The cavern erupted into chaos.
The surviving centipedes surged up the walls, their scorched bodies glistening in the flickering light of the dying flames. Their hisses echoed through the chamber, a cacophony of rage and pain that sent shivers down Asher's spine. He tightened his grip on his water bow, his mind racing as he calculated their next move.
"They're coming!" Herta shouted, her hands already crackling with fire magic. She stepped forward, her usual bravado tinged with urgency. "We need to hold this ledge!"
Killa hefted his sword and shield, his expression grim. "Easier said than done. There are too many of them."
Kel's voice cut through the noise, calm but commanding. "Form a line! Ura, cover the left flank. Killa, hold the center. Herta, Asher—support from the rear. We can't let them overwhelm us."
Asher nodded, his heart pounding as he nocked an arrow. The centipedes closed in fast, their countless legs scrabbling against the stone. He could see their mandibles glinting in the dim light, their hollow eyes fixed on the group with terrifying focus.
The first centipede reached the ledge. Its massive body coiling as it lunged toward Killa. The warrior met it head-on, his shield slamming into its face with a resounding crack. The creature recoiled, but two more were already climbing over the edge.
Asher loosed an arrow. The water-infused projectile struck a centipede mid-body. It screeched and thrashed before collapsing. A system notification flashed in his mind—ignored. No time.
"We can't hold them off forever!" Herta yelled, launching a fireball into the swarm. The explosion sent several centipedes tumbling back into the pit, but more swarmed up to replace them.
Asher's thoughts churned. They needed a new plan. Fast. A flash of memory—sickle-like mandibles cleaving through his neck—made his stomach lurch. He'd led them here. He had to get them out.
Focus. Find a solution.
Using more Liquid Heat was out—they'd get caught in the blast. His eyes locked on Herta, firelight dancing on her hands reflecting off her mask. Then—an idea.
He activated his scan ability, focusing on the mask strapped to his face. The familiar hum filled his ears as data streamed in.
[Scan Complete]
Name: Miasma Filter
Quality: B
Description: Standard issue. Uses a blessed-element core to filter out miasma and low-level poisons
Asher summoned Themis, the tiny emerald-winged bird perched in his arm glyph. Firelight shimmered off its feathers as it emerged. Through their mental link, he urged it forward.
Scatter the poison. Now.
Themis launched into the swarm, scattering poisonous flecks like stardust. The centipedes reeled, their movements growing sluggish as the toxin took hold. They writhed, mandibles clacking uselessly, heads raised as they tried to snap at the darting familiar, only to inhale more poison with each strike.
It was working.
Asher fired arrow after arrow, no longer aiming for vital points—he didn't have the skill for precision, and it didn't matter. The poison had tipped the scales.
The tide was turning. The once-overwhelming swarm now stumbled forward in fits and spasms. The toxin wasn't fatal, but it was enough.
A centipede slipped past Killa, who was locked in brutal combat with another. "Hey, Veras! Watch it!" he called out, swinging his shield to intercept, but the creature was already lunging at Asher.
Time slowed.
A strange calm settled over Asher, sharp and cold. He didn't reach for his bow. Instead, he summoned the burning halberd wreathed in silver light.
It appeared in his hands, the tip already leveled at the charging beast.
As the centipede lunged, Asher braced the halberd against the stone floor. The creature impaled itself on the burning blade.
Flames erupted inside its mouth as Asher activated the weapon. The scent of scorched chitin filled the air. The centipede thrashed once, then collapsed in a smoking heap.
Asher released his grip. The halberd shattered into shards of silver light, the fragments dancing briefly before fading into the air. The centipede's body slumped to the ground with a hollow thud.
Asher stared at the smoking corpse. He'd killed monsters before, but this felt different. He hadn't planned anything, no aim, no strategy. His body had moved on its own, smooth and lethal, like the halberd had always been part of him.
The ease of it unsettled him.
Not the killing; he'd made peace with that long ago. But the instinct. The efficiency.
He flexed his fingers, trying to confirm they still belonged to him.
A hiss snapped him back. Another centipede crawled toward him, its mandibles twitching.
Asher pushed the unease aside. He conjured an illusionary double and stepped back, cloaking himself in a veil of magic that mirrored his image.
The centipede lunged.
In that instant, Asher summoned the halberd—this time inside the double. The weapon burst upward as the creature struck, impaling it clean through the mouth. Asher slipped from the veil, gripped the halberd's shaft, and ignited it, flooding the centipede's maw with flame.
He dismissed the weapon back into his inventory without a second thought.
Then he did it again. And again. Each time, smoother. Faster. Sharper.
At one point, a centipede lunged at him just as he dismissed the halberd. Without thinking, Asher thrust his empty hand forward and summoned the weapon mid-motion, driving it straight into the creature's open mouth.
The halberd's weight and reach made it powerful, but unwieldy, especially for someone of Asher's build. He'd trained with all sorts of weapons daily, as expected of a noble, and could wield them effectively with both hands. But in live combat, its size left him exposed between swings, forced to recover or reposition before he could strike again.
He'd learned plenty about those openings during his sparring matches with Kaira.
This technique changed everything.
He bypassed the slow, vulnerable resets by dismissing and resummoning the halberd mid-motion. No wind-up. No overreach. The weapon appeared only when and where it was needed. Pure intent made solid. A swing without recovery. A thrust without warning. The moment it struck, it vanished again in a dance of silver light and flame.
Asher wasn't the strongest, the fastest, or the most seasoned among them. But in that moment, even the veterans saw it: the boy they'd brought to carry supplies could hold his own.
Eventually, the remaining centipedes realized their meal was more trouble than it was worth and fled. The group stood in tense silence, waiting for another wave that never came.
Finally, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. The fight had drained them all.
Like a mother hen, Herta rushed to Asher's side, grabbing his shoulders and inspecting him with urgent hands. "Are you alright? Anything broken? All limbs intact? I swear I saw that thing eat you."
Asher blinked, then chuckled weakly. "It was just an illusion, my double. I used it to draw the attack and create an opening."
Herta narrowed her eyes. "Next time, warn someone before you do that. I nearly had a heart attack."
Asher gave a sheepish smile, like a child caught doing something reckless. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"I don't think I've ever seen illusion magic used like that," Herta added. "Melos has you."
The old, wizened mage chuckled. "I know of spells that create a double, but they're mostly used for parlor tricks. I never thought there was much practical use."
"There isn't usually," Asher said, his voice gaining some pride. "But if you combine it with a veil spell to go invisible, you can leave the image exactly where you were. Most people don't realize you've moved at all."
He'd often used the trick to confuse Kiara in sparring matches. It hadn't won him any fights but bought him precious moments to breathe.
Killa stepped forward, giving Asher a long look down his nose. Asher braced for the usual condescension.
"Nice move," Killa said flatly.
Asher blinked. That was... unexpected. Since the teleport gate incident, Killa had barely hidden his disdain. Asher had almost started to respect him.
"For a kid, at least."
Ah. There it was. Respect revoked.
After a break, the group shifted back to work. Ura and Kel were already dragging centipede corpses into a pile. Asher returned to his grueling task, well, not really, of storing them in his inventory.
After some discussion, they decided to call it a day.
One by one, they drew their teleport crystals. Each vanished in a brief flash of light.
Asher lingered, holding his crystal in both hands. It pulsed gently, welling with energy—until it shattered.
For a moment, it felt like gravity let go. He tumbled through space, not violently but weightless and strange, like the teleport gate before, but calmer and less wild.
Then came birdsong.
He opened his eyes to the warm glow of a setting sun, and the others gathered around the spot where he had placed the spatial anchor.
"That went better than expected," Herta said, brushing soot from her cloak.
Asher didn't answer. His eyes were drawn to the sky where the three moons began to show. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. He survived his first day in a dungeon.
His peace was disturbed by the sound of the system.
[Notice]
['Alice' has finished absorbing the 'Queen's Tear.']