A coin.

Only God knew how long the dwarf had been trapped in that light. It was as if the moment that "explosion" engulfed her, everything had turned gray. The bitter pain of failure and the weight of regret were the only things keeping her from drowning in an ocean of emptiness.

She couldn't feel anything. She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't even see.

In that instant, she was nothing more than a swirling mass of sorrow and remorse. But even that didn't last long. That suspended state was slowly consuming her.

"Is this what it feels like to die?" the dwarf wondered, just before her thoughts faded into nothingness.

—

"Superior Anvil! Superior Anvil!"

Voices echoed through the catacombs.

Minutes after that eerie, grayish light flooded the depths of the dungeon, a large group of adventurers of varying ranks descended into the chamber where Anvil, Wado, and Muramasa lay. Healers rushed forward, calling out the fallen Adamant-ranked adventurers' names as they channeled restorative spells over them.

One by one, the warriors stirred, groaning as they struggled to regain their senses.

"What... happened?" Anvil muttered, rubbing her temple while using her Warhammer for support. Her vision was still blurry, and an unsettling ringing filled her ears. Surprisingly, though, her muscles no longer ached.

"Anyone with high resistance and magical potential was ordered to assist the two Adamante-ranked heroes who ventured down here. The instructions were simple—if they took too long, we had to go after them. We entered when we saw that massive explosion from the dungeon entrance," explained a Giant male with short brown hair, gripping a massive war axe. His heavy armor bore a platinum insignia, marking his rank within the hero corps. He was likely the leader of the support unit.

"Wait, the injured!" Anvil gasped, looking around in alarm. "They should be treated first!"

She tried to step toward the abyss she had crawled from, but her wounded comrades were nowhere to be found.

"Don't worry," the giant reassured her. "We used every healing potion we had to stabilize Lord Yaga. But if we truly wanted him to survive, we had to get him out of here as soon as possible. I ordered our bigger speed stats members to carry them out immediately. I hope you're not upset, but given that all of you were unconscious, it was the best decision I could make as your superior."

The giant placed his massive hand on her shoulder in a calming gesture. His voice was gentle, his demeanor pristine—completely opposite to Yaga's rugged nature.

"If I may ask... what happened here?" he continued, resting his colossal axe against his armored shoulder. His gaze lingered on the deep trail in the ground, a clear sign of where Anvil had dragged the injured.

"I... I don't know," Anvil admitted, exhaustion weighing on her voice. "At first glance, it seemed like some kind of attack, but we're not actually wounded. It's as if we were... struck by pure light." Her fingers traced over her body—first her thighs, then her calves, her stomach, and finally her arms. She felt nothing. No burning exhaustion, no lingering pain. It was as if she had woken from the most rejuvenating rest imaginable.

The moment she realized her renewed strength, her mind raced to the battle against that monstrous beast. She reached for her warhammer, but before she could even lift it from the ground, dread seized her once again.

Suddenly, the dungeon walls trembled.

A distant, guttural growl rumbled from deep within the collapsed tunnels.

And then—

A howl.

A hellish sound, terrifying and raw, roared through the corridors. A monstrous cry, powerful enough to send even the fiercest of creatures fleeing. A deafening bellow that made the very ground quake beneath their feet.

It didn't stop.

For minutes, the thunderous wail echoed through the catacombs, until, at last, it began to fade. But the moment it ceased, every hero knew what had to be done.

Like lightning, Anvil charged forward, sprinting at full speed. Wazamono and Wado followed right behind her, with the Adamante-ranked heroes close on their heels. At the rear, the giant commander led his support unit in pursuit.

"Spellcasters and ranged fighters, fall back and align with the healers! Melee fighters, step forward! Anyone with Ignis or Lumos affinity, create light orbs or fire to illuminate the tunnel! Healers, start preparing buffs for the Adamante heroes and the frontliners!" the young giant barked, gripping his war axe in one hand to avoid slowing his pace.

A true leader needed more than just raw strength. And this giant? He more than earned his rank. His orders were precise, his judgment sharp—ensuring the survival of the entire unit, the role of a leader was something that needed to do some hard choices and this giant really had the Will to do it.

But then—the worst happened.

That monstrous roar had triggered another cave-in.

Without hesitation, the strongest among them sprang into action.

"Giant, you'll join Wado and me in a combined strike," Muramasa commanded. "We'll use our strongest cuts to carve through the rock. Anvil, reinforce our attack with your hammer to push through to the other side! Anyone with Aer or Terra affinity—this is your moment to shine! " Muramasa unsheathed his massive blade, her single horn glowing with raw power. Her fangs jutted from his mouth, her face contorted in fierce determination. As the leader of the mountain Oni clan, her presence was nothing short of overwhelming. His immense physique, his blue-tinted skin, and her towering stature rivaled even the giants. 

A warrior in every sense of the word.

And now, their only hope of breaking through.

"Understood!" they all shouted in unison, preparing for their next move.

"State Reinforcement! Iron Muscles! Grand Swing! Charged Strike!" —the four frontline heroes roared as they prepared for their slashes. 

"Great Father Ocean, grant me your strength in this strike—Grand Waterfall!" —the giant bellowed as a shimmering veil of water enveloped the head of his axe, amplifying the force behind his blow. 

"Insight of the River—Geyser Edge!" —the Oni called out, as a razor-thin layer of water coated her blade, sharpening it beyond natural limits. 

Anvil and Wado didn't utter a word—thunder and shadow simply surged over their weapons, crackling and writhing in anticipation. A heartbeat later, the Oni and the giant unleashed their devastating attacks. Wado followed instantly, his shadow-infused strike cleaving through the air with unnatural speed, Then came Anvil's moment. With a mighty swing, her hammer collided with the projectile launched by the warriors. 

As someone with the Master Crafter class, she had the rare ability to unlock the hidden potential of objects and techniques, creating and enhancing almost anything. And here, her gift was undeniable—her augmentation caused the combined strike to tear through the massive boulder effortlessly, leaving behind a gaping rift in the stone, a deep scar stretching across the battlefield. 

"Opening squad, move in!" —Anvil commanded, her sharp eyes catching a glimmer of light beyond the newly formed passage. 

"Shadow Art—Army of a Hundred Hanzos!" —Wado chanted, his hands weaving a rapid sequence of summoning seals. With his Umbra Affinity, he extended his shadow through the narrow crack. Moments later, the fissure began to widen as countless shadowy hands emerged from the darkness, grasping at the stone and forcing the passage open. 

"Wise Guardian Aer—Storm Sphere!" —the Aer-elemental mages chanted, sending howling currents of wind spiraling through the opening. Orbs of brilliant emerald wind swelled and surged, carving the stone away as they expanded. 

"Mother Terra, grant me your touch!" —the Terra-affinity casters called out, their hands glowing with an earthy hue. A moment later, colossal hands of stone erupted from the walls and floor, gripping the passage's edges and prying them wider. 

As the tunnel expanded, the scene beyond became clearer. Anvil's keen eyes caught an unusual gleam in the distance. Without hesitation, she surged ahead, slipping through the widening gap with ease. Her dwarven stature allowed her to dart past the others, unnoticed. 

"Superior Anvil, please be careful!" —the giant called out, watching her vanish into the dim corridor. 

She was ready. Tightening her grip on her hammer, she called upon her lightning mantle once more, its crackling energy propelling her forward like a thunderbolt. She dashed through the narrowing path, descending rapidly—retracing the steps where Pein's summon had once led them. 

The glow ahead grew stronger. With every step, the doubts and worries that had weighed on her heart began to fade. A single thought echoed in her mind: I have not failed. Again and again, she reassured herself. 

Anvil steadied her hammer, electricity crackling over its surface as she dashed like lightning through the tight corridor, descending swiftly toward where Pein's summoning had previously led her. The glow ahead grew stronger, and with it, her confidence that she had not failed. Each step pushed her doubts further away.

But everything crumbled the moment she crossed the threshold into the boss's chamber.

Her eyes adjusted to the light... and the sight became clear.

Against the wall stood Ecate, the glorious winged woman whose very presence radiated pride. Now, her face was drenched in blood, her ceremonial robes completely destroyed, torn, and covered in dirt and scratches. But what stood out the most wasn't her ruined state—it was what lay before her. Just a few meters away, one of her majestic wings, completely torn from her body, lay motionless, soaked in thick crimson.

Beside her, two figures struggled to remain standing. The first was the red-skinned demon, Pein, leaning against the wall with one arm completely shattered. It wasn't the missing horn or the blood covering his eyes that drew the most attention, but the fact that, even on the verge of collapse, he still aimed his weapon at the boss. Next to him was Beo. The beastman's face said it all—one of his eyes was gone, his snout was broken, and several of his teeth had been shattered. But the worst of all was his missing leg. There was no trace of it in the room. Yet, what truly kept him from standing wasn't his own injuries, but what he held in his arms.

Wrapped in his furry embrace, Beo cradled an unmoving figure, completely drenched in blood. Her face was disfigured from the beatings, her skin charred, and her arms mangled. The mighty Igra now lay motionless, unrecognizable.

The sound of Anvil's hammer crashing against the floor echoed through the room. Then came the impact of her knees hitting the ground. Finally, a faint sob. She had witnessed a massacre, and now there was only one place left to look—with fear.

At the center of it all, the figure of that damned armor still stood, yet something had changed. It no longer had that strange glow… Now, it seemed completely hollow. Beside it, the venerable and once-pristine figure of their leader struggled to stay upright, using his spear for support. Parts of his spectacular armor were shattered, revealing deep wounds beneath his elven skin. But that wasn't what broke the dwarf.

What destroyed Anvil was what lay at the feet of both the leader and the armor.

There, face down, gasping for breath, was Leered. A gaping wound tore through his chest, his body half-submerged in a pool of his own blood. In his clenched fist, he held a small, gleaming object. Leered—the one she had considered a dear friend, along with Yaga the giant—was dying before her eyes. And there was nothing she could do.

She could have sworn that their eyes met for an instant. 

Then, he closed his eyes.

And never opened them again.

The silence of the room shattered with Anvil's heart-wrenching screams. Her grief erupted into fury, just as the rest of the team arrived. But there was no time to process the tragedy—the dungeon itself began to collapse. The ceiling trembled, the walls cracked, and the floor split apart beneath them.

"Grab whoever you can and get out of here." Claymore's voice was firm as he leaned on his spear like a crutch.

Anvil tried to throw herself toward Leered's body, but a group of adventurers grabbed her, dragging her away. She struggled, screamed, fought with everything she had—but it was useless. The last thing she saw was her companion swallowed by the darkness as the crystal floor beneath him shattered.

In the depths of the abyss, Leered's body vanished. His hand loosened, releasing the small object he had been holding. Amidst the collapse, a single sound echoed—one that only he could hear.

The soft clink of a coin spinning on the floor.

A green shimmer that turned white.