Tobias's jaw tightened, his knuckles white on his weapon.
The air in the chamber felt suddenly colder, the strange markings on the walls seeming to leer at us.
"We move carefully from here on out," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "No more mistakes."
As we went deeper, the air itself changed. It was no longer just cold; it was thick, a damp, cloying blanket that smelled of deep earth and something older, something rotting.
The flickering torchlight seemed weaker here, struggling against a darkness that drank the light.
The shadows on the rough-hewn walls didn't just lie still; they seemed to twitch and writhe at the edge of vision.
No one spoke. The only sounds were the careful scuff of our foot.
Every step was a deliberate act of will, a descent into a belly that felt increasingly alive and hungry.
The tunnel opened abruptly into a cavern so vast the ceiling was lost to an ocean of blackness.
Tobias raised a clenched fist, and we froze as one.
"Stay close," he breathed, his voice barely disturbing the oppressive silence. "This feels different."
He wasn't wrong. This silence wasn't empty; it was a weight, pressing down on my eardrums, making my own breathing sound like a gale wind.
Evelyn's staff glowed with a soft, desperate silver light, a tiny lifeboat in an infinite dark.
Lily nocked an arrow, the creak of the bowstring obscenely loud.
"Whatever's ahead, it's not going to be friendly," Lily whispered, her eyes scanning the impenetrable gloom. "Judging from the goblins earlier."
Marcus smirked, a flash of white in the dimness, his daggers catching the light.
"Good. I was starting to get bored for a moment."
Then it came. A low growl, so deep it was less a sound and more a vibration that traveled up through the soles of my boots and into my bones.
"Formation," Tobias said, his voice impossibly calm.
We moved like parts of a machine. Tobias a solid wall at the front, claymore held ready.
Lily and Marcus flanking him, a poised arrow and twin blades.
Evelyn and I at the rear, her staff brightening, my fingertips buzzing with contained lightning.
The growl came again, closer, followed by the crunch of heavy, deliberate footsteps.
From the deepest shadows, they emerged.
Four of them. Hulking monstrosities that stood seven feet tall, their bodies grotesque mounds of knotted muscle under mottled, scarred hides.
They carried weapons of brutal simplicity: massive axes and clubs that could pulp stone.
"Minotaurs," Tobias muttered, his jaw clenching so tight I heard the grind of his teeth. "Stay sharp. These aren't like the goblins."
"But what are something like this doing in a goblin dungeon?" Lily asked, her voice tight.
"I don't know... something isn't right," Tobias replied, his eyes never leaving the beasts. "I heard they rarely appear in dungeons. Their ability is 'Absolute Immunity.'"
"A mage faces one, it becomes immune to spells, and everything a mage can do. A fighter, immune to weapons and strength, and everything a fighter can do. A summoner, immune to them and their summons. An absolute being, immune to everything, since something absolute can do anything. They can even gain immunity to something other than people or beings, it's just simply everything." He spat the words like a curse.
"Such shitty ability!" Marcus said.
"Yeah, but I think these would be less difficult that it seems" Tobias replied.
"Why?" Lily asked.
"For an E or D-rank like these, they only gain immunity to the strongest person present. Sometimes a high D-rank can immunize against the second strongest. That's the only thing that makes them manageable at this level." Tobias replied.
"Higher ranks... they immunize against everyone. No limit. Just Endless." Tobias said. "And S-rank and above? They're immune to everything, anything, and all things. Even before something could be 'conceptualized', they're already immune to it. And if something could somehow bypass it, they adapt. Instantly. Absolutely."
Tobias let his words settle for a moment, then he continued.
"The higher their rank the more stronger, smarter, faster, and absolute their immunity and adaptation becomes."
The lead minotaur roared, a sound that felt like it would shatter the cavern walls. Then they charged.
Tobias met the charge head-on, his claymore meeting the lead beast's axe in a concussive blast of sound and force that staggered me.
Lily's arrows thudded into thick hides, but the minotaurs barely flinched.
Marcus became a blur, his daggers seeking seams in the crude armor, drawing thin lines of blood that only seemed to fuel their rage.
"Allen!" Tobias shouted, straining against his opponent's immense strength. "Focus on the one in the back!"
I nodded, my focus narrowing. I raised my hand and let loose a bolt of lightning.
It struck the rear minotaur square in the chest with a deafening crack.
The beast roared in pain, staggering, a blackened scorch mark smoking on its hide.
But it didn't fall. Instead, its burning eyes fixed on me with a terrifying, intelligent hatred. It charged.
I dove sideways, the minotaur's axe cleaving the ground where I'd stood, the impact almost throwing me off my feet. Stone shards peppered my face.
"Allen!" Evelyn cried out.
"I'm fine!" I shouted.
The minotaur turned, slow and deliberate. I could see the scorch mark.
It had hurt it, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
They are immune to my lightning.
The realization was cold, clear. Tobias's explanation echoed in my mind.
'Absolute Immunity to the strongest threat.'
Does that mean I am the strongest here?
A slow, grim smile touched my lips.
Well, I expected that.
If they were immune, the stupid, logical thing would be to retreat.
But my power didn't follow logic. It transcended it.
The descriptions from my Awakening flooded back.
[Your lightning grows stronger in response to resistance, always surpassing, transcending, and overpowering any opposition.]
It saw immunity not as a wall, but as a staircase.
The first strike had been me holding back. It had met the immunity and started to climb.
The second strike had climbed higher. The immunity was still there, but it was straining, becoming less absolute with each passing second my power pushed against it.
I didn't need to break the wall. I just needed to step over it.
The minotaur swung its axe again. I stood my ground, not ducking. I grinned at the beast.
"Third time's the charm."
I didn't summon a bolt. I opened the gate. Just a little.
A torrent of blue-white energy, far beyond what I'd used before, erupted from my palm.
It didn't strike the minotaur; it consumed it.
There was no roar, no burn. The creature simply vanished, erased from existence the moment the lightning touched it.
The air where it had been shimmered with ozone.
"It looks like three strikes did the job," I muttered to the empty space.
But there was no time for triumph.
A deafening roar echoed as the final minotaur, the one Marcus and Lily had been harrying, broke away and charged straight at Evelyn.
She turned, her staff flaring as a silver barrier materialized.
The minotaur slammed into it. The shield held, but the force blasted her off her feet, sending her skidding across the stone floor.
Tobias roared, a sound of pure fury. With a final, Herculean effort, he cleaved his opponent in two.
He spun, his face a mask of rage, and charged the last beast, joining Marcus and Lily.
Together, they brought it down in a frenzy of steel.
Silence. Thick, heavy, and ringing with the aftermath of violence.
The only sound was their ragged, desperate breathing.
Evelyn pushed herself up slowly, her face pale but her jaw set.
"Is everyone okay?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Define okay," Marcus gasped, leaning on his knees, but a ghost of his smirk was there.
"We're alive," Tobias said, his tone grim as he wiped gore from his face. "That's all that matters."
He looked around the vast, empty chamber, his expression deeply troubled.
"This isn't normal," he said quietly. "Minotaurs… here? It's unheard of."
No one argued. The unease in the pit of my stomach had solidified into a cold, hard knot of dread.
We had survived. But the dungeon had just shown us its teeth.
Whatever was waiting for us deeper in was something far, far worse.