"Roar, roar, roar~"
A thunderous roar split the cavern air, followed by a deafening crash. A massive figure burst from the mine tunnel, revealing itself in full—the towering form of a beast unlike any mere monster.
It was over three meters tall, its obsidian-black scales gleaming with a metallic sheen, like enchanted armor forged by a Dwarf King himself. Crimson eyes, filled with primal malice, scanned the panicked miners scattering in all directions.
This was no ordinary creature—it was the menace plaguing Dwargon's mining operations: a Mutated Armored Tyrant Lizard, a B-rank monster born from an unstable magicule concentration deep underground.
Even from a safe distance, its sheer presence was suffocating. With a flick of its colossal tail—reinforced with hardened scales like layered mithril—it struck down a fleeing miner in an instant.
"Ahh! I don't want to die! Spare me—!"
But no plea reached the creature's heart. If anything remained inside it at all.
It grabbed the fallen dwarf with one clawed hand, lifted him like a ragdoll, and tossed him into its jagged maw. A scream echoed through the mines, ending in a grisly crunch. The other miners could only watch in helpless despair as the lizard chewed with audible, bone-snapping finality.
Escape was futile. Few among them had combat training, and none could handle a threat of this caliber.
"Monster! You'll pay for that!"
A voice cut through the tension like a blade. From the tunnel's edge, a squad of armed figures rushed forward—clearly not miners.
"It's the Subjugation Unit! Commander Krug is here!"
At the rear of the formation stood a figure apart, exuding cold composure—Granstar, draped in a traveler's cloak, eyes sharp with magical perception. He had foreseen the carnage moments before arriving, sensing the high-density magicules in the air that marked an aberration.
His azure eyes narrowed. The creature had devoured a sentient being right before him. He wasn't one to act on emotion—but even he felt a chill of disgust.
Commander Krug, the leader of the Dwargon Subjugation Unit, was visibly seething, his jaw clenched and eyes bloodshot. In all his years defending the Dwarf Kingdom, never had a monster dared such a thing.
"Form battle formation! First Shield Unit—form a vanguard and hold position! Second Blade Unit, wait for an opening to strike. Third Magic Unit—prepare tier-two spells, but do not fire until I give the order! Healing Squad—stand by and monitor injuries!"
"Yes, sir!"
Their movements were swift, drilled to perfection. Shieldbearers interlocked defenses and readied their stance. Warriors wielded greatswords and hammers, their equipment enchanted through [Blacksmith's Blessing].
"[Physical Boost]! [Fortification]! [Barrier of Stone]!"
Skills were activated in unison, layered defenses glowing across their formation.
"Raaagh!"
The Mutated Armored Tyrant bellowed, slamming into the frontline. A dwarf went flying—but another rushed to take his place without hesitation.
"You're not getting through!"
"[Titan's Cleave]! [Piercing Fang]!"
Weapon skills clashed with the beast's hardened body. Though their blades didn't pierce deep, they halted its momentum—buying time.
Behind them, spell circles bloomed to life.
"[Flame Lance]! [Wind Blade]! [Magic Net - Bind]!"
A coordinated bombardment lit the chamber with flashes of elemental fury. Magic struck true, coating the creature in fire and concussive force. Smoke and dust filled the air.
Granstar stood unmoving behind the formation, observing like a sentry of fate.
Their tactics were textbook. Their unity admirable. But there was a flaw—a fatal one.
This beast was a B-rank threat, its core mutated by unstable magicules. Commander Krug, even as a seasoned warrior, barely touched C+ rank in raw ability. Without outside help or advanced enchantments, this fight would end in blood.
As the smoke began to thin, Granstar stepped forward slightly, resting one hand on the relic at his belt—his custom-made Grade-B Teleportation Tool, the first of its kind in Tempest.
As Granstar had anticipated, the subjugation squad's barrage of attacks had only slightly damaged the B-rank Armored Dinosaur. Its hide, reinforced with natural magicules, had absorbed most of the blows.
The beast roared, its bloodlust ignited further by the sting of pain. Its eyes locked onto a cluster of dwarven soldiers, and with a guttural snarl, it unleashed a skill.
A torrent of compressed magical energy surged from its maw—a variant of Magicule Breath, a common ability among high-ranking magic-beast types.
Commander Krug stared in disbelief. Their enchanted blades and mid-tier attack skills had barely chipped away at the creature's defenses.
Seeing the imminent threat, Krug barked his orders.
"Front-line squads, raise your shields! Activate your defensive skills—now!"
"BOOM—!"
But the dwarves closest to the creature had no time to properly react. The breath attack washed over them like a tsunami of raw force. Over a dozen dwarves were sent flying, many crashing against the stone walls of the canyon, their magic-armored gear smoldering.
Krug's jaw trembled. This was no ordinary B-rank monster. It fought with the instincts of an A-rank threat, possibly mutated by excess magicule exposure.
"Commander, at this rate, we won't last. Even if it costs us, we have to use that technique!" one of his lieutenants growled.
Krug clenched his fists, then nodded. "Do it."
He raised his weapon high and shouted to the remaining units, "Form up! Battle array formation—Pair Alignment Protocol!"
The dwarves didn't hesitate. They split into synchronized pairs and swiftly assumed a circular formation around the commander.
Each dwarf placed their weapon across their chest, and began to channel energy through their equipment—runed armor crafted in the Forge of Dwargon, tuned to military-grade magic arrays. Commander Krug stepped into the center of the formation, echoing their stance.
Runic patterns lit up beneath their feet, blooming outward in a geometric network. A massive magic array, clearly a product of ancient dwarven artifice, began to hum with power.
Granstar observed the unfolding scene with interest from a rocky outcropping. His cold golden eyes narrowed, catching the rhythm of the formation's pulse.
The magic aura was potent. Not something the Dwarf Kingdom had ever revealed in the canonical history he remembered from his past life.
"Fascinating," he murmured. "A hidden trump card, perhaps? Or a technique reserved for military use only… No wonder it was never documented."
He adjusted the grip on the B-grade teleportation tool hanging from his belt, wondering whether this battle would reveal even more forgotten mysteries of this world.