Chapter 6: The darkest dungeon

"Is it here?"

The iron-cladded human warrior asked with his gruff voice, pointing his leather gloved finger to an opening on a giant slab of white stone. It must have been manmade, as the entrance was rectangular in shape and there were stairs leading down unto the dark unknown.

"Must be it, dare I say. Fits the description of the guild receptionist girl."

The tall and slender archer with pointy ears replied. She was an elf befitting of the stereotypical description of one: lithe-body but one good look would reveal that her muscles were well-toned, long golden hair accompanied her beautiful facade, and of course, a pair of leaf-shaped ears.

"I have bad feelings about this… dungeon… How come it just appeared out of nowhere?"

A dainty figure grasped the elf's belt. A cleric, with a pure white robe and a surprisingly extravagant staff of gold. She showed concern yet her voice was steady and calm - the sign of an experienced individual, always keeping an eye out for trouble and never underestimating any situation at hand. "A coin for your thoughts, sir Charlie?"

Charlie - a young ranger with an unusual weapon of choice and a multitude of bags and pouches and trinkets hanging under his green cloak, cracked an awkward smile. He crossed his arms and slightly shook his head:

"We should exercise extreme care for this dungeon. I have done some digging around the guild. It seems that these strange dungeons are appearing out of nowhere like mushrooms after rain. I heard the traveling merchant from Ibeirasia say that many adventurers were slain in these kinds of dungeons. It is highly dangerous… I assume…"

It was true.

Many dungeon entrances had appeared all over the world in a way never seen before. Some even located in urban areas causing chaos and indescribable terror to the commoners and civilians.

The guild had sent out multiple researchers along with adventurer parties to investigate, but it seemed that the dungeons were all too ordinary, almost similar to the ancient tombs and lost corridors from an era when the gods still roamed the land. 

And the dungeons were full of riches.

Gold. Gemstones. Weapons.

Trinkets and baubles.

Chests and coffins filled to the brim with coins and jewelleries and antiques.

These dungeons should have been overrun with greedy adventurers and even common villagers if not for its lethality. 

Many beasts and monsters guarded the dark hall and corridors. Blood sucking giant leeches, bone melting slime oozes, an uncountable amount of undead… One could lose their life to the horrid creatures in an instance. 

That was why the guild and most ruling governments had restricted entry to these dungeons, for the amount of foolish brawn-for-brain were plentiful, and as the death toll rose, so did the amount of monsters. Some speculated that the dungeons were … sentient and reacted to the influx of intruders, and as more and more lives were lost, the monsters grew stronger.

Elite mercenaries, high ranking adventurers and private armies were sent out to clear these unusual dungeons, and our band of merry adventurers were on the list, mostly thanks to the guild headmaster Liam Hazecrest's recommendation. 

After much thought and debate, the party had agreed on taking on the quest, and that was the reason why they were standing in the middle of a grassy plain, surrounded by nothing but tall grass, wild wheat and plenty of insects. 

"Conserve spells, Roselie, for the dungeon might run deep. Potions as well." Charlie remarked and steered his gaze upon the party's cleric. "We should retreat and regroup at the first sign of danger. Elluin, please lend us your eyes and ears."

"Well if you put it that way, Charlie, then how could I say no?" The elf archer smiled confidently

"Final gear check?" Harrison straightened his back and adjusted his shoulder pauldron.

Charlie nodded and began inspecting his equipment.

He was an adventurer, a silver ranked one at that. And he knew how vital it was to bring functioning gears to aid dungeoneering quests. If he could express it with a few words, he would describe the difference between a geared and a non-geared adventurer as life and death.

Charlie pulled the hammer of his handgun and checked its internal bullets chamber and holstered it after confirming that it was fully loaded with three cylindrical metal bullets. The gun was a unique design from Ballagrin the dwarven artificer, sold to Charlie for cheap with the condition that he must bring back material and field experience to aid the old dwarf's invention. Charlie was grateful, of course, for he was way more proficient with a gun than with a bow, but in a pinch, he could still impale a ghoul in the head with an arrow or two.

  Charlie tightened his small buckler on his left arm and readjusted the bracer on his right. He had made sure to sharpen the edge of the shield - for in close combat, it could easily be used as a blade. He was donning a full hardened leather armor, padded with thin metal plating around vital positions. It was heavy but he deemed it as very important. The leather and even the metal plating could not prevent a full power weapon thrust attack, but it could easily negate slashes and weak jabs. His role in the party was a support ranger, so he usually posted at the back of the team. Being able to survive an otherwise lethal slash was, according to Charlie, worth every coin he spent.

Charlie also remembered to check his five daggers on his torso, his hips and one in his right boot. He tapped the heavy pouch of ammunition to make sure he could easily reach it for quick reload and finally, he checked the magical bag of holding for the party's emergency potion stash, rations and other useful gadgets.

"I am fully equipped, dare I say. My arrows are still in the bag, right Charlie?"

"Yep. You can grab it yourself in a pinch, but call out to me when you run out."

"Looks like we are ready. Let's go… torches up!"

===

If it was not for the superior directional sense of Elluin Xilwynn, the party would have been lost in the increasingly puzzling labyrinth of a dungeon. The stagnant air that makes one feel breathless, the similar gray stone walls, the multitude of pathways and deadends… Charlie tried his best to keep his anxiety in check, but he felt claustrophobic as his chest tightened by the step and cold sweat had drenched his inner cloth shirt.

Harrison slammed the fifth skeleton into the ground with his giant axe before crushing its skull with his heel and dispersing the necromantic energy possessing it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary - for monsters at least. The party altogether had taken out 3 ghouls, 5 skeletons and a swarm of bats easily, albeit having to expend one exploding arrow to disperse the bats before Harrison's face was scratched to smithereens.

And the band of adventurers finally reached a circular room with nothing but a dried up fountain in the middle. Not counting the hall in which they came from, there were three paths leading away, all veiled pitch black. The ceiling of the room was unusually high, to the point that Charlie wondered how deep they had ventured inside. They were all tired already - both physically and mentally.

There was no way to tell time under a dungeon, especially when none of the party members possessed a luxurious pocket watch - a mechanical marvel, co-invented by a dwarf and an elf, a gadget that acts as a time teller yet fits inside the palm of the hand. 

As a ranger, Charlie could easily read the position of the sun or the moon to approximately guess the time, yet buried under a mountain-worth of dirt, his skill set would be next to useless. But he could tell that his party had explored the dungeon for more than an hour.

The stress built up slowly - encounters after encounters, battle after battle, the eerily quiet traversing period was also nerve racking. Everybody had to constantly keep an eye out for hidden traps on every surface they could see - an action frequently neglected by the inexperienced adventurer. The guild's adventurer handbook had stated clearly that traps were one of the leading causes of premature extraction for many parties, mainly because one of their core members was maimed beyond saving or lethally poisoned and soon to perish if left without proper care.

Stress - "What's a bit of danger?" Some might say.

While it's true that most adventurers were somewhat desensitized and fairly resistant from such ailment, it still builds up nonetheless. And when it reached its peak, everything would crash down on the fools that ignored their own boundaries. 

When it rains it pours.

What would happen if a horde of undead attacked then? What if the only light source among the dungeoneers were to be blown out?

Overconfidence will always be a cold-bloodedly vicious yet unseen killer. 

But it would be unfair to disregard the veterans and the cautious.

Charlie and his friends quickly set up a campfire next to the stone fountain for a quick rest. He quickly whipped up a warm soup with the fresh ingredients he stowed into his bag of holding that morning. Good food, good company, warmth and light amidst the darkness… truly one of the most potent remedies for adventurers - it was a chance for the party to steel themselves against the upcoming unknown terrors.

"I keep having some… strange feelings while walking between these corridors…" The elf archer whispered, laying her bowl down. "It feels like… this dungeon was not made by the usual creatures of intelligence…"

"How so, sister Elluin?" Roselie wondered. But it was just an act out of courtesy, just to keep the conversation going. At that moment, the cleric girl was gingerly massaging her feet. She was smaller than her companions, so she had to uncomfortably jog to keep up with their pace - this resulted in some painful blisters. Roselie made a mental note to buy a better pair of boots, preferably one with quality liners. After all, she was now an archdeacon - she could and should take advantage of her ranking and be less stingy of her own coins.

"Well… Most dungeons were built with a goal of sort in mind, for example, some were made to keep prisoners, some were shelters for the rich, some were fashioned into tombs and mausoleums… Yet… dare I say… this dungeon does not serve any purpose. We did not see any coffins or any jail cells… I could not recognize the architecture… Neither elven or dwarven…"

"Could this be a distraction? A false dungeon of sorts?" Harrison chimed in. "I've heard of an infamous dungeon built by a general. He led many battalions of pursuers inside the dungeon to entrap them. He purposefully made the dungeon to be as confusing and maze-like as possible… of course it was pitch black and riddled with traps and hidden passages, not unlike this one."

Charlie quietly listened in while sipping his can of soup. He agreed with his friends about the uncanny feeling from the dungeon - for the first time in many months, he felt extremely anxious. They have encountered a few monsters, disarmed a few traps… but it was too easy for a dungeon as enormous as this.

Almost feel like we are being lured into a trap…

But he did not voice his concern and tried to bury it.

"It won't do us any good thinking about something we don't know." Harrison grunted "Let your mind rest, enjoy some top notch dungeon cooking before we continue. We just need to get rid of the dungeon's place of power and all is good."

"What's that?" Charlie asked.

"You don't know, sir Charlie? Every dungeon that is infested with monsters must have been intruded by a malevolent source. We just need to find it, destroy it somehow and it will stop undead from rising. And vice versa, if the place of power is not destroyed and living beings lose their lives in the dungeon, the undead raised from their corpse will be increasingly stronger. That is why most dungeon raiding parties must have a follower of faith to stop the bodies from turning immediately after death."

"That is… scary to think about…" The ranger sighed.

"Man!" Harrison suddenly exclaimed "I can not overstate how good your cooking is, Charlie! Oh man, it made me remember the time before I met you two… When I have to endure this elf's cooking everyday to save up money… oh!"

Elluin the elf archer sprang up as Harrison jokingly raised his arms to shield, but the warrior did not receive any punch or slap. Elluin's ears pressed tightly against her head, she signed to her allies to quiet down and be ready - to which the rest of the party immediately reached for their weapon in a blink of an eye.

A second. Two seconds.

Elluin casted her eyes - blessed with dark vision, towards the three pathways leading out of the circular room. However, the room was too big for her to clearly see the entrances, even with the glimmering light of their campfire. Her ears shifted slightly to catch any sound… But she did not hear anything, and that startled her.

It is too quiet… I can not hear the wind blowing or water dripping…

Oh no…

The elf archer crouched down, grabbed a burning stick from the fire and hurled it with all her might towards the opposite direction.

As the remaining ember of the stick lit up from the impact, it revealed a frightening sight.

Undead.

As far as the eyes can see.

Horde and horde of zombies, skeletons, ghouls… all quietly stared at the party.

Panic. The party panicked.

Charlie threw a torch to the hall where they came from just to solidify his fear: it was also blocked by an uncountable amount of undead.

He froze in despair.

They were trapped inside the room, under tons and tons of dirt. There was no way out except through the horde.

His heart beated erratically, triggering his fight or flight mode. His palms were sweaty, his jaws involuntarily trembled. He begged for his friends, for someone to act, to order him what to do. He knew he must do something, or they all will become one with the darkness.

It was the second time that the ranger was within death's grasp. The first time was from the three goblins by the Smyrcymenai river, from whence he was still an inexperienced rookie. 

And now, more than six months of adventuring and traveling, having encountered many a battle, Charlie once again found himself in a precarious position.

The horde from both sides of the room finally moved, breaking the deafening silence they have kept up until now. The rattlings of the skeletons and their teeth gnashing together made a terrifying sound which sent shivers up Charlie's spine. They were out for blood. 

It was mere seconds away until the ranger had a breakdown and tried to rush through the horde, which would undoubtedly be the end of him. No human could pass through an undead horde without being cut up into a thousand bits. 

Just mere seconds.

Until a brilliant light bursted out from behind his back and brought vision back to him. Roselie the cleric with her golden staff raised high and her eyes closed shut.

She chanted and let loose a powerful ray of daylight, a beacon of hope.

The obscured horde of undead reeled under the holy evocation, some raised their rotting arms to block out the light from their nonexistent eyes, some screamed out terrible roars from their trapped souls. 

And the party was suddenly revitalized, such was the power of a cleric, the power to embolden the will of her allies.

With her squeaky and modest voice, Roselie yelled out to her friends and also to herself.

"Don't give up yet! These undeads are nothing to our party, to the power of our combined arms! Stand your ground and show these living-loathers what we are made of! Let my goddess protect you, for you will serve her by sending these poor souls back to where they should be!"

And she slammed her staff end onto the stone floor, its pure vibrating sound emerged and physically affected the horde, halting their advance towards the party.

And the bright light on top of the staff dimmed for but a second, as it was divided in three and enveloped the cleric's friends, granting them the strength to steel their will once again.

"We owe you one!" Elluin chuckled and immediately perched onto the top of the fountain head as she pulled three arrows from her quivers and nocked them onto her Anór - her magical longbow. Befitting its namesake, meaning "the sun", the bow suddenly flickered into flame from the will of its owner.

The elf archer released the arrows and three simultaneous explosions shook the whole dungeon.

The smell of burning flesh and bone permeated the room soon after, but Elluin did not stop. She could not stop. If she wants to join hands with her companions once more, she must push herself to the limit. Ignoring the searing pain from the bowstring cutting into her fingers, she repeatedly rained down arrows onto the encroaching horde.

Not to be out performed by his old ally, Harrison downed a vial of yellow stamina potion and let out a fierce warcry. He revealed the magical axe, glowing with icy flame as if anticipating the slaughter, and dashed straight into the fray. The iron-cladded warrior stopped short before the horde, planted his foot steady and pirouetted a perfect circle, slamming his axe through the wave of undead. Then, in a swift motion, Harrison pulled back the axe for momentum before completely cutting through the undeads he caught before. 

He wanted to follow up on the rest of the horde but the sheer number of them made him hesitate. And it was enough for three arrows to find their purchase on his less armored thigh. The pain hit him soon after, and the burn meant the arrows pierced his skin. Harrison quickly stepped back to the fountain, for he did not know if the arrows were poisoned, he could not risk losing consciousness in front of a horde of walking dead. 

Charlie took but a moment to regain his composure. He was scared before, but he knew he had to act.

His companions were strong, he was fairly capable.

And the only way out was to fight.

And so he fought.

Roselie might be able to destroy a large chunk of these undead… We must buy her time!

Charlie raised his gun and released a volley of bullets. Even though the metal bullets were small, its speed and damage was enough to dispel the necromantic energy possessing the monsters.

That's two.

The ranger quickly reloaded and fired thrice more as the loud gunshot echoed around the room. He must keep them at bay or his party will be overrunned.

A pale skinned creature bent down into a leaping position and stared at Charlie, its abnormally long tongue drenched in saliva. The ghoul jumped through the horde and attempted to grapple the ranger, but he was ready. Charlie ducked down and rammed the sharp-side of the buckler into its abdomen and held it up with one arm, not letting it realize what he was going to do, he forced his gun barrel into the toothy maw of the creature and shot twice before throwing its limp body overhead. His shoulder groaned and slightly trembled, but he took out the ghoul quickly without spilling blood.

Every action must be precise and without openings, for the undead were vile and will overwhelm any adventurer given their number. Charlie took a glance behind to find his companions thinning out the impossibly numerous horde. He must keep up too, for the sake of the party. 

He lost count how many times he pulled the trigger, his right hand numb from the kickback and his neck bled from a nasty arrow. He was lucky to be alive, if the skeleton had been more precise, it could have pierced his throat and drowned him with his own blood.

Charlie threw his left arm into an arc and bludgeoned a skull, cracking it and letting the foul energy escape from its vessel. His shield edge had blunted and caked in fat and rotten flesh. He swiftly crouched and took on a sword strike with the buckler. The undead were not weak by any means, and their strike, especially with weapons, were lethal. The strike sent a numbing wave all over his arms and back, but his legs were still fine. He kicked the ground and pounced back away from the horde while simultaneously reaching into the bag of holding to retrieve a healing potion.

He was exhausted, and so did his companions.

Charlie could hear the breathless grunt Harrison made everytime he pushed himself to swing his axe. Yet for every skeleton smashed to pieces, another filled its spot, for every zombie violently disemboweled, another would bring their rotten arms to grapple the living.

Was there no more hope?

Charlie wondered, and he was pretty sure everyone in his party was pondering the same question as the undead piled up on the stone floor.

The smell was putrid, the smell of rotten flesh, foul blood and the sickening miasmatic aura that veiled the monsters.

Downing the bitter potion and feeling its immediate effect on his many cuts and bruises, Charlie shot down two more zombies before climbing onto the fountain, for the horde had overpowered him.

But he had yet lost all hope.

Charlie turned to the party's cleric, to seek affirmation, to reinforce his own resolve.

He thought of ways to divert the attention of the horde for at least her to escape, for she was the youngest and had the best chance to survive if the rest tried their best to hold back the horde.

Roselie was kneeling inside the fountain, under her an intricate sigil was drawn hastily with chalk. She was chanting nonstop since the start of the battle, but the loud growl and incomprehensible curses of the undead had drowned out her barely audible voice. And it seemed that she was reaching the end of her prayer.

"...By the benevolent gaze of Lady Lathander, the warden of the cycle, the tender of the sea of souls, heed my words foul creatures whose lives are false and betray the order. Stand back, for I am she who was blessed with the power to free your wretched souls."

Charlie had high hopes, he had expected divine intervention.

He had wished a miracle would happen before his eyes as the undead would be wiped out immediately.

Yet he knew it was a wishful thought.

The undead kept on pushing towards the fountain, forcing Harrison to stumble back. 

Dire is the situation huh. If I'm going to die in this dungeon, I'll at least take as many down as I can!

Charlie reached inside his bag of holding and brought out his prepared fire bomb, made of concentrated spirit and a flint.

As he was about to light up the rag, Roselie yelled out:

"We have to go deeper! Everyone! Follow me now!"

A direct order. An order that he had yearned for since the beginning. Charlie, Harrison and Elluin silently exchanged gazes for but a moment and quickly formed a position with Roselie in the middle and started to slowly penetrate the horde towards the three pathways which are entirely crowded with wretches.

And the undead did not attack them, in fact, those nearest to the party turned tail and tried to get as far away from Roselie's radiant light as possible.

It was almost as if she had casted a revitalizing spell on the party, as Elluin laughed out loud, albeit with her ragged tone.

The escaping undeads pushed back the attacking horde, effectively making a path for the party to rush through. Charlie heard Roselie chanted once again, this time in words of divine magic that he could not decipher. The further she chanted, the more the light on top of her staff brightened. And as she finishes her spell, a wave of brilliant light ribbons, riddled with ancient words and runes, lashed towards the horde blocking the exit and disintegrated the many bones and rotten bodies in their way.

But it seemed it was too much for the little cleric girl to handle.

The words of radiance gradually waned from her staff as actual vapor emanated from her robe.

Charlie did not hesitate and immediately grasped a fainting Roselie, whose body was abnormally feverish. He glanced behind to the plenty of undead mindlessly staring at the party.

No time to waste. He thought as he carried the cleric girl with both arms.

"The way is clear! Go go go!" Harrison yelled out, bringing his axe down on the last ghoul surviving.

"Charlie! You take her with you and stick close to us! I'll lead the way!" Elluin shouted out.

The ranger nodded and ran with all the strength he had left.

His breath ragged, limbs dulled.

Sweat drenched his under-armor shirts.

His ribs flinched in pain from bruises.

But…

Pain is good… Pain means that I'm still alive and kicking! 

Once again, he was reminded of his trust in his companions and the importance to party up while adventuring.

Without Roselie, the party would have become minced meat and soon to be raised as one of the monsters. 

Without Harrison, the party would have been swarmed practically immediately.

Without Elluin, they would have got lost in the dark dungeon.

Charlie bit his lips and ran, the echoes of footsteps, of metal plates grinding, of trinkets and baubles tinkling made a cacophonous roar throughout the narrow pathway. 

They have escaped with their life. For now.

===

Strapped between two stone walls and under miles of soil and rocks, the dungeoneering party had set up another firecamp to quench their exhaustion. 

It seemed there was an air duct above the stone ceiling, as the smoke did not gather to suffocate them - a random blessing amidst the chaos. Up ahead was a fork in the road, and for safety reasons, Elluin had set multiple primitive traps on the hallway to announce uninvited guests to the party. 

The elf archer gently brushed Roselie's hair, who was still unconscious, laying on her laps. A sense of deja vu suddenly hit her as she smiled and sighed out loud.

"She always pushes herself too hard for our sake."

"As is tradition… as is tradition…" Charlie chuckled, feeding the last piece of wood to the campfire.

"You too, mister eccentric human. Don't you dare think for a second that I did not notice you thinking of a way to sacrifice yourself for us to escape! My eyes are sharp, but my intuition is even sharper, dare I say!"

"Heh…" Harrison grinned at Charlie, who pouted and hugged his legs, resting his chin on top of his knees. 

The fire crackled, releasing a puff of sparks and soots rising onto the ceiling.

An unknown crash echoed from somewhere far away, resulting in an incomprehensible loud echo.

"Well… I think we can make it through." Harrison said, not stopping bandaging injuries on his thighs and ribs "I just have the feeling, you know. You can catch me paying for the whole tavern at the celebration tonight. Promise."

"Sure you will. I'll make sure you keep your promise." Elluin bared her teeth and playfully threatened to bite the warrior.

"Buuuut… just in case we ain't making it out…" The warrior continued "Charlie, I want you to know some secrets, something me and Elluin have been hiding from you. Both of you actually."

Oh?

"Yeah? I'm listening if you're willing to share. No promise to keep my mouth shut though."

"Mmm… We were actually unofficially married way before we met you two."

Harrison was confused and somewhat disappointed with Charlie's reaction.

His expression? Stone cold.

His surprise? Non-existent.

Charlie sighed and took a glance at both of his oblivious companions. They were expecting his reaction, almost as if their announcement of being together was something to be ashamed of.

"I mean… It was obvious to me…" He confessed "Roselie might not notice it but… this elf literally sneaks to your room every night, brother."

"W..Wh.. What? You… caught me?" the archer blurted out, her face went red. It seemed that she did not expect a mere human to catch onto her tip-toeing under the guise of the night. But unfortunately, Charlie was not a heavy sleeper and thanks to his innate ranger intuition, he could easily make out the light footsteps that could only belong to an elf.

"Mmm… But why did you hide your marital status though? We would be happy for you. I would, and I bet every gold piece I own that Roselie would too."

The warrior widened his eyes, but soon he smiled defeatedly.

"Hmm hmm… you are so interesting, Charlie. I'm glad to have you as my friend."

"Anytime, brother."

Elluin took a sip of water out of her waterskin, as if trying to suppress her embarrassment.

"But Charlie, dare I say… you are very different from most humans we know. Well, let's say his family did not take the news too well." 

Charlie nodded knowingly.

"Mmm… People actually did not welcome interspecies partners around these parts huh?"

To Charlie, it was an extremely ordinary thing for an elf and a human to be together. In his old world, it was fine for any race to find their own love, albeit the fact that all of them were human and they used to have a large segregation for people of different ethnicity. But life found a way and as his old world became increasingly difficult to live in with said discrimination, people just… got along.

But he was currently in a fantasy world, and he could understand that many cultures would view different races making a family together would be a taboo thing. 

Harrison crossed his arms, his facial expression showed intense curiosity "So where you're from, you can… uh what's the word… mingle with anyone you like?"

"Mhm… if both individuals love each other then… the more power to them, I guess. Not that I have any experience in love."

"Where are you from, actually?" Elluin inquired

Charlie raised his eyes.

He considered telling the truth for once.

And he rethought again. And again. His brows frowned, almost touching each other as his eyes wandered onto the flickers of ember rising from the fire.

What would they think of me?

He was scared, and for good reasons. This fantasy world he was currently residing in had many a creature, some even unknown and obscure to the mass majority of the population. This was due to the fact that the world was still mostly undiscovered, hence the need for adventurers to clear out the dangerous inhabitants and map out the unknown.

Charlie was a human then, yet he came from an entirely different world.

Would everyone view him as another ordinary creature, just like a fae from the plane of Feywild? 

Or would they consider him a threat, an outsider whose existence would trigger a cataclysmic event?

Charlie knew he was probably over thinking.

But alas, he would be exposed one way or another, sooner or later.

Charlie thought that it would be appropriate to borrow the current truthful atmosphere the party currently had and spill the beans. He nodded to himself, steeled his resolve and decided to open his heart to his fellow adventurers, who had been side by side, shoulder by shoulder with him for the last few months.

"Guys… well, you can trust me with your secret. And I could make a guarantee to you by giving you a secret of mine."

He stopped to gauge his friends' reaction, and also for a bit of dramatic effect.

"I am actually not from…"

Charlie was not a superstitious person by any means, but he knew and respected the fact that this world was a fantasy world and gods existed. He felt like the gods were playing tricks on him, for as soon as he opened his mouth to reveal his secrets, a loud cracking sound echoed to the party's hallway.

The sound of stone crashing into stone. Almost similar to the sound of a gargantuan stone mill grinding wheat into flour.

Repeatedly, rhythmically like a metronome.

Yet, the sound was getting increasingly louder, no doubt whatever making that sound was fast approaching the party.

Without missing a beat, those who were still conscious grabbed their weapons and took a defensive stance.

They knew they could not go back the other way, for they had barricaded it with all sorts of stone bricks and rubbles they could get their hands on. They had to fight head on.

"Heh… May the wind of Xanthufar guide us."

"Y'all ready? We are going all in, okay?"

"But of course."

Charlie grabbed spare ammunition, ready in his left palm for quick reload. He would try his best to take down whatever was going to pierce the veil of darkness.

A loud continuous clang echoed down the hall - Elluin's trap had been tripped. Betraying her wish, whatever was fast approaching did not even slow down to investigate the makeshift alarm the archer had set.

It was near, just a dozen steps before the party could get clear vision on it.

"I can see it!" Trembled Elluin as the elf archer immediately raised her longbow "It's a golem!"

A pale white giant humanoid golem placed its heavy footfall towards the party. It was intricately crafted, every muscle bulge painstakingly chiseled to perfection. Its head covered by a stone helmet with two long tusks imitating those of a warthog, there were no eyes but a single red orb took place in the middle of the head. 

The next minute was one of the moments that Charlie could not get out of his head for months.

Elluin let loose as many arrows as possible, while avoiding hitting Harrison and Charlie. But each and every arrow with an ordinary metal arrowhead slammed onto the golem body and shattered before littering the ground.

Harrison swung his axe sideways as an initiation, as the blade came into contact with the construct, a million blaze of fire shot out. It seemed his attack had somewhat damaged the golem as it reeled, but not for long. It immediately retaliated, throwing its giant fist towards the warrior.

Charlie tried to help, but not unlike Elluin, every bullet that came out of his gun barrel became a flat piece of metal stuck on the construct's body, dealing minimal damage to its surface. What can I do? He ran through his head, trying to grasp on anything that could turn the tide for the party.

Their opponent was a construct, a soulless golem without pain, fear nor exhaustion. It was slow, but every strike was devastating. The hallway groaned as it slammed its fist to the wall, barely missing the iron-cladded warrior. Dust and cobwebs on the ceiling rained down on the party.

His attack could not damage or hinder the golem by any way, neither did the elf archer's arrows.

What can I do?

Magic!

He raised his hand and focused, his eyes stared daggers at the imposing construct.

He prayed to whatever gods that existed in that world that his magic could work.

He felt a slight exhaustion from deep within his core as five black strains of pure magic essences shot out from his fingertips, blended into the dark and splattered onto the creature's head. The dark substance moved and swirled around before all retreated into the golem's helmet and wrapped around the orb. At the same time, Charlie's head ached and he felt his exhaustion ever so slightly increased - his blinding spell had worked fortunately.

He rushed to his allies and loudly announced "I blinded it! We can use magic on it!" before dashing behind the golem and tried to look for a way to deactivate, disable or at least slow it down. Its surface was covered in unknown runes alongside with decorative carvings, but with the limited lighting and its constant movement, he could not make out any switch or button - those that he was familiar with.

Harrison roared, ducked down to evade a giant stone pillar from crushing him like a tin can and brought his axe up with all his upper body strength. He was almost delirious from the battle, razor focused on the construct so as to predict its next attack. It was blinded by the ranger, so it swung its arms wildly, creating a dangerous area where he could not advance or risk becoming a crumpled tin can.

Elluin let loose an arrow she had imbued with nature magic, a specialty of her people. Her attack had been next to useless the whole fight, as every arrow was shattered before the unyielding opponent. Her arrow once again broke in half, but from its shaft, a writhing mass of thorny vine magically grew out and bound the construct tightly, multiple vines jammed themselves into the joints of the golem and paralyzed it.

Please at least buy us some time! She begged, nocking the last two arrows in her quiver onto the longbow.

Please…

A precious opportunity…

Charlie heaved heavily as he had over-extended his physical capability for the day.

He gazed upon the stone construct, seemingly unharmed from all of his party's attack. But it had been temporarily disabled by the elf's magic - he had a chance to pull his plan, a plan that had worked before. Charlie knew he had but a small window of succession as the vines from Elluin's natural magic had buckled and dissipated under the golem's movement.

He reached into his Bag of Holding and retrieved a small hog barrel containing a large amount of black powder - extremely flammable and explosive.

He rushed and faced the construct, gripping his pistol tightly and yelled out:

"Elluin! Can you cast another vine?"

"I'm out!" She replied dishearteningly. It was not her fault at all, for she had been careful in casting spells and managing her resources. But she couldn't help but feel guilty for not being able to assist Charlie in his plan, which could be a way out for the party.

Charlie gritted his teeth as the stone golem broke free. It's now or never! He thought to himself, or did he scream it out loud? He could not recall.

The ranger brought the barrel over his head and with every bit of power he had left, he catapulted it straight into the approaching foe. He quickly brought his gun forward, exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

The characteristic loud explosion rang out and the bullet pierced the wooden exterior of the barrel before the whole thing slammed into the golem and broke into a thousand pieces. The metal bullet created a bright spark on the golem's impervious stone torso.

A spark was all it took.

As the fine gunpowder dispersed before the golem, it was licked by the spark and a loud explosion, multiple times louder than that of Charlie's pistol, shook the whole tunnel.

A bright light blinded everyone in the ragged adventuring party.

But Charlie had miscalculated the safe distance due to the pressing situation, and he paid the heavy toll immediately. 

Shrapnel and flame took only a blink of an eye to cover the ranger whole as the super heated blast of air forced him back several steps. Both of Charlie's arms and his face suffered lacerations and blisters, his body got peppered by the metallic byproduct mixed into the powder and as he inhaled instinctively to hold himself from violently crashing to the floor, the immensely hot air scorched his airway and lungs, effectively crippled him.

For a second, he thought that he had successfully brought the magical stone golem down.

But the unscathed pillar of the golem arm unveiled the fiery curtain and slammed into his badly beaten body and launched him flat into the ground as he lost consciousness.