Gabriel took out the last spike from his side with his bare hands, throwing it on the ground and successfully shattering it with the butt of the Sk'rayr spear.

Wheezing, he gave a nasty one-eyed gaze over the Tyrant. His left eyes had been perforated and had yet to heal. He could not afford to cast another Helping Hand so soon. He needed all the possible Mana to finally enact his strategy.

The mayor, too, had started slowing down. Gabriel thought that he might see him heaving if the monster could even breathe, but it clearly didn't.

"It seems," started Gabriel, and before continuing, he took in a long breath, "that it's about time I ended your suffering."

"Funny. I thought it was me, the one who was supposed to say that phrase," he answered.

"Well, then I stole your script. You certainly shouldn't clichés. Damn, you've used that many of those horribly scripted soldiers. It would have been better to leave them be. But I guess you felt lonely?" Gabriel moved toward him as he spoke, "Tell me, aren't you ready to join your wife in the afterlife? Though I guess you would just reincarnate respawn somewhere in a few months or so, how does it really work?"

"You're talking to get closer to me and call my scripts clichés?" The Tyrant snorted but continued, "Let me amuse you then. f I was to die. I would once again reappear in this place, or my spirit might switch over that of my Royal Guard. To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I never died here, but when I was still a Boss and got defeated, I respawned back in the Boss' throne room after a few months. I guess we should wait and see."

"So you're ignorant of something too, what a nice feeling!" Though he felt it futile, given the mayor's absurd age and experience, he knew that making his opponent angry would just come in his help in this situation.

"Come to think of it? Did your wife end up in the Dungeon too? Or was she saved because she died before the Singularity exploded?" For the first time, the Tyrant visibly winced.

Got you.

"I was wondering what role she had taken, you know… once in a few minutes I'll have killed you, I thought," Gabriel shrugged, "I don't know, maybe find her, have a little fun with her, hoping she's not turned into one of yours, though I guess, with this hard, mighty stick," he raised his weapon higher, "I could even rape a Tyrant. So, any guesses?"

The Tyrant's posture shifted entirely. In a moment, it was ready to be on the attack, rage in abundance, his dark shroud bubbling from the gaps in his frame, and his pitch-black orifices.

Gabriel dashed forth as the armored beast opened his mouth wide and released a pillar of darkness at him.

It was an optimum tactic to keep him away, but Gabriel was ready. He moved with Meridians active and amid Burst Attack enhanced steps.

He was behind the monster in three movements. Next, he knew, he was feeding Mana to the spear, every point of Mana would make the Sk'rayr spear an absolute unit of solidity for each attack, and he brought it down right on top of the already cracked ankle. It shattered, the recoil sending shivers down his arms, but a huge smile of satisfaction on his face.

The Tyrant lost his stability, toppling over his leg, face forward. He started struggling right away, futilely. As strong as it was, it was heavy too. Thus his agility was abysmal.

Gabriel did not let even a second got to waste. He started hammering with maximum power blows on the back of the giant's neck.

The cracks appeared on the third blow. Gabe had barely four points of Mana left, so he stopped using the spear, like one, and, turning it to the butt, started whipping it like a pike. Putting his back into it, Gabriel brought the now bow-like weapon over the monster's head and started hammering it with his regular strength.

The Tyrant trashed about, but the man did not give in. On multiple occasions, the Tyrant managed to get up, but Gabriel took that change to attack his other leg once again.

The Tyrant turned and waved his arms around and tried to grapple him, but it was useless. Gabriel was in a world of his now. His full will focused on taking down the monster in front of him. Two months of frustrations, whether they be real or not, he had lived them, and he was using them as fuel to give the beast the lesson it deserved.

"Stop, Gabriel, stop!" The mayor implored, "I'll give you whatever you desire!"

"Not good enough, dude. I just want to get out of here." Gabriel said with nonchalance as he hammered once more on the back of its neck; the giant armored monster had fallen again.

Blow after blow, Gabriel hit, relentless. The Tyrant kept pleading, uselessly. His back and head looked like a mosaic of dried up clogs of dirt. The cracks were deep. Any moment now, and it would shutter.

"Gabriel! Please! Spare me! Or spear me! Whatever you desire!" The Tyrant shrilled in a falsetto voice that-

What?

What was going on? The Tyrant was cracking jokes? While dying?

Gabriel stopped for a second, then he shook his head and continued. He was even starting to be short on breath.

If he had access to his full Energy and Mana pools, he would have finished it in a few hits, but he had to maintain something for emergencies. He could go dry.

Then finally, the armored nape and the part covering the upper-back of its head shattered. Exposing the Tyrant's soft tissue.

With a smile of manic satisfaction, Gabriel used one last point of Mana and one of Energy and drove his spear all the way through the monster's head.

The Tyrant fell forward, emitting gurgling sounds, it started whispering…

"Gabriel… I'm sorry for all I've done to you… I had to train you… it was the only way in which I could, in which I could leave this place… I'm sorry and… and… thank you… thank you, Gabriel Walker, thank you."

Gabriel couldn't help but scream back, "Thank you for what, you filthy two-timing bastard?"

"Thank you for…" A dark shine enveloped the monster. It exploded out of its armor joints, of the cracks on it, out of its eyes, mouth… it darkened everything for a second.

Then Gabriel felt it. The mighty blow to his sternum sent him flying toward the chambers; he lost the grip on his spear, which was sent flying away from him.

After quite a few yards, the man rolled on the floor, finally stopping. Gabe doubled over, vomiting red and coughing blood. Breathing was hard.

What the-

He immediately cast Helping Hand on himself.

Gabriel felt a "thud" coming from the floor in front of him. He had yet to raise his head for the intense coughing, it was the sound the Tyrant's steps made, but it was much, much lighter.

The man, his mouth trickling blood on the ground, bloodshot eyes, raised his head to look at his assailant.

"...thank you for scratching my itch. Damn, it tickled." The Tyrant started laughing like a madman.

In front of him stood a much smaller version of the Tyrant, no… slimmer, it was still twice as tall as Gabriel, but its body was agile now, lithe. It had almost the same features now, but he lacked the tail with a much smaller frame but had a lance and a shield now. The weapons and shield were attached to his arms; his digitigrade legs looked to be frightfully fast and snappy as the mayor-Tyrant hopped on the floor as if testing his new body.

"Gabe, Gabe, Gabe… my friend." He said, shaking his head and hopping now left and right. "It's been thirteen thousand years since I last took this form. I need to warm-up to it a little. Want to help me?" Before he had finished speaking, the Boss ran at him, reaching him in a second.

"Damn…" Gabriel croaked with a broken voice as the monster kicked him up in the air, then with a roundhouse-kick, the Tyrant sent him off in the distance.

Once again, Gabriel flew a dozen yards, finishing his trip in the air by rolling on the floor multiple times before he stopped.

As he mindlessly tried to stand up, Gabriel felt empty. He felt ready to drift away. What more could he do? He had given it his all and failed.

But something squirmed in its chest, not letting him go. Liz?

Liz? Is that you? He thought weakly

Lizzy… I need you…

The mayor was advancing slowly, testing his long lance in the air.

With his second-last Mana point, Gabriel activated Analyze. He had to know about what he was dealing with.

Armored Tyrant King (Hidden Boss)

Race

Armorid

Level 122 (Sealed)

Class

Doom King - Knight Form

Level 120 (Sealed)

Element

Dark

Dark - 4

Pools

Sealed Life

Sealed Energy

Sealed Mana

263

157

175

Attributes

Sealed Affinity

29

Ray of Darkness

Sealed Alacrity

84

Teleport

Sealed Power

79

Rock Control

Sealed Recovery

33

Shroud of Darkness

Sealed Resilience

63

Armor of Rock

Sealed Stamina

44

Form Reborn

"Are you analyzing me? Why I'm flattered," said the mayor, bringing his lance to his chest.

"You said that I was pitiful at scripting, well, now how can I trust your judgment? You couldn't even recognize me faking!"

Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle. "Never judge a book by its cover, eh?" He spat blood on the floor. "I guess I've still got much to learn."

"And I guess you won't have much time to do so." It was just a second for Gabriel's tired eyes, and the Tyrant was upon him.

...

Gabriel blacked out for a moment after the impact.

When he opened his eyes, he was being held up over the Tyrant's head.

The monster's lance had pierced through his sternum. Gabe's eyes were unfocused, gargling blood. He said something extraneous even to himself as he gripped the lance in his hand at the base.

The Tyrant watched his laughable attempt with glee as he lowered him so that he could look directly at his dying face. Taking in the last of his breath, probably.

Gabe closed his unfocused eyes, only to open them once more. It was at that movement that with what remained of his willpower, his hands tightened around the lance, and the Tyrant stopped smiling.

Gabriel gripped tighter and tighter, flaring the last remaining amount of Energy in his Meridians and activating Burst Attack.

Gabe's fingers started sinking into it, cracking the stone-like armor skin the Tyrant was made of. The Tyrant would retaliate, he knew, but he didn't care, not know, not anymore. He was probably already dead. As the Tyrant prepared to strike him with a shield bash right on the face to end his suffering, the lance shattered.

Yet the shield bash arrived, Gabriel was hit in the head and was sent, once again, flying through the air. What saved him from certain death were the last vestiges of Meridians giving out and the fact that as the lance broke, Gabe started falling. Thus he took on his face only the edge of the shield, whose power was greatly reduced.

The man hit the ground with a smile; then, everything became dark.

***

Feldriell stood there, looking at his broken hand-lance for a few seconds. His gaze moved to the immobile human on the ground. He was not breathing.

The length this feeble creature had forced him to go was baffling.

He closed the distance to his body. If he still had his hand-lance, he would be poking it full of holes.

Instead, he just looked at him, taking as he placed his foot on the man's right shin, slowly pressing on it, reveling in the wet sound it made.

Feldriell cackled, shaking his armored head.

"Apprentice and Master, uh? You didn't even ask for my name once. While I proposed to help you, what would you have done if I just tortured you until your mind broke forever?"

"Humans…"

"You just should have taken my place here, that was all. At least you would have died. I can't even do that."

When had it been the last time that he felt like crying? Feldriell didn't know. Too long for sure.

He had just killed the Herald. Their own Herald. Yes, he could finally admit it. It had been thirteen thousand years since he had died. He could accept that he was just a spirit now. He had been dead for too long.

Feldriell raised his head. The chambers' ceiling had entirely disappeared, darkness reminding him of an empty night sky was all that he could see. The walls were mostly gone, as well. Soon it would be time for the pavement, then what would happen?

The chamber was tied to his Mana, his might, like everything else was in the Challenge. Yet, it would disappear if he managed to remove the seal from his soul.

Squishing the leg, which had already been reduced to pulp some more, he finally closed his eyes and fell inside his personal world. Feldriell quickly manifested his conscience by his soul. He, like every thinking individual, had his own view of their soul. The way he visualized it was a house, his house, his temple. It was perfect. The only thing it lacked was his wife…

Luckily she was not there to see what he had become. Luckily she had not been trapped inside of the Dungeon. She had died before then. It was the only thing he was grateful for, to the Old Gods. To those distasteful bastards, they had abandoned their people in the time of most need.

Leaving those thoughts be, he focused on studying the seal.

After a while, Feldriell was confident he could break the seal. It was simple, and yes, shreds of it would remain, weakening his full form, but it was better than nothing. If he was lucky, he would recover more than ninety percent of his might.

In his eyes, the seal looked like a web, a bare web. It did the minimum requirements and was working out of the sheer amount and of Mana, which was powering it.

Two months though. I wonder what he would have been able to accomplish with proper teaching. He would have probably acquired his Skill all the way to the Legendary rank, he mused.

As he mustered the last shred of his Mana to poke at the spirit juncture, he was confident that given time he would even-

Feldriell felt something was wrong. Simultaneously, the spirit imbued in the web of his Mana shined for an instant.

He propelled his conscience back to the chambers.

The man was up and moving.

"What!?"

The man had traversed the chambers, he walked on all fours, well thanks to him three, his body shined from his Recovery Skill, Feldriell could see the light dimming as its effect took hold, it had just been cast.

He stood there, immobile, looking at this man moving like… like… A lizard! He realized.

At that moment, he started dashing toward him. The mayor had no idea what was going on, but he could not allow him to grab the spear. That thing was too powerful, much harder than his armor. Given in the hands of a properly powerful individual, he was confident it would damage even his non-sealed body-armor.

Yet the thing was already there, spear almost in its hands!

Teleport! He willed.

But nothing happened; Feldriell opened his eyes wide. His last points of Mana, he had let it dissipate while in his soul realm, using it to weaken the seal.

As he got out of his stupor, the thing, its face morphed into one of clearly inhuman expressions, was already shooting for his face.

***

Varcivald's four circles barrier had been reduced to three in a matter of seconds. The third one wouldn't last much longer.

"Are you done!?" He shouted.

Behind him, the staff members managing the Pearl-harness had been working nonstop to redirect the ample flux of pure Mana, which fed the cities' braziers and all the other utilities and house furniture, to discharge instead from a pump.

Marcle had crunched the numbers and realized that they could shoot pure Mana directly on the assailants if they managed to rein it in.

Like that of the Rapids of Mana, Pure Mana caused Mana poisoning, which, if used absorbed in good amounts, was lethal.

Of course, the higher the target's Level, the more Mana it took to give it a form of Mana poisoning; however, there was nothing to worry about. The amount the harness cleansed from the Singularity was more than enough to poison dozens of Tier 3 or 4 individuals to death.

"I need more time!" Marcle shouted back.

The Giant, tall as his nephew, Sigmund, and just as slim, was a red-head like most of his family though his crest, was bathed in white.

"There is no more time! We've given you all we've got!" Vald shouted back.

The barrier's third outermost circle broke. The shield shrank in size but held on.

If it wasn't for the very fact that each and all the workers of Pearl-harness were magicians though almost none were fighters, the shield would have broken in seconds. It held on this long only because they were supporting Varcivald with empowering spells.

Someone among them had the Raid Leader Perk, a retired Giantess named Kilda.

Varcivald snorted. I should not have joined them… he thought, shaking his head. Oh, who am I kidding. He added with a smile, recalling what had brought him there.

As soon as he reached the Pearl-harness, Varcivald saw it under siege by the Priests of Lore. There were at least thirty of them. More were directed on the site.

The edifice holding the harness had been sealed shut with layers upon layers of what looked like unadulterated turtle carapace. The Priests had chosen the frontal entrance to burst through. It had the widest space and probably was the less exposed place. The Pearl-harness was a delicate device that held a lot of pure Mana. It was better not to treat something of that caliber too roughly. At least it had a violent reaction.

Varcivald had to enter, though, and the best way was to do so by announcing his presence.

So he jumped on the building, reaching it from the opposite side, where the Priest had yet to reach, and climbed on top of the work tower hoping to find a weakness; and find it he did.

An unprotected transparent windshield did not have the carapace's protection. It faced the massive midnight-blue Singularity. It was probably there so that even under assault, the scientist would always have the ability to look at the black pearl. Anyway, though not made of turtle carapace, the shield was reinforced by magic and probably even more resistant.

As Vald dropped down from the roof and stood by it, he immediately started knocking on it. The scientists were all holed up in the observation room, which seemed to serve as a panic-room too, and they jumped in surprise when they heard the sound.

"I'm looking for Larry!" he shouted, "Is Miracle there?"

Miracle was indeed there, and after he had his confirmation, he enacted the measure. He was far too late already.

He had given Commodo two Gemini-sheets of paper one had written Dungeon on it, the other had written City.

A Gemini-sheet was the device he had used to warn the kids' family to recall them through their summoning stones. They were sheets of paper made by the trunk of a rare, thus expensive, tree whose twin seed of origin had been thrown inside an even rarer random portal for the City of Gods. The City where all those who reached Tier 7 or Legend Class were invited to meet the Golden People.

Once cut in parts, Gemini-sheets remained connected by magic, and whatever happened to a brother-sheet happened to all the others.

In this case, Vald had written the two words on two different sheets; then he had ripped them both in half, the words appeared with exactly the same handwriting and color on top of the ripped halves, then he gave a pair to Commodo, and kept the other for himself.

Ripping, once again, the one with the word Dungeon on it, he communicated to them that they could go on with Commodo's plan.

After that, one thing led to another, and he decided to help them, quickly convincing them of his genuineness.

Fast forward to the present moment.

The second circle of runes adorning the barrier wavered out of existence.

Varcivald looked behind, a little on edge.

"Maaaarcle, any moment now, I'm only one hundred and fifty years old! I'm still too young to die, you know!?"

"Almost done!" Said Marcle, together with the team busy modifying the controller.

Come on! Come on!

Varcivald, hands felt like burning as he pushed the collective Mana of all the magicians behind him to the barrier. The Elf was no kekkaishi yet, being, by far, the best mage among them, Kilda, a Giantess really full of resources, had decided to use her Mana funneling abilities to give him all the fuel he needed to use his tools.

And yet, the barrage of Skills was not stopping.

The frontal entrance's carapace had long since shattered, all that remained was their shield, and as Varcivald stood there, almost laying on it, he could clearly see the abominations, the Priests Spirit constructs, ugly demon, and absurdly beautiful angels, hitting, clawing, and slamming in front of it.

However, as he focused his gaze on the distant red of the sun, leaving the place to the much gentler rays of Luna, he knew there was no chance they would get out of there alive.

In front of the dawning sun, the huge frame of, judging by its size, a Legend Tier Dragon was soaring in the sky and heading in their direction.

Varcivald sighed loudly; at least I warned them.