Looking at the lifeless body, its head severed clean, blood pooling beneath like a bucket knocked over, something inside me twisted.
My breath hitched, my stomach churned. That was Lyra. Gone. Just like that.
Homosetis.
Its skin was raw and bare, sickly pale, like someone had peeled off its fur to reveal nothing but muscle and sinew beneath.
Its arms hung too long, ending in sinewy cords that coiled and uncoiled like living whips. Its back was hunched, legs bent inwards like it had evolved to crawl or pounce rather than walk.
At first glance, it resembled a corpse brought back to mock the living, but it was far worse than any mindless undead.
I knew the stats. Clara knew the danger.
"Back!" she hissed, yanking Sylvia behind her.
Her right arm was still trembling. Bruised and broken from earlier. Yet she stood in front of us like a shield. Her dagger was out. The edge already wet with her own blood.
The elves around us didn't move.
They stood frozen, their brains still trying to piece together the horror. A moment ago, they were worried about Zephyr. Now Lyra's head was gone, her body discarded like trash.
"MOVE!" Clara's voice cracked. "Its arm moves like a whip!"
Too late.
Homosetis tilted its head. Not a full swing, not even a lunge, just a flick of its wrist.
CRACK.
Darren, Sira, and Zephyr were launched like ragdolls. Their bodies slammed against the stone wall, pinned like insects under a collector's glass.
A choked grunt escaped Zephyr's mouth before his head lolled forward. Unconscious. Or worse.
But the Homosetis didn't follow up. No.
Its eyes, half-lidded, almost drowsy, fixed on Clara.
It knew.
It knew who was the strongest.
The monster didn't move like a beast. No frenzy. No random pouncing like the ones we faced in the dungeon so far.
This one... calculated. It assessed. An apex predator with logic.
"This one's different," I muttered, stepping back. "It's not like the others."
Clara didn't look back. "Young Master... search for an escape. The longer we fight, the more likely we die."
Even in her state, she was calm.
Sylvia's eyes were wide but sharp. "Homosetis," she said quietly. "S-Rank strength. High-tier dungeon variant. They don't hunt in packs. That means..."
"This one is territorial," I finished. "A guardian-level threat, and we walked right into its lair."
I activated Perception immediately. "Where's the exit?" I murmured.
Nothing.
Just walls. Four of them. Perfectly smooth. No cracks. No light from the ceiling. Only the dripping blood of Lyra and the sound of my own breath.
Sylvia activated hers as well. "Where... where are we?" she whispered. "This doesn't match any structure we saw before. There should be a hallway—!"
"There's not," I said, eyes narrowing. "Only walls. We've been cut off."
My mind spun.
Teleport scroll? No good. It could only send the user to somewhere they could see. Clara used hers before in the Sanctum to reach the hallway just outside.
But here? If we all see only death and stone, there's nowhere to jump to.
We're boxed in.
Sylvia looked at me. "What are our chances of taking down a Homosetis?"
I hesitated. "...Maybe 30%. If we fight together. If we're lucky."
Clara could hold it off, but she wasn't in top shape. And even in her best condition, maybe she could last thirty minutes. That's generous. Against something that's only slightly weaker than berserk-stage Varkis, but with actual reasoning?
I paired Inspect with Perception, hoping for anything, any clue.
Wait—
"Scaleblends," I muttered. "There are Scaleblends hidden all over the room!"
A shiver ran down my spine.
"Clara, beneath—!"
Too slow.
A rustle. A crunch.
"—you!"
Something small but vicious latched onto her ankle. A Scaleblend.
Clara flinched.
Homosetis didn't waste the chance.
Another whip of that grotesque arm. It didn't even look like a strike. Just a lazy flick.
The whip coiled around Clara mid-air and snapped her sideways like she was a doll. Her body slammed into the wall.
Her dagger clattered to the floor. Her armor was split open across the chest and shoulder, skin torn, red blooming from the inside out.
Blood.
Clara dropped. Slumped. Barely moving.
I froze.
Sylvia gasped beside me. "Clara!"
The monster didn't care. It was already walking toward her. Each step slow, deliberate. Its bloody, whip-like arm dragging along the ground.
This wasn't a fight.
This was an execution.
And we were next.
Sylvia stepped forward to reach Clara, her mind clouded by the sight.
I grabbed Sylvia by the collar and yanked her back, just before a scalebent's talon nearly carved her throat open. The blade in my hand found its neck before I could even think. It collapsed into a sickly heap.
"This chamber is full of scalebents," I muttered, rushing toward Clara.
"Stay close!"
Clara was lying there. Barely conscious, blood blooming under her. I dropped to my knees, tore off my coat, and pressed it to her wound. She groaned in pain, eyes fluttering like candlelight in the wind.
Clara groaned in pain, her breath ragged.
Sylvia uncorked a stamina potion and tipped it into her mouth. She drank, barely.
Then—
Ssslick.
That thing…just licked her blood from its whip-like limb.
"Hhkhhh...scree scree!"
The Homosetis laughed like a lunatic choking on its own joy.
Two more slithered out of the far corridor, their limbs twitching with madness.
Sylvia's breath hitched.
"Lord Hugo…" she said, her voice cracking, "What should we do? There's… there's no exit. We can't outrun them…"
I stood.
Drew my sword.
"We fight."
I focused inward, summoning mana with the intent to amplify my stats. I initiated the circulation, expecting the familiar surge.
But—
Nothing.
My veins refused. Like they were locked in place. My mana churned, coiled, and stopped.
"What…?"
And then I saw it.
The Homosetis. Their grins.. gone.
They were looking at me like I was death incarnate.
No. Not me.
Behind me.
A tug at my wrist.
I turned.
Clara. She was trying to stand.
"Clara, don't. Stay down," I said, catching her with one arm. Sylvia supported her too, panic dancing behind her eyes.
But Clara was talking.
Her words… what?
"My lord… the Gyrfald family has three sword techniques," she murmured, like she was reciting from scripture. "Created by your ancestors… passed down through generations. The second… is Gyrostatism."
Her words barely a sentence.
"What the hell are you talking about—"
She went on.
"This technique allows the user to manipulate others' mana circulation by exerting an antisense rotational force. Everyone in its radius feels like their mana is stuck. Hence 'statism'. But it's not stuck… it's clashing. With the user's force. That's why… it's called Gyrostatism."
Sylvia blinked. "Why… why are you explaining this now?"
My skin crawled.
"Wait... then someone's using it—?"
Ding.
Inspect's window popped open in front of my face.
But before I could read it, Clara, bleeding and pale, grabbed my collar with what strength she had left and yanked me away from the wall.
CRRRASSSH!
The entire wall behind me exploded into rubble.
A voice like gravel broke through the smoke. Calm. Deep.
"My lord, the force might have hit young master Hugo."
Hair perfectly in place, not even a speck of dust on his collar, even in this damned 19th-floor hellhole.
Sebastian.
Another voice groaned behind him.
"What kind of wall breaks with just a single kick?"
Crimson eyes flickered through the mist. His tone, annoyed. Casual. Insulted by the architecture.
Sebastian bowed slightly. "Most kinds? And this is just an A-rank dungeon. We can't expect much."
Everard clicked his tongue. "Never thought I'd step foot in an A-rank again. Disgraceful."
"Sylvia!"
That voice...
Orion.
He rushed past Everard and Sebastian like the world didn't exist and took Sylvia into his arms. She didn't move. Too stunned.
He didn't even spare those man-eaters a glance.
But the Homosetis that laughed like predators a minute ago...
They were shaking.
Trembling like mice caught under moonlight.
Everard's gaze found me. Sword in trembling grip, posture wrecked. I probably looked like I'd lost a brawl with a bookshelf.
He smirked.
"Kind of disappointing," he said. "If you were going to stir up trouble, you could've at least done it on the 21st floor."
Sebastian knelt beside Clara without a word, his movements sharp and precise.
From the folds of his coat, he retrieved a small glass vial filled with a shimmering green liquid. As he uncorked it, the familiar chime of Inspect echoed in my mind.
[Aetherbloom Elixir – Grade: A+]
Sebastian's jaw was tight as he glanced toward Everard.
"My lord. We'd best wrap this up. She needs immediate attention," he said, his voice composed, despite the urgency.
Everard didn't speak. He turned instead, his eyes falling on the three Homosetis still lingering near the far end of the chamber.
Despite their twitching limbs and the pitiful tremble in their postures, they hadn't run. Even now, terrified, they held their ground, defending what they considered their dominion.
Everard took one slow step forward.
And the entire dungeon seemed to flinch.
I just stood there, jaw slack, breath shallow. Watching them step through the dungeon wall like it was paper.
Nothing made sense anymore.