The Branded Tyrant bellowed, and the entire chamber trembled.
Its hulking body surged forward, each footstep leaving molten craters in the floor. Flames vented from its back like furnace exhaust, and its movements, though heavy, were deceptively fast—like a siege weapon fitted with a rage engine.
"Positions!" Raven shouted.
Duskrunner didn't wait for a second command—he vanished into the shadows.
Phantom Seer drifted wide, weaving around the perimeter of the chamber, its Distortion Aura already pulsing to unbalance the Tyrant's strikes.
The brute's arm reared back—a punch heavy enough to crush bones through armor—and came crashing down toward Raven's position.
He didn't dodge.
He parried.
Raven twisted his body just slightly, letting the punch glance off the reinforced bracer on his left arm, the shock vibrating up his spine like a war drum.
[First Heavy Strike Parried – 1/3]
"Two more," he hissed, sliding backward as heat peeled skin from stone.
The Tyrant roared and brought its chain-arm around in a wide horizontal sweep. Phantom Seer activated Phantom Step, blinking through the arc as Raven ducked low, anchoring his chain into the floor and using it to swing behind the brute's leg.
The ogre reacted instantly, stomping backward.
Another massive overhand blow followed.
This time, Raven met it with a forward leap, redirecting the momentum with both arms crossed and sliding down the side of the fist with minimal contact.
[Second Heavy Strike Parried – 2/3]
The brand on the creature's chest began to glow brighter. Steam hissed from its shoulders.
"Now, Duskrunner!" Raven barked.
From the flickering edge of shadow, the wolf-construct lunged. Shadow Shift carried him across the battlefield like a blink-strike, and he appeared directly beneath the Tyrant's ribs.
Claws met corrupted flesh.
The beast roared, twisting violently in a desperate attempt to retaliate—but it was too late.
The third heavy strike came—an overhead slam onto Duskrunner.
And just before impact, Raven whipped his Dominion Chain, the viper-tipped link wrapping around the descending arm and pulling just enough to redirect the blow into the ground.
The floor cracked.
The Tyrant's brand flared open—an exposed vent of molten energy pulsing like a second heart.
[Core Vulnerable – 8 Seconds]
"NOW!" Raven and Phantom Seer shouted in unison.
Phantom Seer's Haunting Mirage flooded the field with flickering ghost shapes, confusing the Tyrant's vision. Duskrunner struck again, claws finding purchase on the exposed brand line.
Raven activated Phantom Bind and blinked behind the brute's shoulder, appearing mid-air. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the dagger-tipped chain buried itself in the soft, glowing center of the brand.
A pulse of heat erupted outward as the Tyrant spasmed, venting flame in every direction.
[CRITICAL STRIKE – 68,092 DMG]
[MINI-BOSS HEALTH: 11%]
But the Tyrant wasn't done.
It entered its Overheat State, venting magma from its chest and back as it let out one final, furious roar.
Molten fists slammed the ground, creating radial shockwaves in all directions.
Phantom Seer teleported upward, slipping through the attack. Raven yanked his chain and flung himself against a wall, riding the momentum.
Duskrunner was caught in midair by the pulse but twisted out of it with a spin, landing with a rough skid. His body shimmered—Predator's Patience kicking in as the boss overexerted itself.
The wolf's eyes flashed.
He surged forward.
Claws glowing with dark energy, Duskrunner leapt one last time and plunged both forelimbs into the molten brand.
The Branded Tyrant reared back with a scream, flames bursting from its chest like a supernova—before it collapsed onto one knee and then fell face-first into the blackstone.
The fire died with it.
[Mini-Boss Defeated – Branded Tyrant]
[Item Obtained: Runestone of the Left Bellow]
[XP Gained: 294,850]
[Loot: 68 Gold, Charred Dwarven Toothpick (Junk), Smoldering Wristplate (Uncommon)]
Raven took a long, slow breath. "Why would a boss carry a toothpick?" Raven muttered as he read the loot list.
"Nevermind that, maybe i could give that to you, Phantom Seer. I heard that one of your subordinate carry their head around" Raven said nonchalantly as he pick the second runestone from the pedestal.
[Objective Update: 2/3 Rune Stones Recovered]
"I doubt that master, Silent Warden already use its two hand for holding its own head."
The tension in his chest didn't leave right away. His entire body still buzzed with the aftershock of the fight.
Even with full knowledge of the dungeon's mechanics… one misstep could've killed him.
"Still think you're invincible?" Phantom Seer asked playfully.
Raven cracked his neck. "Never said I was. I just act like it."
Duskrunner huffed and flicked molten dust from his tail. "We better not fight another one of those anytime soon."
🔓 The Lever of Release
At the end of the chamber stood a massive dwarven console—an embedded switch layered with thick dust, surrounded by faded murals of smiths praying before a forge.
As Raven approached, the mechanism reacted to the runestone he now carried.
The central pipe system roared.
A cascade of steam hissed upward through the forge chamber's ceiling. Distantly, metal clicked. Gears turned. A lock disengaged.
[Crucible Pathway – Left Bellow Activated (1/2)]
A cutscene window triggered.
He saw a distant view of the central hub—the right-side door slowly grinding open, molten light spilling from the crack.
🛣️ Return to the Central Road
With the fight over, Raven turned toward the back exit—the previously sealed wall now retracted, offering a shortcut to the main hub.
The return path was quieter. The vents were off. The golems inert. The system had deactivated all threats after the bellow's reactivation.
Still, Raven moved cautiously.
He wasn't going to assume anything.
Phantom Seer drifted beside him, silent now. Duskrunner padded ahead, stopping every so often to sniff the air, scanning for hidden threats.
But they encountered none.
By the time they returned to the hexagonal hub, Raven stood once again at the forge sigil.
The left segment of the ring now glowed a faint orange—activated.
He stepped into the middle, looking at the right door now cracked open, glowing like the throat of a dormant volcano.
"One down," he muttered. "Let's see what the archives have for us."
The forge beneath his feet pulsed faintly—awaiting balance.
And so, without ceremony, he stepped toward the right fork of the crossroad, ready for the next step.