003. Plot holes

'If they keep pushing, they might just damage it long enough for me. I think I have an idea that just might work'

He bent low in one swift motion, swinging the medic bag off his back and slamming it down beside him.

"There has to be something I could use"

He dropped to his knees and yanked the medic bag open, digging through it in a rush. Bandages, tools, bottles—none of them was what he was looking for. He was sure he'd packed something useful, something he could use if things went bad...

His hands moved faster, frustration building.

"Great. The one time I need it, and it's gone," he muttered.

It was like the universe had a cruel sense of timing. Things only vanished when they were absolutely necessary.

Then his fingers brushed cold glass, and his eyes lit up. 'Found it.'

A small vial, no—there were three of them, tucked together at the bottom of the bag. He carefully pulled them out, making sure not to crush them in his grip. The liquid inside shimmered faintly as they came into full view.

"Good"

They were poison vials—deadly concoctions he had prepared and packed long ago, just in case things ever spiraled out of control. He hadn't expected to need them, not so soon, maybe not at all. But some part of him had known better than to put his life fully in the hands of some people the government tagged as elites.

These weren't meant for casual use. They were a last resort. A backup plan for when everything else failed.

And from the way things were going now—the rising tension in the air, and the flicker of danger crawling closer—this was exactly the kind of emergency he had feared.

His grip tightened around the glass, "I have to get each of these to the appropriate people"

He glanced up from the vials, his eyes narrowing as the scene before him exploded into motion.

Reon was a blur of movement, his sword cutting clean arcs through the air. Each swing carried raw force, sending out shockwaves that clashed against the ogre's thick hide. The creature roared, stumbling back as Reon's blade carved a shallow gouge across its chest—but not deep enough.

To his left, Leira was already mid-air, her twin daggers flashing like silver lightning. She danced across the ogre's arm as it swung, boots barely touching skin before she launched herself higher, dragging a blade across the beast's shoulder in a spray of blood. It bellowed, twisting violently, but she was already gone—vanishing in a flicker of shadow.

Up on a crumbled ledge, Rin knelt in perfect stillness, bow drawn tight. Her fingers loosed arrow after arrow with unnerving speed, each shot humming with enchantment. One pierced the ogre's temple, crackling with ice from the ogre's defense. Another slammed into its thigh and exploded in a shockwave of wind, knocking it off balance.

Zareth stood just behind the others, his cloak billowing with arcane energy. He chanted under his breath, palms glowing violet. With a sharp motion, he thrust his hands forward—tendrils of magic lashed out, wrapping around the ogre's limbs and dragging its movements into slow, distorted stutters. Sparks danced along the bindings as the creature fought against the magical restraints.

Then came Gorran—bare-chested, his fists clenched, and eyes blazing with fury. He charged like a living battering ram, launching off a broken slab of stone. With a roar, he crashed into the ogre's side, driving a devastating punch into its ribs. The impact cracked like thunder, sending a ripple through the monster's massive frame.

The ogre reeled, and regenerated, slamming its fists into the earth in a furious attempt to regain control. The dungeon shook, dust and debris raining down from above. But the elites weren't giving it a chance. They struck again and again—relentless, precise, and overwhelming.

Together, they were pushing it back. Not with brute force alone, but with coordination, skill, and the cold focus of warriors who had faced times close to death one too many times to fear it now.

But the question that lingered at the back of his mind was—could they hold out long enough to actually bring the ogre down? With its relentless regeneration, it was becoming painfully clear that this battle had been one-sided from the start.

But there was no time to dwell on that thought—only action mattered now. The vial in his hand was their one shot at victory, and he couldn't afford the luxury of hesitation.

Kael smiled faintly, then pushed himself to his feet and broke into a sprint, weaving through the scattered debris and chaos of the battlefield. His target was Rin—the first person he needed to reach and hand the vial to.

But even as he closed the distance, doubt gnawed at him. Would she actually listen? Or would she brush him off with a sharp glare or cutting words, too caught up in the heat of battle to hear him out?.

Then a new idea popped into his head, one he was sure she wouldn't refused. "That should work"

Kael reached her position, his feet sliding a little as he stopped beside her. Just as he expected, she was already irritated by his presence. Her expression tightened, and she didn't bother looking his way.

"What are you doing here? You need to leave or you'll distract me, and I don't have time to be distracted!"

Kael hunched forward, resting his palms against his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. The sprint had drained more energy than he expected, his lungs burning with every gasp of the damp, dungeon air. Sweat clung to his forehead, dripping past his brow as he slowly lifted his gaze to her. Even in the midst of battle, she remained composed—her form fluid, her bowstring constantly drawing and releasing with deadly rhythm.

"How long do you think you can keep this up?" he asked, his voice low but firm, laced with concern that didn't match the chaos around them.

She barely gave him a glance, just a flicker of her eyes before locking back onto her target—the monstrous ogre thrashing wildly in the distance. Her fingers moved with instinctual precision, not a second wasted as another arrow soared from her bow and sliced through the thick air.

"What do you mean?" she replied, her eyes fixed on the target ahead.

"Haven't you noticed you people have barely scratched the ogre? With its monstrous regenerative abilities, do you think you can outlast it in a battle of endurance?"

She glanced back just in time to see the ogre's chest beginning to mend—the deep wounds from her arrows already closing up, as if her efforts meant nothing.

"You didn't just come here to state the obvious, did you?" she said sharply, not hiding her frustration. "So tell me—what's the real reason you ran all the way over here?"

Kael gave a small grin, impressed by her sharp instincts. "Well, for starters, I couldn't get to Reon and the others because the chaos made it impossible. So you were my next option."

"Option for what? Stop circling and get to the point."

He didn't waste another second. With a firm motion, Kael raised a small glass vial into the air, letting the flickering dungeon light catch its shimmer.

"Since we can't beat the ogre head-on because of its regeneration… the only way we win is by locking it in place. This—" he held the vial steady, "—is how we do that."

She briefly glanced at the vial he held up, "So you want me to get that vial into its body, so it stops its regenerative abilities completely and paralyses it?

"And how are you sure that thing is strong enough to stop it?"

"That's it, we'll never know unless we try and if we don't try then we'll all eventually burn out and die here"

She smirked at his words, then let out a short sigh.

"How many shots do we have?"

"Three," Kael replied. "No more than that. We can't afford to miss more than once—twice at most."

She nodded slightly, her eyes already scanning the ogre's movements.

"I'll do what I can to land the shot… but after that, it's all on how strong that vial really is."

Kael's eyes narrowed. "We might need more than one to hit it—just to be safe."

She nodded and drew out an arrow from her quiver, "Hand me the first vial"

Kael reached into his pouch and pulled out the first vial, its glass surface cool and slick with condensation. He handed it to her carefully, making sure not to shake it too much. She took it without a word, her expression all focus now.

With practiced hands, she knelt slightly and drew an arrow from the quiver strapped to her lower back. Holding the shaft steady, she uncorked the vial with a swift flick of her thumb, releasing a faint, sharp scent that briefly filled the air.

Without hesitation, she tilted the vial and poured its contents along the metal tip of the arrow, making sure the liquid coated it evenly. A faint shimmer danced over the arrowhead as it absorbed the strange substance.

Once it was done, she placed the arrow gently on her bowstring, careful not to smudge the coating. Her fingers flexed around the grip, the air around her suddenly heavy with tension.

Kael watched every movement, knowing this shot could change everything.

She steadied her breath, her fingers firm against the bowstring, eyes locked onto the rampaging ogre ahead.

Wind began to stir faintly around her—gentle at first, then sharp with intent—answering her call like a loyal companion. As she released the arrow, the current caught it mid-flight, guiding its path with unerring precision.

The arrow sliced cleanly through the air, cutting across the chaotic battlefield with a sharp whistle. With the wind steering it around the ogre's jagged armor and shifting weight, it found the perfect opening—sinking deep into the left side of the monster's abdomen. The impact sent a small shudder through its hulking frame.

"It was a direct hit!" Kael almost shouted but he held back his excitement and watched instead.

Despite its grotesque size, the ogre didn't always bother to dodge. It had grown overconfident, hardened by years of battles and bolstered by its near-immortal healing. It let certain attacks land, judging them as negligible—just as it had with Rin's shot. But this time, the gamble came at a cost..