Kayl and his team clashed with the Alpha Rotling, their Skills flashing through the air, lighting up the dying forest in bursts of blue and red.
Blades slashed and guns fired, spells cracked the ground, but the creature refused to stay down.
Each time a limb was severed, it writhed and regrew—thicker, meaner, and faster than before. Blood hissed as it hit the ground, then congealed and returned to the Rotling's flesh like liquid muscle memory.
"Cut off the arm!" one of the Hunters shouted.
"No! Aim for the core!"
But none of it worked.
This was no ordinary dungeon spawn. The Alpha Rotling had evolved—just like a mini-boss, or worse, an actual boss. Its regenerative abilities were outrageous, almost as if it had adapted to counter their every move.
As if it had been programmed to endure the exact damage output of whoever attacked it.
Unless…
Unless someone had a Skill that could overwhelm that regeneration entirely.
