"Horde?"
Stark muttered, his grip tightening on his sword.
For once, Kvran looked tense. His stance shifted, ready for battle. "Stay
alert. A lot of beasts and monsters are coming. We have to survive."
The
text before them flickered—then shifted into a ticking timer.
[3:00:00]
Stark's
eyes widened. "A timer?!"
"We
have to hold out for three hours?! Damn it!" Kvran cursed.
A
tremor shook the ground ahead. The dungeon floor vibrated beneath
them. Something massive was marching closer. Kvran clenched his
sword, sweat beading on his forehead.
Stark
had fought multiple opponents before—but never a horde.
"Create
a perimeter, quick!" Kvran barked. "I'll hold the left; you
take the right."
Having
fought on the front lines, Kvran knew the dangers of a horde better
than Stark. With only two of them, defense would be brutal. Worse,
Kvran’s
superior strength meant Stark's side would always be the weaker
link—the side most likely to collapse.
"Conserve
your energy. No reckless moves." Kvran warned. "You need to
last the whole three hours."
Stark
scanned for anything useful—but there was no time.
The
timer started.
[2:59:59]
Then—they
came.
From
the shadows, hundreds of red-skinned beasts emerged. Their arms were
covered in rocky spikes, almost like a club. Their hollow eyes gleamed
with mindless hunger. Drool leaked from their gaping mouths, sharp
canines glistening.
Kvran’s
face twisted. "Ma’oks!!"
Stark
glanced at him. "What the hell are those?"
Kvran
cursed. "Weak forest beasts from forests of the Grüntal
Kingdom…
but in numbers? A fucking menace."
Ma’oks
were a menace—not because of their strength, but because of their
mindless tenacity. These creatures felt no fear, no pain. According
to legends, they were cursed by a powerful witch that lived in the
Grüntal Kingdom’s forest centuries ago; since then, they have become
mindless beings, throwing themselves into battle without regard for
survival.
Kvran
wasted no time. He lunged forward, a spear flashing. A clean strike—one
Ma’ok’s
head flew off, blood spraying like a fountain. The body collapsed,
lifeless.
"Aim
for the head," Kvran instructed, driving his spear through the
skull of another beast. "They’ll
keep moving if you only pierce the heart."
Stark
observed the Ma’oks
closely, studying their movements. One charged at him, swinging its
club-like arms. He sidestepped as the massive limb slammed into the
ground, cracking the stone floor.
Durable
and powerful arms.
With
a sharp exhale, Stark brought his blade down in a clean arc. The edge
sliced straight through the creature’s
thick neck. Its head rolled. Blood sputtered. Another lifeless body
fell.
Another
Ma’ok
lunged. Stark blocked with his sword, the impact rattling his bones.
Strong—but nothing compared to the Twin Guardians.
"Weak,"
he muttered before swiftly decapitating it.
Minutes
passed. Then more. The Ma’oks
kept coming.
Now,
Stark understood why they were a menace. Their movements were
predictable, almost too easy to read—but that wasn’t
the problem.
They
just never stopped.
With
every kill, another came forward. Endless. Relentless.
Fatigue
was inevitable. And in a battle of endurance…
That
was where the real danger lay.
Stark’s
gaze shifted to Kvran, who was cutting through the Ma’oks like they
were nothing. The knight barely showed signs of exhaustion, while
Stark could feel fatigue creeping in, slowing his movements.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
[1:48:20]
Still
close to two hours left…
he muttered under his breath.
There
had to be something more. The dungeon wouldn’t
set impossible trials—there had to be a way to survive.
He
exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus.
A
Ma’ok
lunged. Stark drove his blade into its neck and flung the creature
aside like a rag doll. Another beast swung at his ribs. He barely
managed to raise his sword in time, the impact knocking him back
several steps.
"Ugh!"
His stance wavered.
In
an instant, dozens of Ma’oks
surged toward him, sensing weakness.
"This
runt—" Kvran cursed as he saw the incoming horde.
The
knight lowered his stance, gripping his spear. A sharp breath. A jolt
of energy.
Spear
Arts, First Form: Arc.
His
weapon moved. A silvery glow traced through the air, forming a thin
line across the necks of the charging beasts.
A
heartbeat later—
Kvran
reappeared on the opposite side of the battlefield.
Multiple
heads tumbled to the ground. Blood splattered across the damp stone.
The charge had been halted in an instant.
Kvran
turned his head and yelled, "Focus, you bastard. You're making me
waste extra energy."
Stark
gritted his teeth and forced himself back into position. His breaths
came in ragged gasps, and his muscles burned with every movement.
And
the horde kept coming.
He
was fighting through the pain. Cuts formed in the gaps of his leather
gear, blood dripping from the wounds.
Suddenly,
a charging Ma’ok
collapsed face-first into the ground, tripping the ones behind it.
Stark noticed a dark purple hue creeping up its feet.
“What’s
that?” he muttered, cutting down another beast.
His
eyes scanned the surroundings. The Ma’oks
near the fluorescent moss had their feet turn purple and began losing
balance and stumbling.
Is
this poisonous for them?
He wondered, slashing through another beast.
Although
it seemed to be poisonous, the effect wasn’t
immediate. The Ma’oks could still move, albeit sluggishly. The
dosage wasn’t lethal enough to kill them outright.
Stark’s
mind raced. He grabbed a handful of moss from the walls and smeared
it onto a red-skinned beast. It screeched in agony before collapsing
lifelessly.
So
the poison definitely works.
Dodging
a wild strike, he grabbed the beast’s
rocky arm, pivoted, and hurled it into the charging horde.
’s
a way to poison them all at once?
“KVRAN!!!”
Stark shouted. “Can you hold them off for a moment?”
“Huh?”
Kvran yelled back, his spear piercing through three skulls in a
single thrust. “What the hell do you mean?”
“I
think I have a way to kill a lot of them at once,” Stark said,
keeping his guard up against the relentless horde.
Kvran,
already aware that Stark’s
defensive line was crumbling, spared a glance at the timer.
[1:09:08]
Almost
an hour left. Kvran
noted. I
need him to hold out, or I’ll
have to defend both sides myself.
“Fine!! Make it quick!! I can’t
hold out for long!” Kvran shouted. He still had plenty of energy
left, but the horde was unyielding.
Stark stepped back from his position.
In an instant, Kvran seized
full control of the perimeter.
Spear
Arts 2nd Form: Guardian.
The
knight adjusted his grip on the spear and shifted his stance. A wave
of bloodlust surged from him as he unleashed his fury upon the
advancing horde. Red-skinned beasts were sent flying with each
devastating strike.
His spear tore through
tens of Ma’oks
in a single sweep.
Meanwhile, Stark moved swiftly,
retrieving his makeshift torch. One
of them still burned. He used it to light another before tearing a
strip of cloth from his clothing and covering his nose.
The
boy rushed toward the frontline, two torches in hand, and grabbed a
fistful of fluorescent moss.
He set it ablaze.
Flames
consumed the moss, and within moments, thick green smoke billowed
into the battlefield.
Ma’oks
that inhaled it collapsed almost instantly, their skin darkening to a
deep purple as the poison seeped into their bodies, almost like
absorbing the poison naturally.
“I found it,” Stark muttered.
“Kvran,
open a path there.” The boy pointed at the mass of fluorescent moss
within the heart of the incoming horde.
“Fine!!”
Kvran muttered. A jolt of energy coursed through him.
“Fine!!” Kvran muttered, a surge
of energy coursing through him.
Spear
Arts 3rd Form: Impale.
His
spear tore through the heart of the horde, crushing Ma’oks
on impact. Some were even cleaved in half by the sheer force of the
strike.
Kvran
moved forward. Stark followed.
With
his keen battle instincts, the knight carved a path through the enemy
lines, each strike deadly. He moved with ruthless efficiency,
eliminating any threat before they could swarm him.
As
soon as they reached the cluster of fluorescent moss, Stark skidded
to a halt, spinning toward it.
Kvran
turned around immediately, blocking incoming strikes.
“Cover
your nose.” Stark tossed a piece of cloth to the knight.
The
stage was set for havoc.
With
a grin, Stark lit the cluster of moss.
Flames
spread almost instantly.
Thick
green smoke flooded the battlefield.
The
red-skinned beasts choked and convulsed, their bodies darkening to a
deep purple before collapsing lifelessly onto the cold, hard ground.
“Fall
back!!” Stark yelled.
Kvran
grabbed him, slinging the boy over his shoulder.
As
they retreated, Stark hurled his makeshift torches to other parts of
the battlefield, igniting more patches of moss.
“Behind
that pile of Ma’ok corpses!” the boy advised.
[0:30:10]
The
timer ticked down.
They
reached the pile of Ma’ok
corpses, taking cover behind it. The lifeless bodies absorbed the
approaching smoke, shielding them as it wreaked havoc across the
battlefield.
Stark
exhaled, glancing back through the cover.
The
battlefield was littered with piles of dead beasts. None had
survived. They dropped like flies, one after another.
Kvran,
still catching his breath, mumbled, “How
did you know that?”
Stark
shrugged. “Just
cause.”
A
grueling thirty minutes passed as they finished burning the last of
the moss.
Then—
[Congratulations!!]
The
text materialized before them.
[You
have successfully defended against the 1st wave.]
Both
Stark and Kvran gasped in unison.
“Huh?
1st?”
Before
they could react, another ominous message flashed before their eyes.
[2nd
wave starts in 12 hours!!]
A
new countdown appeared.
[12:00:00]
Stark’s
rage exploded.
“FUCK
this, you dirt-eating raven!!”
