaled the initial quake of the ogre’s fall. The sleek, floating drones hovering across the arena instinctively darted closer, capturing every angle of the triumphant team and the still-shaking ground, feeding the spectacular finish to the countless viewers beyond the dungeon walls.
"Wooooow! Did you see that finish? The combined hit was insane!"
"A record in under three minutes unbelievable! They absolutely melted the boss!"
"They crushed it! The new gold standard! The Fifth Group is untouchable!"
The voices of the audience overlapped into a deafening, unified roar, their sheer, unadulterated excitement vibrating through the very stone walls of the dungeon. It was a wave of adulation, a tsunami of instant fame.
Selene Whitmore wiped her deadly obsidian dagger clean with a swift, economical flick of her wrist, wisps of shadows still clinging faintly to her skin as though reluctant to let her go. She smirked, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Two minutes and fifty seconds. Not bad for a warm-up, right?"
Octavia Blake adjusted her leather quiver, letting her meticulously crafted longbow rest against her shoulder, the tension finally easing from her draw arm. "Not bad? Selene, that’s a record that will stand for months, maybe years. This level of speed is unheard of. Do you realize the kind of attention and resources you’ve just unlocked?"
Julie Wartin, still catching her breath from the fierce backlash of the massive fire spell she’d thrown, gave a soft, slightly giddy laugh. Her fingers still tingled with residual arcane energy. "Or what we’ve invited by doing it so fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re thrown into a proper hellscape next time, a proper wake-up call."
But Kael Vi-rel wasn’t smiling.
He stood slightly apart from the immediate jubilation, his eyes fixed on the massive, utterly lifeless form of the fallen ogre. Its ruined, pulverized shoulder and the horrific stump where its arm had been told the cold, brutal truth of the final exchange. He hadn’t meant to strike that hard. He hadn’t meant to unleash the full power of the technique in that moment. He hadn’t meant to end it so quickly, so cleanly.
Damn... it ended too fast. His thoughts were cold, heavy, a weight settling deep in his chest. The monster was supposed to last another three or four minutes. It took that lethal, decisive hit from me, the one I shouldn’t have been able to land. That’s what cut the time down to an impossible number. Not perfect teamwork. Not flawless strategy. Just my mistake.
His broad shoulders sagged infinitesimally beneath the weight of his shield and the even heavier weight of his growing concern. "I was aiming for six... maybe seven minutes," he muttered, rubbing the lingering tension from his brow, his voice lost to the din of the crowd. "Instead, we ended it in less than three."
The cheering, ecstatic crowd didn’t see it didn’t understand the mechanics of the dungeon system. But Kael Vi-rel knew. He had studied the algorithms, the cold, reactive logic of the Trials for years. If the system recognized this abnormal, impossibly fast pace, it wouldn’t reward it with another gentle test. It would see the group’s performance as an anomaly, a breach in the expected difficulty curve.
And the system never responded kindly to breaches.
A knot of profound unease tightened in his stomach, a familiar, icy dread. If the difficulty spikes now, the next mandatory challenge will be brutal. The others, in their elated state, wouldn’t be ready. They’ll think they are, riding this high of victory and the new title... but they aren’t. Not yet. They needed slow, steady growth, not this forced acceleration.