THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

The dimly lit corridor stretched endlessly in front of Baek Ji-Hoon and his team. Their footsteps echoed against the stone floor, each step heavier than the last.

The air was thick, humid, with a faint smell of decay—an unmistakable sign they were nearing the heart of the dungeon. It had been hours since they'd ventured into the depths, each room more dangerous than the last.

But this one... this one was different.

The walls seemed to pulse, as if alive, subtly shifting between shadows and flickers of light. The temperature dropped sharply as they reached the end of the corridor, where an immense door stood, adorned with ancient symbols. A low hum emanated from it, vibrating through the ground beneath their feet.

"Is this it?"

The voice of the party's mage —Ji-Hoon's sister— cut through the silence, her breath shaky with a mix of anticipation and fear. Her usual calm demeanor had been replaced with a palpable tension, something Ji-Hoon hadn't seen in years.

Ji-Hoon, however, stood motionless. His eyes scanned the door. The faint symbols etched into its surface were not just decorative. They were ancient runes, a warning to all who dared enter. His fingers twitched, but his mind remained focused. This is it. This is the moment.

"Everyone, check your gear. Stay sharp,"

He commanded, his voice steady, betraying none of the anxiety that gnawed at him beneath the surface. His plan had been meticulously crafted for this very moment. Every step had been calculated. There was no room for error now.

Behind him, his team adjusted their weapons. The tank double-checked his shield, the archer silently tested the tension on his bowstring, and the healer muttered a prayer under her breath. It was all routine. But the weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, a reminder of what awaited them.

Ji-Hoon turned to face the door once again. As he reached out to place his hand on it, he felt a surge of energy — dark, oppressive, but undeniably powerful. This was no ordinary dungeon boss. This was something far greater.

The door groaned as it slowly began to open, revealing an expansive chamber bathed in an eerie green glow. The walls were lined with twisting vines, their leaves glowing faintly with an unnatural light.

At the center of the room stood a towering throne, adorned with skeletal remains, and above it—an enormous, swirling black orb that emitted a low, mournful hum.

Ji-Hoon's heart raced. He could feel it—the presence of the boss. It was not just a creature; it was something ancient, a being tied to the very fabric of this dungeon. The room seemed to close in on them, the walls shifting, as if the dungeon itself were alive, watching their every move.

"Stay close,"

Ji-Hoon muttered, his voice barely audible. "This is where the plan matters most. Follow my lead, and don't let anything distract you."

The team nodded in agreement, though the tension was almost unbearable. As they stepped further into the room, the ground beneath them seemed to rumble. The swirling black orb above the throne pulsed, and suddenly, the air was filled with a shrill, distorted screech. It was as if the very atmosphere had been torn apart.

From the shadows emerged a figure—a towering, skeletal entity, its body cloaked in twisting vines and shadows. The creature was twice the size of any man, its bones creaking and shifting as it moved. The orb above its throne flickered and then dissipated, revealing a face—a face not of flesh, but of darkness, a swirling vortex of blackness and fire.

It raised one skeletal hand, gripping a long, thin blade that gleamed with an otherworldly light.

"Erebus,"

Ji-Hoon whispered under his breath, recognizing the creature immediately. It was the final boss, the one they had been preparing for. But it was more than just an opponent. It was the embodiment of the dungeon itself, the culmination of every challenge they had faced to get here.

The air crackled with tension. The time for planning was over. Now, they would have to see if their preparation was enough to overcome what lay before them.

...

The group stood in the shadow of the massive door, a cold breeze wafting from within. The final boss room was ahead, its ominous black metal surface adorned with the intricate symbols of past players who had met their doom.

It had the look of something both ancient and unyielding—something that promised to test every ounce of their strength and resolve. But Baek Ji-Hoon wasn't worried. In fact, he wasn't even nervous.

Where others might have felt the weight of the moment pressing down on them, he felt only calm, even satisfaction. His hands were steady, his breath measured.

Every variable had been accounted for. His team, though unaware of his exact strategy, had been carefully prepared for this moment, whether they realized it or not.

Ji-Hoon's eyes flicked over his teammates—each standing at attention, a mix of anxiety and anticipation in their eyes. The group was a tight-knit unit, but none of them knew the true depth of his plans. It was the way he preferred it. The less they knew, the less they could interfere.

The boss room. The final test.

He had studied every inch of this dungeon. Its history. The previous attempts. The patterns of failure. And from all of that, a singular truth had emerged: brute force would not be enough. It never had been.

This was a battle of strategy, not strength. And Ji-Hoon, in his quiet, unassuming way, had already devised the perfect plan.

The others, oblivious to the intricacies of the challenge ahead, had assumed this would be another run-of-the-mill dungeon crawl. They trusted his leadership, but they didn't know him the way he knew himself. They didn't understand that every detail—every move—had already been mapped out in his mind.

Ji-Hoon's gaze shifted to his sister, the mage who stood at the back of the group. There was a subtle tension in her posture, a telltale sign of her unease.

He could feel it, but didn't let it faze him. His sister had always been the emotional one, the one who would get caught up in the drama of the moment.

She was important, no doubt, but she was also an unpredictable variable. He would need to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't make a rash move when things got tough.

But Ji-Hoon had already accounted for her role. As the mage, his sister's power was immense, but it wasn't just about raw power. The strategy was in how she would use her abilities—how she would manage her mana, how she would time her spells. He knew that she would be the one to provide the key support during the battle, using her magic to both attack and defend.

However, unlike the others, Ji-Hoon understood that her most critical role would be keeping the group's spirits high when things got rough. Magic could do a lot, but a mage's confidence and morale were just as important.

Ji-Hoon's sister would also act as a countermeasure in case the swordmaster got too reckless. Her role in the battle was to provide protection when necessary. She was the one who could heal the wounded, create barriers to absorb damage, and, most importantly, keep the group alive through the toughest moments.

But Ji-Hoon also knew her limits—her spells had a cooldown, and if used recklessly, they could leave the group vulnerable. Her ability to sense when to cast her healing spells and when to hold back would make all the difference.

He was always a step ahead.

For this battle, he had divided the group into roles, each one serving a specific function in the overall strategy.

The tank would take the brunt of the damage, drawing the boss's attention and keeping it engaged.

The healer would focus on keeping everyone alive, watching for any signs of a change in the boss's attack patterns.

The archer—silent, methodical—would take care of the ranged damage, making sure to never get too close.

But it was Ji-Hoon who would be the true key to their success. He would be the one to direct the flow of the battle, using the environment, the boss's own behavior, and the team's timing to their advantage. He wasn't a brute force fighter; he was a tactician. His quiet observation and precise coordination would be what won them the battle.

The swordmaster, their team captain, also had a critical role in Ji-Hoon's plan. The captain was a skilled fighter, precise with his blade, and fiercely loyal—at least, Ji-Hoon had believed that until recently. Still, Ji-Hoon had his role to play.

In this battle, the swordmaster would be the distraction.

He would be the one to test the limits of the boss's defenses, drawing its focus with well-timed, aggressive attacks. His flashy strikes would create openings, giving Ji-Hoon and the others a chance to strike where the boss was weakest.

But Ji-Hoon had carefully constructed his plan knowing the swordmaster's temperament. The captain was a prideful man, prone to taking risks when his ego was at stake. Ji-Hoon knew this.

So, he had devised a subtle way to keep him in check, making sure he didn't overextend. It was critical to make sure the swordmaster's ego didn't get the best of him and cause an unpredictable outcome that could derail the plan. Ji-Hoon had set up signals—specific moments in the battle when he would direct the swordmaster's attacks, guiding him to help in the right place and at the right time.

And most importantly, Ji-Hoon knew the swordmaster's fatal flaw: his overestimation of his own abilities. Ji-Hoon had planned for that too. Once the boss started to show signs of weakening, it would be the swordmaster who would charge ahead to deliver the final blow.

Ji-Hoon had already predicted that moment. When the boss's defenses began to break, the swordmaster's pride would push him into a dangerous position—but by then, Ji-Hoon would be ready to use it to their advantage.

But that wasn't all.

The final piece of his strategy lay in the hidden mechanics of the boss itself. Everyone thought the battle was a straightforward test of strength. But Ji-Hoon knew better.

There was a hidden trigger, something subtle in the environment, a way to manipulate the flow of the fight. If done right, it would be the difference between victory and death.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the massive door ahead. The team had no idea how much danger lay beyond it. He would have to guide them carefully, ensuring each of them played their role perfectly.

No mistakes.

The silence was palpable as he finally spoke, his voice low but authoritative.

"Everyone, listen carefully. Once we enter, stick to the plan. I will direct you. No deviations, no improvisation."

The team nodded, some more confident than others, but all trusting in his leadership. Ji-Hoon looked over them one last time before turning his gaze to the door.

In his mind, the battle had already begun.