Just as I was about to stand and prepare with the others, a familiar golden screen flickered into my vision.
***
[New Sub-Quest: Prove Your Worth]
Objective: Kill an Elite Orc inside the castle.
Time Limit: Until the prisoners escape.
Rewards: +12 Stat Points, Eclipse Legion (High-Tier Summoning Skill)
Penalty for Failure:Death.
***
My breath caught in my throat. This wasn't just another challenge. The system had given me quests before, but never with a penalty this absolute. If I failed… I wouldn't get another chance.
But then my eyes shifted to the rewards.
Eclipse Legion.
A high-tier summoning skill—one that allowed me to create and command shadow warriors from the essence of fallen enemies. Not just mindless puppets, but soldiers that retained their combat instincts, all bound to my will.
The potential was insane. With a skill like that, I wouldn't just be fighting alone anymore. I could have an army.
My heartbeat quickened. The risk was extreme, but the reward… this was the kind of power that could change everything.
I exhaled sharply and dismissed the notification.
"Kid, you alright?" Vance's voice snapped me back. He was adjusting the straps on his armor, eyeing me with mild concern.
I forced a grin, masking the storm raging inside me. "Yeah. Just… mentally preparing."
Vance chuckled. "Good. Keep that energy. We hit them hard and fast."
***
Moving with practiced silence, we crept toward the castle's jagged stone walls, our presence masked by the deep shadows stretching from the flickering torchlights. Every step was careful, measured—one wrong move, and we'd alert the entire fortress.
The plan was simple: slip through the crack in the wall Roth found, avoid unnecessary fights, and reach the prisoners. But for me, there was another layer to this mission—I had to kill an Elite Orc.
Failure meant death.
As we neared the fractured section of the wall, Roth gestured with two fingers and whispered, "Clear. No patrols in this area."
Vance nodded. "Dane, you're up. Quietly."
Dane rolled his shoulders and approached first. Despite his size, he moved surprisingly well for someone in heavy armor. He squeezed through the crack, disappearing into the darkness inside.
Roth followed next, slipping through like a ghost. Then Vance.
I took a slow breath. My turn.
Slipping into the narrow opening, the rough stone scraped against my jacket, but I managed to squeeze through without a sound.
Inside, the air was damp, thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and rot. The stone corridor stretched ahead, dimly illuminated by torches mounted along the walls.
Roth took point, scouting ahead. Dane and Vance followed closely, weapons at the ready. I lingered slightly behind, my fingers tightening into a fist.
***
We moved carefully through the dim corridor, every step precise and controlled. The deeper we went, the more suffocating the atmosphere became. The thick scent of blood and rot clung to the air, making it clear that this fortress had been drenched in death for a long time.
Roth raised a fist, signaling for us to stop. We pressed ourselves against the cold stone walls, barely breathing.
I peeked past him.
Beyond the archway ahead was a massive hall, lit by braziers casting eerie, flickering shadows. The room was vast, with stone pillars supporting the high ceiling. The floor was layered with torn banners and discarded weapons—spoils of war and slaughter.
At the far end of the hall sat the Orc Warlord.
The creature loomed on a throne of bones and iron, muscles like steel cords bulging beneath its scarred, grayish-green skin. Twin crimson eyes gleamed under the torchlight, filled with the kind of intelligence that made it even more dangerous. A massive battle-axe rested beside it, the blade still dripping with fresh blood.
But what caught my attention wasn't just the monster sitting upon its throne.
Behind it—embedded in the wall like a dark heart—was a colossal, pulsating crystal.
Its surface shimmered with a sickly, deep red glow, mana swirling inside like a storm barely contained.
Roth narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that?"
Vance's expression darkened. "Whatever it is, it's important. That's not just a random decoration."
Dane tightened his grip on his hammer. "So, what's the plan? Smash our way through?"
Vance shook his head. "No. Rushing in without a plan is suicide. That thing isn't just sitting on a throne for decoration—it's waiting for something."
Roth nodded. "Yeah, and that crystal... I don't like it. If it's tied to the dungeon mutation, breaking it might trigger something worse."
Dane let out a low grunt. "So what? We wait and watch?"
I studied the hall carefully, taking in every detail—the throne, the crystal, the orc warlord, and the smaller orcs scattered throughout the chamber. There were at least a dozen elite orcs stationed in the room, all armed and armored.
"No," I said quietly. "We observe and find a weakness."
Vance gave me an approving glance before shifting his attention back to the hall. "Agreed. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with before we make a move."
We crouched lower, pressing ourselves into the shadows of the corridor. The flickering torchlight from the hall barely reached us, giving us enough cover to avoid detection.
Roth took the lead, moving like a ghost as he crept closer, scanning every corner of the room. After a few minutes, he returned, his expression tense.
"Bad news. Those elite orcs? They're not just standing guard. They're in some sort of defensive formation around the warlord. If we attack, we'll be fighting all of them at once."
Dane muttered a curse. "Tch. That's a problem."
Vance crossed his arms, deep in thought. "Then we don't engage head-on. We pick them apart one by one if we can. If we alert them too soon, we're done."
Roth smirked. "I've got an idea. There's a shaman positioned at the rear—separated from the rest. If I take him out quietly, we'll weaken their magic support without tipping the others off."
Vance nodded slowly, considering. "A shaman, huh? Makes sense why they're standing in formation. He's probably reinforcing them with buffs."
Dane tightened his grip on his hammer. "And if you screw up?"
Roth rolled his eyes. "Then we deal with a pissed-off warlord and his entire honor guard at once. But I won't screw up."