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Packmule of the Dungeon

For generations, Monster filled dungeons have plagued the world. Ozel Kasper, the 'pack mule' of the Black Lotus Guild, was left to die. Unwilling to easy into that sweet night, she fights back. After falling to another world, crippled and broken; she given a choice. Become a Saint and save not only her world but all worlds cursed by the Dungeon Plague; or die like a lowly dog. Ever the Opportunist and driven by a burning desire for revenge, Ozel agrees.

Zealnote · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

Chapter 49 : Growing pains of a New Saint

For the newly formed party, this was their first true challenge together. A front brawler (Taegan), forward DPS (Selene), Mr Forsaken Prince Level 80 himself (Nahern), and her…a level 20 Saint.

What did a Saint even do!? In her time as Saint, she rarely thought of actually what her role was in a party. Damage? Healing? Conditions? 

She didn't know anything beyond simply punching things! She was no cleric, healing or buffing her party. What was her purpose here?

Oz scrambled to dodge yet another energy beam, her legs still sluggish from the hours spent in the fog. The salt drained her, as did the cold. She longed for that hot spring back at the settlement, buried up to her nose in hot water. 

"Stay back Saint!" Taegan called back, his golden fur bristled up. A mighty roar came out of him, enough it shook the walls causing salty icicles to rain down on the skull faced lich. With barely a gesture, he sent them back to the party. Selene threw the attack with a twirl of her spear, Nahern destroyed any ice that dared come near with a flick of his blade.

Never had Oz felt so useless then she did right then. Cowering behind one of the large rocks. Even when her only role was 'packmule', she had a purpose. Now she…was scrambling to find herself.

'Stop freaking out. Stop it. You aren't a baby.' She told herself, even as her teeth chattered and her body shook. She was a hunter. A hunter! She fought bosses in the last few weeks, fought back against the Aunt. Why was she terrified now?

She destroyed a skeleton boss without a thought. Nearly destroyed a 2 ton desk. She was the Dragon's Saint. So why? Why!

'Move dammit!' Oz shouted at herself, still frozen to the spot. Why couldn't she move?

The cow-skulled lich tapped his cane again, the party thrown into the air from the rising tide. 

'Afraid my dear? No, you just accepted the truth. They abandoned you. Why should you fight for them? Let them die, let them rot. Stay here with me where you belong.' Whispered a velvety smooth voice in her mind. 

Oz shook her head, her fists tightening. The rock crumbled to dust under her grip to stand up. 

"Get out of my head!" She yelled, the oppressive aura was coming from him. The one corrupting her strength and will. Sure Oz had her depressed moments, but since coming to this world she has been happy. With the siblings! They were her new family.

'What if it is? You nearly gave up hours ago. Why not go back to sleep? Rest. You are so tired, darling girl. Rest here with me, you said you wouldn't abandon me.'

Oz shook her head again, slamming her fist into the rock. The sharp pain was enough to send stars to her eyes, the flush of hot blood welcomed as it threw back the lich's control from her mind. The man stumbled back at that, actually grasping at his skull head.

"I will NEVER give up! Until I get my revenge!" Her hand reached out to whatever was closest to her from the forest of disregarded weapons. 

Without thinking she ripped it from its frozen grave and charged the lich. Heavy. Whatever she grabbed was heavy but perfectly balanced. She swung hard and true, slamming the weight of metal, stone and ice itself over the barrier surrounding the lich.

The eye sockets glowed bright blue, the barrier nearly cracked. A sparkling silver warhammer was in her hand, as if a block of ice was ripped from the ground itself. The metal glistened and sparkled, without a scrap of rust or tarnish despite all the years hidden in the salty water.

With one strike, she nearly broke through, the lich's eyes narrowed within the sockets. With a rush of power, she was knocked away. The spider web of cracks glowed over the barrier's sphere. 

"Damnit!" Oz grunted as she was thrown back, thankfully caught by Nahern. The pair of them slid back over the slippery stones until he braced himself.

"You idiot, we just got you back! Stop running into a fight you can't win, we're here to help you! Tell us what to do you idiot" He hissed at her, hands tight against her shoulders.

"I can't stand back and let anyone be hurt by my stupid quest." Oz growled, standing back on shaky legs. Above the lich was the waypoint! A …sparkling beautiful star piece, just out of reach. But it was there.

The Dungeon's Star!!

But to get it, she had to defeat the Lich. Her mind whirled, it was too strong to fight.

[???? | Abandoned Soul of Everthorn Mines | Lich | Level ???]

"Wait, abandoned? That's it!" Oz called out as Nahern threw her over his shoulder, running back to cover. She kicked and tried to escape his hold, but it was like an iron shackle.

Hearing that, the lich flinched. Ripples of the frigid water slowed to a gentle pulse, the skull facing them directly. Oz felt those blue eyes staring at her, pure eye lights of just magical energy. She tapped Nahern on the shoulder again, demanding he set her down.

She held her hand up to the party, all holding weapons at the ready. Slowly Oz stepped forward, her legs almost too weak to hold her.

Ozel Kasper was a Saint. Is this what saints did? …She let instinct take over as she dared cross the forest of fallen weapons and skeletons. Saints helped people.

"Who abandoned you here?" She asked softly, raising a hand out to the Lich.