The party having recovered a small portion of their strength, began the walk down the wide stone staircase. A feeling of overwhelming dread hung in the air. The Red Bulls had been together for several years, and grew quite close. In less than a day they had become strangers to one another. Brite would tell you it was thanks to Dokja, but the truth was much more nuanced than that. Brite's lack of leadership, and Flower's enabling of it only created a band-aid. The cracks and dysfunction were still there, and Flower's abrasive personality especially towards Sara only added to the issues. Dokja, while not innocent in his part, was more a light that illuminated the already existing problems.
The party reached the base of the stairs, and took a moment to appreciate the splendor of the boss's door. It was a massive double door, with a brass ornament over a pitch black frame. These doors are both a sense of pride, and a warning that what lies beyond is certain death for the ill prepared.
Dokja gave it a once over and pushed open the doors. It wasn't that he wasn't impressed, but the doors stood in the way of his goal. The rest of the party looked nervously at each other before following Dokja inside.
The inside was massive, and really hammered home for Dokja that this was a world of magic. Science would tell you that a room of this size can't exist based on the Dungeons layout. The inside was like a giant cave. If not for the torches lining the walls. The room would be covered in complete darkness. The entire room was rugged stone, much different from the clean cut stones that make up the corridors of the higher floors. Based on the books Dokja read, the deeper one goes in a Dungeon. The more bare bones the corridors and boss rooms look.
Brite was the first to notice something was wrong. "Guys? Where's the Goblin King?"
As if on cue an ear splitting roar rang from above. The group fell to their knees in agony. Dokja looked up to see the source, but was met by darkness. The torches were barely enough light to see around themselves. It fell far short of reaching the ceiling. The roaring continued to shake the room, and disorient the party.
Brite in desperation shot a couple steel arrows at the ceiling. The sound of metal hitting a hard substance that was clearly not rock. Served to add another terrifying element to the already frightening predicament. In Dungeons, it's rare that you'll encounter many large winged monsters. Bird, bat, and insects are normally all you'd find. However in the lower floors Griffins, giant birds, and Halos become a scary new threat. There is however one more creature that calls the lower levels home, and they are the Dragons. Very few things in this world are avoided at all cost, but fighting a Dragon is high on that list. Even for Obsidian ranked adventurers it's considered risky. Dragons on the weak side are Platinum, and that's when they're kids. Adults are Diamond and Obsidian ranked. Based on the roar even Dokja could tell this was an adult. Now they all just had to hope it was a Diamond level.
After what felt like a hellish eternity, silence filled the room. Normally this would mean the threat has left, but when dealing with a Dragon. Silence means the predator is about to attack.
"Man if only we had some li…" Dokja was unable to finish his thought. A massive fireball illuminated the room revealing a Fire Dragon.
The Fire Dragon was easily north of fifty feet, and was covered from head to toe in bright red scales. It's said that a Dragon's scales are nearly impenetrable. His claws were longer than Grant who stood a respectable six foot eight. He wouldn't even come close to halfway. The Dragons teeth were just as long if not longer than the claws, but looked a hundred times deadlier. Its eyes soulless and feral put into perspective the level of screwed they were.
Flower grasping for straws said "M…Maybe it's friendly? I've read in several books that Dragons are known for being extremely intelligent. Some even referred to them as regal."
Grant, being more realistic, asked "Any of those books refer to Dungeon Dragons that way?"
Flower didn't need to answer. Even Dokja had read about the difference between Dungeon and free roaming Dragons. Everything Flower had said was about free roaming, but every account of Dungeon described them as vicious and blood thirsty savages.
The Dragon let out one more massive roar, and then in one swift motion spun swinging its tail at blistering speed. Brite, Dokja, Flower, and Grant were all either far enough away or fast enough to dodge. Sara wasn't so lucky, she took the smack head on and was flung violently into the wall. Blood exploded from the impact, and it seemed all but certain she was dead. Flower rushed to her side, and began to administer Vine recovery spell. Brite lost his composure, and charged the beast in a blind rage. The Dragon seemed to actually be amused. Grant tried to stop Brite with his Earth magic, but the Dragon in a single swipe of his claws, dismembered Brite. Dokja hadn't moved, his flow state had been shattered by the sheer immeasurable power of this foe. He could only stand by helplessly, as his comrades were being massacred one by one.
The Dragon, while savage was an apex predator, and sensing Sara was still alive made a b-line for the injured necromancer. Flower couldn't do anything, it was taking all she had to not fall apart. She loved Brite, and hoped one day to settle down with him. She had to do her best to push past the grief. She needed every ounce of focus if she wanted to save Sara.
The Dragon closed the distance in seconds and was rearing up to dice up Flower the same way it had Brite.
"AHHHH!!!"
The attack did hit, but at the last moment Grant used his magic to push the girls out of the way, but in doing so his left arm was caught by one of the claws. His severed arm flew high into the air and landed in front of Dokja
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck" Dokja repeated, panic coursing through him like lighting.
Dokja thought about how completely out matched they are. He felt embarrassed for thinking he was something special. He couldn't believe he ever thought he was the protagonist. He's not some hero in an isekai. He's the reason the people who believed in him are going to die.
While Dokja struggled with his fear and self loathing. Grant was doing his best to keep Flower alive. The stump where his hand used to reside was gushing blood like a fountain. His vision was blurring, and his breathing was becoming more and more haggard. Through it all Grant never wavered or gave an inch to the beast.
"Dokja! Get your head out of your ass and help me! If you don't, Sara and Flower are going to die!" Grant screamed
Dokja heard Grant, and he wanted to move, but his body wouldn't listen. The fear he felt overpowered his urge to help his comrades. Grant wasn't dumb, he'd been an adventurer for sixteen years. He wasn't surprised that a greenhorn on his first mission staring down a Dragon froze. Still, he needed Dokja's help or all of them were going to die. Flower was wobbling from over exerting her magic, Sara looked one wrong move from death, and he was losing blood at an alarming rate. Dokja was the only one healthy enough to fight.
"I get it kid. This is your first mission, and things haven't gone the smoothest. But you have to get it together. We're all terrified, we just lost our leader, Sara's at death's door, and Flower is almost out of magic. I'd say we're probably dead no matter what, but that's even more reason to fight. If you're going to die, then die a warriors death that you can take pride in. Die fighting for the people who have stood by you!"
Dokja slapping himself in the face activated a void on the Dragon's right side and blasted him with multiple stone spears. The spears shattered on contact and did zero damage, but it took the Dragon's attention off Grant. This allowed him to grab Flower and Sara and get away from the Dragon.
"Great job kid! Now keep his attention for a bit longer, and I'll help you put this bastard in the ground."
Dokja wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to do that, but figured spam attacking him was probably the best bet. The attacks did little to hurt the monster, but it did buy the time he needed. Grant came from the Dragons blindside. He unloaded a salvo of spells. Each one sounding catastrophic, but in reality doing zero damage.
Grant, avoiding the Dragon's tail, called out to Dokja. "Um, I know I said I'd help you kill this thing. But I'm going to be honest with you. I don't know how to do that. You got any ideas?"
Dokja felt the feeling of panic once again return. "Fuck, if you don't know than I sure as hell don't know. Um, just spitballing, but we could attack its asshole."
Grant hated that he was even considering the suggestion. While true it's the only unprotected area of a Dragon. It's too disgusting, and Grant felt they hadn't fully exhausted all their options.
Dokja wasn't as optimistic as Grant. He threw some of his strongest attacks and didn't even scratch the creature. Dokja's brain was running a mile a minute for anything to even slow the Dragon down. He thought about the attack he used on the Orc. He created hundreds of voids surrounding the monster and tore it to shreds. Dokja wasn't confident the attack would work, but that wasn't even the biggest issue. He had no idea how he did it the first time, let alone recreating it.
Dokja tried to make the spell to no avail, and Grant was running around the room, just trying to stay alive.
"Hey Dokja! Any chance you'd want to help me?! I've lost a lot of blood, and brother I can't see straight!" Grant pleaded
Dokja, trying to concentrate, responded "Give me a second, I'm trying to figure out how I did that spell that killed the Orc. I doubt it'll work, but it's better than nothing."
Grant wanted to protest, but Dokja had a point. At this point they were definitely going to die. So, may as well try something crazy.
"Alright fine, but could you make it quick?! I'm tired and feeling kind of faint!" Grant said ducking just in time to avoid a tail whip.
Dokja tried and tried, but couldn't get the spell to work. The most he conjured was ten, and they were only by his side. He tried to remember how it felt. He focused as hard as he could, and something began to nag at him. The power he's been using and the power he used then felt completely different. He couldn't place how they felt different though.
Grant was struggling to stay ahead of the Dragon. He was ducking and rolling and running as fast as he could. Blood shot from his wound leaving an easy to track line. Grant could feel the icy grip of death. He'd lost more than a fatal amount of blood. It was through sheer force of will that he could keep fighting. He'd been trying to use his magic, but in his weakened state had lost the ability too. He thought about the life he'd lived and the memories he'd made. He thought about the girl he left in his home town, and his promise to return and marry her. Several years back he found out she had moved on and married a merchant. Up to that point he'd never really thought about regrets. He always figured he'd return after completing some crazy dangerous quest. He'd be a Platinum or Diamond rank, and she'd still be there waiting for him. Instead he's thirty-one, single, a Silver Rank, and about to die. If he wasn't running for his comrades' life, he'd have had a hearty laugh. Here at the end, all he had was regrets. Still, he wasn't bitter or anything. He'd lived an exciting life, and the memories and friends he's made. They're what made life worth living. But he's given all he's got, and it was time to say goodbye.
Grant stopped running and turned to face his friends and said his farewell with a smile. "Flower…Dokja…Sara… thank you for giving this old man a wonderful life."
Grant was incinerated by the Dragon's flames. He didn't scream in pain, or even lose his smile. He kept on smiling as wide as he could till he breathed his last.
Flower in her despair screamed "You can't leave us Grant! We need you, I need you!"
Sara was still out cold, and that was probably for the best. She wouldn't have the stomach for what's been happening. Dokja felt his stomach doing cartwheels. It was taking a genuine effort to not puke. The smell of burnt flesh and fabric filled the area. It was so pungent that Dokja could taste it. The taste reminded him of burnt meat. He hated that a small bit of nostalgia creeped in his brain.
Flower, who up to this point had done her best to keep it together had finally broken. She lost her will to fight and live. She was crying and wailing uncontrollably. This didn't go unnoticed by the ferocious beast. It turned to face the weeping woman, and for a moment looked slightly disinterested. It seemed that Flower's condition was so bad that even it didn't find her worth killing.
That moment was nothing but a passing hope. The Dragon charged the exhausted woman. Dokja sprinted to protect Flower, he was determined to make it. He failed to save Brite, Grant, and to protect Sara. He wasn't going to let Flower die. Dokja made his peace that Flower would probably hate him. He knew it was his fault they died, and Sara got injured so badly. It was his fault Flower in the span of less than 24 hours lost her family. He had to save her, even if she hates him, even if Sara hates him. He needed to save them.
Dokja was able to get within feet of Flower, but just as he was about to lunge forward. Dokja was hit by a flying Sara and one of Flower's vines. Watching from the ground, Dokja was helpless to save Flower.
Flower looked at Dokja who had a desperate and anguished look. She couldn't help but smirk. Dokja and her never got along, and Dokja never hid his dislike of her. She couldn't blame him. She was never what people would call friendly. Still, to see him want to save her. It made her feel genuinely happy. Flower thought about her childhood, and how it shaped the woman she became. When she was really little, she was her parents everything. They fawned over her, and treated her like a princess. She was a well behaved and good kid. She awakened her magic at fifteen, and that made her the envy of her village. She was a natural, and quickly became the obvious strongest in her village. She loved the attention, but never let it change her. When she was fourteen she began dating her childhood best friend. The first couple years were great, but as she got stronger and he fell further behind. His jealousy began to rise to the top, and soon he became verbally abusive. Flower didn't want to be a burden or appear weak. The village had become reliant on her strength, and she couldn't let them down. After several months she finally dumped him, and assumed he'd bad mouth her to his friends they'd be jerks. She didn't expect him to get all his friends to spread lies that she was cheating and had had sex with all the boys. They even coursed other boys to say they too had fucked her. She vehemently denied the accusations, but with so many guys saying the opposite the village chose to believe them. Even her own parents believed the boys over her. Her father, who was her hero, disowned her. Something broke inside Flower that day. She tried so hard to be what everyone wanted, but they threw her away without even verifying the claim. They wanted a monster, well she was going to give them one. She left the village and never returned. A few months later she heard about a plan to attack her home town, and rather than help them. She watched from a hill that overlooked the village. Not long after that she met Brite and they created the Red Bulls. As the years went by she wondered if she made the right choice. As she faced her final moments. She came to a conclusion, she made the right choice not saving them. Not because she's heartless, but because she would have never made the friends or seen the world that she did. She wondered if Brite and Grant were happy to have her? As she looked at Dokja, she hoped that this loss wouldn't consume him. She learned that being consumed by hate only wastes the precious little life we have.
Flower quietly said "Don't waste your life on…" Before she could finish the Dragon's claws sliced through her like a hot knife through butter.
Blood splattered all over Dokja and Sara. Sara got the majority of it, but Dokja's face got a decent soaking. Dokja's emotional limits were broken, his physical limits were broken, and his will was broken. He was done, he didn't want to fight any more. He didn't want to live anymore. He got up and walked to the middle of the room, and stretched out his arms awaiting death. He waited and waited, but death didn't come. When he opened his eyes he saw the Dragon gearing up a fireball. Its target was Sara, and he couldn't tell her to move. She was still out cold from the tail whip.
Dokja didn't know what to do. He was frozen by fear and indecision. The cracks in his psyche were becoming full on breaks. He began hyperventilating, his heartbeat raced, and sweat began to pour profusely from his forehead. The room began to spin, and his vision became fuzzy. Before he knew it everything went black.
The Dragon released his fireball. "BOOM!!!"
The Dragon saw no reason to believe the attack failed, but felt he shouldn't let his guard down until he confirmed the human was dead.
When the smoke cleared, the Dragon's anxious feeling was proven correct. Floating between Sara and Dragon with a dome like blue shield was Dokja. His eyes were glazed and distant. His movements are precise and robotic. It was like his body was running on autopilot. All that was still missing the strangest part. Dokja was using magic different than his own. His magic is void magic, but this was more spatial magic.
The Dragon undeterred swung his massive claw, but again Dokja easily stopped it with a single finger. It was like the Dragon couldn't get close to him. Dokja never taking his glossy eyes off the Dragon gave a small smirk.
The Dragon for the first time this fight, and possibly the first time ever spoke. "What the Hell are you?!"
"Me? I'm nobody special." Dokja said his smirk fading
He reached out his right hand, and sent a pulse straight into the beast. For the first time the Dragon bellowed in pain. I flew back slamming into the wall, leaving a giant crater from the impact. The walls and ground split and cracked. The door that had been keeping them trapped inside. Bent and contorted until they flew into the stairs leading to the floor above. The devastation was enough to have taken out a small village, and Dokja was clearly holding back.
Sara in all the shaking regained a bit of consciousness. Just enough to see Dokja creating lightning bolts, fire balls, and earth spears. The problem was he was creating them from thin air. She couldn't figure out how he was doing it. Even if Dokja was told the wrong magic, and he had spatial magic or conjuring magic. This was magic fit for the gods, or at least the legendary mages of yor. She thought Dokja reminded her of a story she'd read as a child. She couldn't remember the name, but she remembered the story made the main character out to be a villain. She wasn't able to ponder long, her body was still trashed. She blacked out soon after awakening.
The Dragon, having learned Dokja's power, went all out and released a flame attack hotter than any he'd used prior. Dokja was again able to block, but in the moment of distraction the dragon smashed Dokja's ribs with his tail. Dokja flew and smashed into the wall. Blood shot from his mouth, and he needed a minute to regain his bearings. The Dragon wasn't gonna let him have any time, and stomped on Dokja. Dokja let out a whimper, and when the Dragon removed his foot Dokja lied motionlessly in a foot shaped crater.
The Dragon looked pleased with himself, but paid the price when a massive chunk of wall flew out and smashed the beast in the face. The Dragon fell to the ground and let out a pained roar. Dokja slowly climbed out of the crater, and raising his mangled left arm. Pulled massive spiky rock from the ceiling, and dropping his arm sent the spike careening down onto the Dragon and piercing the Dragon's scales.
Dokja wouldn't remember this later, but he learned that a Dragon's scales get weaker the weaker they and/or their magic gets weaker. Dokja's attacks were doing massive amounts of damage. The dragon's MP was far from depleted, but his HP was getting pretty low. Dokja fell to a knee and blood vomited as he himself was reaching the end of his strength as well. Dokja had somewhat regained consciousness, but not enough to take back control. It was more like he was a passenger, and someone else was driving the body. He hadn't realized it, but in the state of exhaustion he was in he was literally killing himself with each spell he used. Dokja got a lucky break that the spike he dropped on the Dragon had hit a vital area. He'd only need one maybe two attacks to finish the beast. The problem was he didn't have even one attack left. His breathing was shallow, and his body wasn't responding. He couldn't even tell if he was upright, on his knees, or on the ground.
He could hear the Dragon struggling to its feet, and he was screaming at his body to move. The best he got was looking up one more time and seeing the Blood Red Dragon standing triumphantly over him and Sara. Dokja's head dropped and the scene once again went black.