The growling deep within the tunnel rolled forward like a wave of thunder on a silent night. The mage’s fireball flickered, as shadows stretching long and sharp across the jagged walls.

Then, they finally saw dozens of creatures appearing from the dark tunnel in front of them. They were twisted, hunched beasts with slick, mottled hides and elongated jaws dripping with saliva. Their claws scraped sparks against the stone floor as they rushed forward on all fours, their glowing eyes glinting in the dim light.

Their snarls and heavy footsteps filled the tunnel until it felt suffocating. All the monsters were C-Rank and were comparable to 4th circle mage or early High-Grade martial artist.

Finn was the first to move. “Wind Cutter!”

The air around him spiraled violently as he swung his sword, sending a crescent blade of compressed wind tearing through the front line. The monsters howled as the attack carved them apart, bodies collapsing in heaps that dissolved into faint motes of energy.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched that happening. The last time he had seen Finn fight, his wind magic had been rough around the edges. Now, his control was sharper, and smoother. His strikes flowed seamlessly, with fewer wasted movement.

‘Not bad, Finn. You’ve grown a lot in a short time.’

Beside Finn, the scarred warrior roared as he charged into the fray, swinging his greatsword in broad arcs that cleaved monsters in half. Each strike was accompanied by a grunt, as if sheer brute force alone would crush their enemies.

The mages behind him muttered rapid chants, their hands glowing as they cast spells. Fireballs burst, crackling bolts of lightning split the darkness, and shards of ice rained down, impaling beasts that tried to leap over the front line.

The newly arrived group wasted no time either. The lanky elf at their head vanished in a blur, his slender blade gleaming as it cut through monsters like ribbons. Wind rushed at his back, his movements too fast for most to follow. His companions also fought with precision, a wall of spears and shields pressing forward in disciplined formation.

Arthur’s  eyes tracked every movement in silent assessment as time passed.

Finn darted back a step, spinning his blade, and the wind answered his call again. A sudden gale exploded outward, slamming a cluster of monsters against the tunnel walls with a sickening crunch. He grinned, sweat already glistening on his brow. “That’s three waves down!”

The scarred warrior spat, swinging his sword in another brutal arc. “Stop counting and keep killing!”

A fireball detonated near the back line, the blast rocking the tunnel. Bits of stone and charred flesh rained down, and the mage who cast it wiped blood from his cheek with a grimace. “Damn… these things won’t stop coming!”

Arthur’s lips tugged faintly at the corner as he watched Finn fight. His technique wasn’t perfect, but it had improved dramatically. 

But Arthur also noticed something else. Every time they struck one monster down, three more seemed to crawl out of the dark to take its place.

The elf from the other group sliced through another wave, his blade flashing in the dim light. His expression remained calm, but his voice was edged with irritation. “There are too many. This pace is unsustainable.”

The scarred warrior growled, kicking a beast off his sword. “Then what, elf? You want to run?”

The elf’s gaze flicked toward the endless black of the tunnel. “If this continues for much longer, we’ll collapse from exhaustion long before they stop coming.”

Finn gritted his teeth, slashing a monster across the chest as he shouted back. “So what do you suggest? Just stand here and wait to die?”

The elf’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he cut down another monster with clinical precision, his movements were sharp and efficient even as he appeared a bit exhausted.

Arthur remained silent, still observing. His sword spirit’s voice rumbled in the back of his mind. ‘You won’t intervene?’

Arthur’s eyes flicked toward Finn, who was already moving to shield one of the mages from a leaping beast, his sword whistling as it cut the monster down mid-air. Finn shouted encouragement to the others, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Arthur exhaled slowly. ‘…Not yet. They need this more than me. I want to see how far Finn can go.’

One might wonder how nobody questioned him for not fighting like the others. It was the doing of the sword spirit, suppressing not only his presence but was also making everyone here both the people and the monsters ignore his presence unconsciously as if he was not present here in the first place.

The horde increased in size again, pressing tighter around the group. The mage’s fireball sputtered as his mana waned, the flame shrinking and flickering dangerously. The tunnel filled with snarls and snapping jaws as more beasts surged in, their eyes burning like embers in the dark.

The scarred warrior cursed loudly. “Damn it, they’re endless!”

Another mage’s voice cracked with strain as she raised a trembling hand. “I-I’m running low on mana!”

Finn spun his sword again, whipping up another wind blast to shove the monsters back. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, but his eyes burned with stubborn determination. He glanced around briefly in the shadows, as if searching for something.

The monsters roared again as the horde swarmed closer, piling over their fallen like a tide that refused to recede.

…

The tunnel shook with the unending clash of steel, spells, and snapping jaws.

The mage with the sputtering fireball gritted his teeth, pulling a vial from his belt. He bit the cork off, gulped down the glowing blue liquid, and hissed as the mana flooded his body. Around the group, more of them were frequently reaching for mana potions to compensate for their lack of mana.

The sudden surge of spells lit up the tunnel once more. Fire spells ignited, lightning cracked, and shards of ice split through the air.

But the monsters that poured from the dark tunnel this time weren’t the same as before. Their claws were sharper, and their hides looked thicker, indicating they were much stronger than the previous ones. When the scarred warrior’s blade cleaved through one, he felt the resistance, the monster’s bone crunching before finally snapping apart.

“These new ones are stronger, be careful!” the elf barked as his sword glanced off a beast’s shoulder before he adjusted his angle and sliced cleanly through its neck.

Finn was already moving, his chest heaving with every breath. He thrust his hand forward, the wind spiraling violently into a sharp spear that skewered three beasts at once. “Wind Lance!” The pressure burst them into blood and light motes, but for each he killed, more surged forward to replace them.

Arthur’s eyes tracked every monster. He also noticed Finn’s movements were slower now, his spells taking more out of him but somehow his attacks were growing much more fiercer. ‘He’s pushing past his limits…’

The scarred warrior grunted as claws raked his side, blood splattering across the ground. He roared and struck the beast down, but his knees buckled for a moment before he straightened again.

Another mage screamed as a monster leapt at her with its fangs bared. She raised her staff desperately, but her mana was exhausted and she didn’t get enough time to take a mana potion. At the last moment, the beast stopped mid-air, jerked to the side as if slammed by an invisible hand, and impaled itself on the scarred warrior’s blade instead.

The warrior blinked in confusion as to why the monster would jump at his sword, but didn’t question it in the heat of the battle. He ripped his sword free with a snarl and pressed forward.

Arthur’s fingers flexed subtly at his side, his telekinesis wrapping around another faltering fighter. To anyone else, it looked like luck. But it was these subtle interventions that kept Finn’s group alive without revealing his presence.

The piles of monster corpses grew higher, only to dissolve into drifting motes of light. What remained behind were cores, crystalline lumps glowing faintly in the dark tunnel. They rolled across the floor, scattering around the fighters’ boots, piling in corners of the tunnel.

But no one dared to pick them up now. The horde pressed too tightly, and a single moment of distraction could be fatal.

Finn roared as he carved through another wave, wind screaming around his blade. His body was slick with sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead, and blood seeped from a cut across his arm. Still, he pressed forward, refusing to yield an inch.

Arthur saw this and thought it was enough and decided to intervene.

The monsters continued pressing from all sides of the group, when Arthur finally moved.

He inhaled, drew his Chi up from deep inside, and let it burst outward in a violent wave. His aura flared around him like a tidal wave, unseen by the fighters around him but slamming into the monsters like a crushing weight.

The effect was immediate.

The horde froze mid-charge. And the beasts started trembling, their glowing eyes wide with instinctive terror, as if they had seen an apex predator locked onto them.

The warriors and mages blinked in shock, confusion breaking across their tired faces.

“What… the hell?” one mage whispered.

“Don’t question it!” the scarred warrior barked, his voice hoarse. “Cut them down while they’re dazed!”

They didn’t hesitate. Weapons clashed with the monster’s bodies, and spells erupted. Dozens of monsters fell in seconds, their bodies crumbling into motes of light and leaving behind a flood of glowing cores that clattered across the tunnel floor.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the beasts snapped from their trance. But instead of pressing forward, they roared in unison, their cries sounding more from fear than rage, and retreated back into the tunnel. Their claws scraped against stone as they vanished into the depths, leaving nothing but silence and the ragged breathing of the two groups.

For a long moment, nobody spoke.

Then, the scarred warrior dropped to one knee with a grunt. Another mage sat heavily against the wall, her staff clattering to the ground. One by one, the others collapsed to the floor, falling on their butts, gasping for air and wiping sweat from their brows.

“What… just happened?” one of the people from the elf’s group  asked, his voice still shaky.

“Monsters don’t retreat like that,” another muttered. “Not unless…” He trailed off, shaking his head, but everyone understood what he was going to say. Unless there was a stronger monster the hoard shouldn’t have retreated, but they couldn’t see any signs of a stronger monster appearing which confused everyone even more.

The elf pressed his blade into the ground, using it to steady himself as he stood tall. His pale eyes swept the tunnel, he was suspicious, but he found no answers. “Whatever it was… it is to our advantage, but we should move from here quickly.”

“Yes,” the scarred warrior nodded in agreement, though his tone was heavy with exhaustion.

A few minutes passed as they caught their breath, letting their strength return. Slowly, inevitably, their gazes all turned toward the glittering heaps scattered around them. Monster cores, maybe hundreds of them, glowing softly in the dim tunnel.

The elf finally broke the silence. “So, how are we going to divide these?”

Finn glanced around at the others, then raised his voice. “Let’s just divide them equally among us.”

The scarred warrior rubbed a hand over his bleeding side, scowling but nodding. “Fair enough.”

The elf tilted his head, regarding Finn for a long moment before giving a slow nod. “Agreed.”

The others muttered their assent.

And not a single one of them noticed Arthur standing just a few feet away in the shadows, invisible to their senses, his presence smothered by the sword spirit.

***

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