Chapter 10 — Part 1: All At Once

  HP: 150 / 150

  Mana: 150 / 150

  I stood at the center of the reinforced chamber.

  Aria looked at me carefully from behind the control pillar.

  “You’re sure? … I just want to double check before we start.”

  “Have them work together,” I said. “No holding back.”

  She nodded once.

  Light flooded the room.

  The Lookout formed first—high perch, immediate elevation.

  The Shieldbearer anchored front-center.

  Two Skirmishers split wide without hesitation.

  The Pyromancer positioned mid-rear.

  And the Queen stepped forward last.

  This time there was no delay.

  The moment they stabilized—

  They moved as a unit.

  The Shieldbearer advanced to collapse space.

  Skirmishers fanned outward to cut off lateral escape.

  The Pyromancer began gathering heat immediately.

  The Lookout shifted above for vertical pressure.

  The Queen remained just outside engagement range—command position.

  The first strike came from above.

  Sixth Sense pulsed.

  I didn’t look.

  I stepped under the Lookout’s descent and caught him by the throat mid-air.

  At that exact moment—

  Fire bloomed from the Pyromancer’s staff.

  Front attack. Wide spread.

  I moved the Lookout’s body into the flame’s path.

  The fire detonated into him.

  A Skirmisher lunged from my right.

  His blade drove straight through the Lookout’s torso.

  The creature dissolved between us.

  The Skirmisher’s strike carried forward into empty space.

  I shoved him into the Shieldbearer’s forward charge.

  They collided.

  The formation staggered—but did not break.

  The Skirmishers reset spacing.

  The Pyromancer widened his angle.

  The Shieldbearer pressed forward again, forcing me backward.

  The Skirmishers flanked wide enough to prevent escape.

  The Pyromancer shifted to restrict retreat lanes with fire bursts instead of direct shots.

  They weren’t trying to overpower me.

  They were compressing the battlefield.

  Sixth Sense pulsed again.

  Left.

  Rear-right.

  Front.

  High.

  Four threat vectors simultaneously.

  I Burst Stepped backward.

  Mana: 150 → 130.

  The fire blast scorched the ground where I had stood.

  But the Shieldbearer had anticipated that.

  He cut off my retreat with a shield rush.

  I pivoted and used his forward pressure to redirect into a Skirmisher.

  Steel rang.

  The Skirmisher recovered faster this time.

  The Queen finally entered range.

  She attacked from a distance with poison.

  I dodged.

  Every time I tried to isolate one—

  The others collapsed inward.

  Every time I created space—

  The Pyromancer filled it.

  They surrounded me.

  Sixth Sense lit in every direction.

  Not one pulse.

  Many.

  Different densities.

  Different speeds.

  The Shieldbearer surged from the front.

  A Skirmisher slashed low from the left.

  The second came high from the right.

  Fire condensed directly ahead.

  Poison darts coming from above

  5 incoming strikes.

  All lethal if stacked.

  Sixth Sense flared—

  But there were too many signals at once.

  My body could not independently dodge five simultaneous attacks.

  I inhaled once.

  And activated it.

  Hunter’s Overdrive.

  Mana surged outward.

  Mana: 130 → 90.

  The world slowed.

  Sound stretched.

  Motion dragged.

  Like reality had been submerged underwater.

  My thoughts expanded.

  The Shieldbearer’s bash crept forward in slow inevitability.

  The Skirmishers’ blades traced their arcs like paint strokes across glass.

  The fireball bloomed in slow ignition.

  But my body—

  It didn’t feel light.

  It felt resistant.

  Like I was pushing through syrup.

  My perception had accelerated.

  My muscles had not.

  I had to choose.

  No wasted motion.

  The shield bash had the most mass.

  I stepped just enough to alter its angle—

  Then guided it with my blade.

  The Shieldbearer’s momentum carried him directly into the left Skirmisher.

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  The impact shattered both formations.

  The Skirmisher’s low slash redirected upward into the Pyromancer’s expanding fire.

  The fire detonated prematurely.

  The Pyromancer took the brunt of it. The poison melted in the explosion.

  He dissolved in his own blast.

  One Skirmisher down from collision.

  One Pyromancer eliminated.

  The second Skirmisher attempted to recover mid-motion.

  I used his forward drive and pivoted around him, letting his blade continue its arc into the Shieldbearer’s exposed side.

  The Shieldbearer dissolved.

  The Skirmisher stumbled.

  I moved.

  Every step deliberate.

  Every adjustment minimal.

  No wasted swings.

  No wasted energy.

  Within seconds—

  Only one Skirmisher remained.

  He lunged recklessly.

  I stepped aside and let his own acceleration carry him into the reinforced wall at full force.

  He dissolved on impact.

  Overdrive’s thirty seconds were burning away.

  The room felt heavier by the second.

  Only the Queen remained.

  She was injured from the pyromancers fireball blowing up prematurely.

  The slow-motion thickness began to thin.

  The heaviness began to lift.

  Hunter’s Overdrive ended.

  And exhaustion set in instantly.

  My limbs felt overused.

  Reaction lag crept into the space between thought and motion.

  Sixth Sense still pulsed—

  But my body responded slower.

  The Queen saw it.

  She moved immediately.

  No feints.

  Just a clean, decisive strike.

  Her blade cut across my torso before my guard fully rose.

  HP: 150 → 120.

  I didn’t retreat.

  I stepped inside her follow-through instead.

  Caught her weapon arm at the wrist.

  Locked it.

  And drove my sword straight through her center.

  She froze.

  Then dissolved.

  Silence returned to the reinforced chamber.

  I collapsed to the ground.

  Intelligence: +1

  “ARE YOU OK?” Aria yelled.

  “Yeah I should be fine, the skill just has one hell of a kick to it.”

  Rank: C-

  Base CP: 31

  Effective CP: 43

  Strength: 7

  Endurance: 6

  Agility: 6

  Intelligence: 7

  Luck: 5

  HP: 120 / 150

  Mana: 90 / 160

  “One thing is for sure, I think I'm going to need someone to back me up during these dungeons. No matter how strong I become, I cannot prepare for everything and there is only so much I can do by myself. Especially because I'm always going to have to be adjusting to my power and that will lead to moments of vulnerability.“

  “I know I said I didn't want to fight, but given everything that is happening it looks like I might have to help you moving forward.”

  “I would rather not force you to fight with me if I don’t have to. You have such a beautiful gift of being able to bring your art to life. I know how much you want to become a renowned artist one day. I wouldn’t want you to give up on your dreams for me.”

  “Well if there is no world left to save, how am I going to become famous? Besides I’m only going to be able to sit back and watch you fight alone for so long. When the queen downed you in the gate, I felt terrified that I might lose my best friend. If you hadn’t stepped in when you did I was getting ready to erase her.”

  “Yeah I can understand how you feel watching me constantly be in danger but right now you are too strong for the dungeons I am taking on. If you were to help me now and genuinely tried you could speed run the dungeon and I know you can just summon weaker creatures but I rather you get a chance to document the dungeons and use it for your art like we originally agreed on.

  How about this, I look for someone I can trust, someone closer to my level and in the future if I'm ever genuinely struggling I will ask you to step in and help, but until then you continue to do what you have been doing.”

  “I mean that doesn’t sound like a terrible plan. But who can we trust with this secret of yours.”

  “ Leave it to me. It might take some time but I'm sure I will find someone, besides you agreeing to help train me along the way is already a huge help. I would feel bad if I had to take up more of your time.”

  “Fine but whoever you want to join us we have to BOTH agree on trusting them!”

  “ Deal!”

  …

  Draco: Speaking of trustworthy people, how do you feel about Camila?

  “Well you were right she seems nice, but we only recently just met her. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt but you never know.”

  “Yeah that’s true. I say we trust her but not fully. We don’t tell her about how my powers work at all, we just tell her that we recently started raiding dungeons but for personal reasons I want to stay anonymous. I don't mind telling her about our findings inside the dungeon.”

  “ Agreed, let's little by little see how much we can trust her.”

  *I message Camila and ask her when is a good time to meet to discuss dungeon findings.*

  *she responds after a couple minutes and says we can meet at her place at 4pm*

  While me and Aria waited for the meeting time to come we relaxed. She wanted to watch some movies together so we did, with plenty of snacks.

  At 3:30 our alarm rang that we had to start heading out.

  Aria said she was going to drive. I didn’t think anything of it at the moment and agreed to let her drive us there.

  Aria’s car looked like it belonged on a racetrack more than a city street.

  The year was 2050, and vehicles had changed a lot in the last two decades, but Aria had clearly gone out of her way to pick something that stood out even among modern cars. The body was low and aerodynamic, smooth metallic graphite with faint electric-blue accent lines running along the sides like veins of light. The headlights were thin, almost blade-like, and instead of traditional mirrors there were two small camera nodes built into the frame that fed into the dashboard display.

  It was technically electric, but calling it that felt misleading. The motor barely made a sound. When the car accelerated, it didn’t roar — it launched.

  I had barely closed the passenger door before Aria tapped the dashboard and the engine hummed to life.

  “Seatbelt,” she said casually.

  “I can’t remember why I don’t ask you to drive me places more.”

  The car slid out of the parking space and into traffic with smooth precision.

  For about five seconds.

  Then Aria stepped on the accelerator.

  The city blurred.

  The buildings outside the window stretched into streaks of color as the car surged forward, weaving between traffic with a confidence that made my stomach tighten.

  “Aria.”

  “Yes?”

  “That car in front of us exists.”

  “I see it.”

  “You’re approaching it very quickly.”

  She flicked the wheel slightly and the car slipped cleanly into the next lane before I could finish the sentence.

  “Relax,” she said.

  “I am relaxed.”

  We shot through an intersection just as the light turned yellow.

  I leaned back in the seat and stared at the windshield as another car whipped past us on the right.

  I now remember why I don’t let her drive me places, I prefer living then getting to where I am going quickly.

  She slowed slightly as we approached a quieter section of the city, the buildings gradually shifting from high-rise towers to older apartment blocks.

  “Letting you drive me around reminds me I need to get my own car asap. I think you might send me to the afterlife before a dungeon monster gets the chance. ”

  She rolled her eyes but eased off the accelerator.

  Eventually the car turned down a narrower street lined with aging apartment complexes and small storefronts that had clearly seen better years.

  “This is where the GPS said to stop,” Aria said.

  It wasn’t the worst part of the city, but it definitely wasn’t the expensive districts either. The sidewalks were cracked in places, streetlights spaced a little farther apart than they probably should have been, and most of the buildings had that slightly worn look that came from decades of use.

  But it was still the city.

  And in 2050, space in the city cost money.

  A lot of money.

  Aria pulled the car to the curb outside a six-story apartment building.

  The structure was old concrete, probably built sometime in the late 2020s before architecture shifted toward the sleek glass-and-steel towers that dominated the newer districts. A digital keypad panel glowed beside the front entrance, and a small camera lens sat above it watching the sidewalk.

  Aria shut off the car.

  The sudden silence felt strange after the drive.

  I stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  “You survived,” she said.

  “Barely.”

  She locked the car with a small flick of her wristband.

  With a press of a button the car transformed into a very cheap looking run down car.

  “That never ceases to surprise me.”

  “Can’t have a super car saying hey I am super expensive come steal me in broad daylight.”

  We walked up to the entrance and Aria pressed the call panel.

  A few seconds later the door buzzed.

  “Fourth floor,” Camila’s voice came through the speaker.

  We stepped inside.

  The hallway smelled faintly like cleaning solution and old carpet.

  An elevator sat at the far end, its metal doors sliding open with a quiet mechanical hum as we approached.

  Fourth floor.

  The doors opened to a narrow hallway lined with apartment doors.

  Camila’s unit was near the end.

  She opened the door before we even knocked.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Her apartment was surprisingly spacious for the building.

  Not luxurious — but well organized.

  The main room was a combined living and kitchen space. A small couch sat against one wall with a low coffee table in front of it, and a compact kitchen area stretched along the opposite side with a narrow counter and built-in appliances. The lighting was warm and soft, coming from thin LED strips mounted along the ceiling rather than a central overhead fixture.

  Everything looked clean.

  Almost meticulously clean.

  There were no dishes in the sink.

  No clutter on the counters.

  Even the shoes near the door were lined up neatly against the wall.

  “Come in,” Camila said.

  We stepped inside.

  “Nice place,” Aria said.

  Camila shrugged slightly.

  “It’s not bad. Wish the neighborhood was better”

  She gestured down the short hallway branching off the living room.

  “It’s a two-bedroom.”

  Two-bedroom apartments in the city weren’t cheap, even in bad neighborhoods.

  Camila noticed the look.

  “One of them I turned into a workspace.”

  Camila smiled faintly. “Come.”

  She led us down the hallway and pushed open the door.

  The second room looked like a miniature newsroom.

  A large desk sat against the far wall covered with recording equipment — microphones, audio interfaces, camera gear, and a multi-screen computer setup displaying editing software and open research documents.

  A whiteboard stood in the corner covered with scribbled notes, timelines, and arrows connecting different pieces of information.

  Stacks of notebooks and printed articles were neatly arranged along a bookshelf beside the desk.

  This was clearly where she worked.

  Where she researched.

  Where she built stories.

  Camila leaned against the doorframe.

  “So,” she said, looking between us.

  “You said you had something important to talk to me about after you cleared another dungeon?.”