The final chamber was vast, a hollowed cathedral of jagged black crystal, the walls veined with pulsing veins of red light.
The boss waited in the center.
Bloodmaw Tyrant.
Taller than two men stacked, plated in black bone, with a jaw like a nightmare and a long, spiked tail that dragged deep grooves in the crystal floor. Its eyes burned like molten gold as it stepped forward, every footfall sending a dull vibration through my bones.
The system didn't need to tell me this was trouble.
Kazuo gave the order. "Frontline with me. Rear casters, spread out. Healers, stay moving. Everyone else, you know your roles."
I nodded, grip tightening on my sword. My heartbeat had already picked up.
The Tyrant let out a roar that rattled my teeth and charged.
The first clash was thunder. Kazuo met it head-on, his greatsword ringing as it bit against the Tyrant's plated forearm. I moved for its flank, Rift Step snapping me into position as I slashed across the softer joint behind its knee.
It turned, tail whipping around, catching two clan members and sending them flying into a crystal spire. They didn't get back up.
"Focus!" Kazuo barked.
We pressed, cutting, stabbing, dodging, but every hit we landed was met with something worse. The Tyrant fought like an apex predator, calculated violence, no wasted movement.
It caught Kazuo mid-swing with a backhand that sent him sprawling. Blood splattered the crystal. He rolled to his knees, but his left leg buckled immediately.
"I'm out" he growled, eyes flashing with frustration. He staggered back, weapon still in hand but no longer able to stand in front.
Reina slid in to fill the gap, daggers a blur — until the Tyrant's claw smashed into her side. She hit the ground hard, unmoving.
Something in me snapped.
I moved without thinking. Rift Step carried me inside its guard, Venom Slash carving a deep line up its ribs. Blood, thick and dark, poured over my arm.
It roared, swiping down. I stepped back just in time for the claws to miss my face by inches, the wind of the strike slamming into me like a wall.
Two more clan members tried to flank, the Tyrant spun, tail smashing them both aside. A third screamed as its jaws closed around him.
Now it was just me.
My breathing slowed, focus narrowing. Blood Scent painted every damaged plate of its armor in my mind, highlighting weaknesses.
We traded blows, my blade finding soft spots, its claws finding my flesh. Rapid Healing kept me upright, but I could feel my reserves dwindling.
I ducked under a swipe, Rift Stepped to its back, and drove my sword deep into the base of its neck. It roared, reared up, and I clung to it, stabbing again and again until the blade snapped.
I hit the ground hard, ribs screaming.
The Tyrant staggered, bleeding heavily now, but still coming.
I grabbed a fallen spear, braced and waited for the lunge. When it came, I stepped aside at the last moment and drove the spearpoint up under its jaw. It shuddered violently, then collapsed, its body twitching once before going still.
The chamber fell silent except for my ragged breathing.
A crystal chest materialized in the center of the room. I limped over and threw it open.
Inside lay a sword, long, slightly curved, its crimson-red blade etched with faint runes that pulsed faintly in time with my heartbeat. The hilt was blackened steel wrapped in dark leather.
[CrimsonFang]
AttackPower: +120
BonusEffect: On successful strike, restores 5% of damage dealt as health. Damage to bleeding targets increased by 25%.
Kazuo limped forward, leaning heavily on his sword. His face was pale, but his voice was steady.
"Take it" he said. "You kept this raid from turning into a slaughter."
I looked at him for a moment, then grinned. "Don't mind if I do."
I lifted the Crimson Fang. It felt... right in my hand.
Balanced.
Hungry.
As we made our way out of the dungeon, I could feel the weight of it, not just the sword, but what it meant.
I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was starting to win.