Ambush Begins

Amukelo and Eliss's journey back to the twenty-fifth level was a grueling test of endurance and willpower. They navigated through the complex labyrinth of the dungeon with an urgency driven by the gravity of their mission. Along the way, they encountered occasional monsters which they dispatched quickly; their prowess honed by their extensive training made short work of these distractions. However, the real challenge was not the creatures but the sheer distance and the pressing time.

As they left the twenty-seventh level behind, Amukelo suggested they take a brief rest to gather their strength for what may come. They found a small alcove off the main path, shielded by an overhang of jagged rocks, providing a semblance of security. Here, they agreed on short shifts; Amukelo took the first watch, allowing Eliss to catch some much-needed sleep. Then there was time for Amukelo to rest, Eliss took a watch and let him sleep. 

They still had over a day of running, because they had to leave the twenty-sixth level and get to the place where other teams would ambush Valarian. Run through the twenty-sixth level was relatively peaceful, as they stumbled on monsters only once. 

They entered level twenty-five and decided to make another rest. This time Eliss was again the first one to get sleep. Amukelo watched over her, as she gained her strength in this unforgiving environment. The place they chose for their small camp was far enough from the main route to not encounter so many monsters, but close enough to get to the place of an ambush relatively quickly. 

After some time the quiet of the dungeon was pierced by distant echoes of what could only be spells and metal clashing—sounds that grew increasingly frequent as dawn approached. Amukelo, on high alert, strained his ears to gauge the progress of the battle. His mind raced with scenarios, each more dire than the last, as he weighed the risks of entering the fray unrested.

Meanwhile, back with Amukelo's friends and the rest of the Fallenhoods, the situation was escalating quickly. Another signal device activated, this time with a more urgent tone, indicating that the ambush on the intruders was underway. The voice on the device was rushed but clear, "Teams Alpha through Gamma have engaged the enemy at junction X2-C on level twenty-five. We have them cornered but reinforcements are crucial. The enemy is formidable. Proceed with caution."

Krazthir, standing amidst his assembled warriors, processed the information with a grave nod. He issued his commands with a stern voice that carried over the murmurs of his team, "Allow them to engage, but stay alert and ready to support. This enemy is unpredictable. Safety in numbers, and remember, our goal is containment and capture. Do not underestimate them."

Back at their makeshift camp, as Eliss's allotted rest time came to an end, she awoke to the sounds of distant combat. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes, immediately alert. "The fight started? Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry and frustration.

Amukelo looked over, his face shadowed by fatigue yet softened with concern for his companion. "I wanted you to be as rested as possible," he explained. "We can't afford to both be weakened, not with what's waiting for us. This battle needs us at our best."

"But what about you?" Eliss pressed, her eyes narrowing as she took in his weary stance and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Don't worry about me; I'm not that tired," Amukelo lied, managing a weary smile to reassure her. His body ached for rest, the adrenaline from the earlier battles wearing off, leaving him drained. Two hours of sleep he had last night was hardly enough to recover from the constant running and fighting, but he pushed these thoughts aside, focusing instead on the mission and the need to support Eliss and his team.

The corridor of junction X2-C transformed into a battleground as the three guild teams meticulously executed their ambush against Valarian and his cloaked followers. The enclosed space echoed with the clang of weapons and the hiss of spells as combatants clashed fiercely. Initially, the guilds' superior numbers and the element of surprise seemed to give them the upper hand.

Valarian, however, was not easily outmaneuvered. With a commanding shout, he unleashed his powers, calling forth the undead from the ether. Catfolk and heavily armored guardians, skeletal warriors, and spectral wraiths surged forward, evening out the numbers and turning the tide of battle. The air thickened with the smell of ozone as his mages began to cast, their spells arcing through the corridor with lethal precision.

The guilds responded with discipline forged in countless dungeon delves. Mages erected protective barriers, shimmering domes of energy that absorbed incoming spells, while warriors formed defensive phalanxes, their shields interlocked to fend off the pressing undead. The skirmish grew more intense as Valarian's dragon, a colossal beast reanimated from death, lumbered into the fray, its wings tattered yet powerful enough to stir up gales that disrupted the guilds' formations.

Lizardman, agile and fierce, darted through the ranks, his blade a blur as he sought to exploit any openings. His attacks were ferocious, designed to break the cohesion of the guild teams, but they held firm. Healers, stationed safely behind the front lines, chanted incantations that wove threads of light around the injured, knitting wounds and bolstering spirits.

Despite the chaos, the guilds gradually adapted to the relentless assault. Using their deep knowledge of team tactics, they began to isolate the biggest threats. Groups of fighters diverted the dragon, leading it into a prepared trap where enchantments bound its movements. Meanwhile, other squads focused on dismantling Valarian's undead forces, their holy and enchanted weapons proving effective against the necrotic flesh and bone.

The battle's rhythm was grueling, with each side adapting and countering in real time. Guild archers and slingers targeted the enemy mages, their volleys designed to disrupt the casting of spells that could turn the battle in Valarian's favor. Every cleared undead allowed the guild teams to inch closer to strategic advantage, tightening their encirclement of the core enemy group.