"Melf's Minute Meteors!"
With a low, muttered incantation, flames ignited in Anthony's hands. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the scorching oval stone.
Twenty Strength already bordered on Extraordinary might—twenty-nine was a Legendary power beyond most people's wildest imaginations. Enhanced by such monstrous force, the ordinary stone tore through the air with a sonic boom, its sheer momentum far deadlier than any Flying Knife. The Hook Horror lurking in the Shadows barely registered the sound before the projectile struck its flank, leaving no chance to dodge.
Thud.
The stone shattered the Hook Horror's bony armor and punched clean through its body. The impact not only left a gruesome gaping wound but also pulverized its innards. Even a Monster couldn't endure such agony—black blood foamed from its maw as it let out a hoarse, pained shriek before collapsing in convulsions.
To the Adventuring Party, lacking Darkvision, all they heard was their Master murmuring an unfamiliar spell, followed by the sound of something ripping through the air. Then, a raspy screech echoed in the distance, and finally, the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground.
"Holy shit!" Though the exact phrasing varied, the sentiment was universal.
"Stay alert. Keep moving." Anthony's expression remained unreadable, as if this were nothing more than a trivial distraction.
The teammates pressed forward. The dead Hook Horror revealed its position, and Yoda cautiously approached with Torches in hand, exhaling in relief at the sight of the lifeless, motionless monstrosity.
Seems like there's always a bigger fish. When the Master struck, this Hook Horror was no tougher than a stray dog.
Only then did the creature's true form become visible to the group.
It was a terrifying being, towering even over a Celestial Warhorse when upright. Its limbs resembled a Human's, yet its features bore a Vulture-like grotesqueness, with some Insectoid traits mixed in. Most striking were the two dull, sickle-like sharp claws replacing its hands.
Hence the name—Hook Horror.
This was Anthony's first time seeing one in the flesh. Frankly, it looked like a joke—less like a natural creature and more like the botched experiment of an Evil mage who'd had one too many drinks.
Still, the EXP was decent—a solid 175 points. A rare lucrative encounter.
Anthony's profession penalty was absurdly high. As a pure-class caster, leveling from four to five required a staggering 10,000 EXP. The only silver lining was that his teammates didn't siphon any of his kill rewards.
If there were enough Hook Horrors here—say, a hundred more—he could hit level five and unlock a long-awaited spell from The Book of Pink.
Baleful Polymorph.
Zad gave the Monster a tentative kick, confirming its demise before eagerly praising, "This infamous Hook Horror couldn't even withstand a casual strike from the Master! Master, why don't you rest for now? Let us handle the stragglers. We'll only bother you if their numbers grow overwhelming."
Anthony didn't respond, coldly continuing forward. Zad hurried after him, while Tegal swung his blade at the monster corpse.
It didn't budge.
Shocked, Tegal gripped his sword with both hands and aimed for the chinks in its armor, managing only a two-finger-deep stab.
Enough to kill, if done right. He yanked his sword free and rushed to catch up with the group.
Even as a Paladin, the oppressive darkness unsettled him.
Loneliness was far more terrifying than Monsters.
Unlike the clueless fools around her, the Little witch was utterly awestruck.
She couldn't cast the spell herself, but she recognized its name.
Or rather, the name of its creator.
Melf's Minute Meteors—a spell devised by a reclusive elven Prince. He could have lived in luxury among the Elven Royalty, but his thirst for adventure and unwavering sense of justice led him to the Arcane. His passion turned him into a Legendary Figure, his practical spells enduring through the ages, his tales whispered Across Planes.
Rumor had it he was handsome, a master of Swordsmanship—but that was a Big Shot from another realm. Whether he was even alive now was a mystery. Lolo had only seen sparse mentions of him in spellbooks.
She remembered the texts describing Minute Meteors as dazzling—exploding on Contact, the meteors acting as +5 Extraordinary Weapons capable of piercing even the toughest Monster defenses. So why did Master Anthony's version differ so much?
Had he modified it in secret?
Even more terrifying—Anthony rarely gestured, his voluminous sleeves obscuring whether he even used spellcasting motions.
His spellcasting speed was absurdly fast, making her wonder if this was the fabled automatic Silent Spell.
A Legendary Ability even her mother couldn't wield.
And most baffling of all—he handled the flames without fear, unharmed. A sign of Fire Elemental affinity beyond even most archmages.
Which raised the question—just how old was Master Anthony?
That was the Little witch's most pressing concern right now.
He looked young, but among mages, using magic and Rare Items to extend one's lifespan and maintain youth was hardly unusual. Even her own mother didn't appear much older than her.
But even if the Master were one of those prodigious Legendary Figures, he'd still have to be at least in his thirties—far older than her.
And that was the best-case scenario. If he turned out to be some ancient geezer…
The Little witch's melancholy was hers alone to bear. Meanwhile, Anthony remained expressionless, staring ahead as he effortlessly spun a lie: "Echolocation."
He feigned deep concentration, eyes closed. The others held their breath, not daring to disturb his Perception.
When he opened his eyes again, he took in his clueless teammates and decided to go all out.
With a casual slap to the Paladin's Shield, he uttered, "Light Spell."
The command took immediate effect. The Paladin's iron Shield blazed to life like a hundred-watt bulb.
Anthony nodded in satisfaction. The underground was dim enough—this didn't need to be blindingly bright. Still, it would undoubtedly attract plenty of Hook Horrors' attention.
Having a Tank was so convenient.
"Be wary—thirty meters ahead, left side, behind the Stone Pillar. A Hidden Enemy. With Light Spell active, you won't need Torches. Go get some practice."
As the eager teammates rushed forward, Anthony picked up a few more suitably shaped stones—just in case.
At full force, these things hit harder than his Searing Rays.
Meanwhile, guided by his directions, the group advanced toward the Hook Horror's position, halting about ten yards away.
The Little witch began spellcasting. Since the Monster was Hidden behind cover, she opted for Rock Press again—an area-effect spell.
The only difference? Last time, the Tunnel's low ceiling had constrained her. Now, she channeled fully, conjuring the Magical Tracking twenty meters above.
A massive boulder plummeted from midair. If it connected, the Hook Horror would suffer serious blunt-force trauma.
But reality rarely matched expectations. The Hook Horror's Hearing was unnaturally sharp—the moment the falling rocks made noise, it sensed danger. Though one struck it, the creature scrambled out of the impact zone.
Now, however, it had stepped out of the Shadows—right into their line of sight.
The Paladin charged in, Shield raised. His forceful impact sent the Hook Horror stumbling back two steps. Seizing the opening, the Rogue emerged from the Shadows, driving a sharp Dagger into the Monster's knee joint. Zad, gripping his Longsword with both hands, thrust it deep into the creature's flank.
Just as he prepared to twist the blade, a whoosh of air warned him of the infamous claw descending toward his skull.
Cold sweat broke out on Zad's forehead. He abandoned his sword, rolling away—only for Yoda to leap into action. The nimble monk kicked off the nearby Stone Pillar, using it as a springboard to launch himself at the Hook Horror's skull.
Stunning Fist!
Though Yoda's natural Strength was modest, two Trials had boosted it to a solid 14. The punch struck the Monster's vulnerable nape, sending it lurching forward.
With a sharp exhale, Yoda lightened his body, gripping the Hook Horror's shoulders before driving a kick into its neck. The Monster finally lost balance, crashing helplessly to the ground.
Its nearly 400-pound frame hit the floor with a dusty thud. The group wasted no time—swords and daggers rained down in two furious volleys until the Hook Horror stopped moving, blood frothing from its mouth.
"Goddammit, we need Warhammers. This wouldn't take half as much effort with the right tools," Zad grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow.
"If you hadn't bolted, we could've finished it a round earlier," the Dagger-wielder muttered under his breath.
"Oh, piss off. Easy for you to say—you wouldn't stand there and take a claw to the face either," Zad shot back, unimpressed by the weak jab.
"...In the same time, the Master's already killed four Monsters. I don't even know why you're arguing," Lolo sighed, thoroughly exasperated by these guys.
The group exchanged glances, the bickering suddenly feeling pointless. But Anthony was just getting started.
With light and noise drawing them in, Hook Horrors kept appearing—this pulling strategy was working.
Snap. Snap. Snap. The Dagger-wielder's cloak, Zad's Longsword, and Yoda's tunic all flared to life with Light Spell.
The spell's illumination covered more ground than Torches, though without the heat. Now, with four humanoid light sources, the surroundings were crystal clear.
But it also made them glow like fireflies in the pitch-black depths.
While the increased visibility offered some comfort, the actual danger had arguably doubled.
Even Zad understood that much.
As the group's faces paled, Anthony spoke calmly: "For strangers, your teamwork is passable. But that won't push your limits. From now on, you'll scatter and face Monsters alone."
Zad's face fell. "Master, fine, buff the others—but why me? I'm not as quick as them, and I don't have a Shield! How am I supposed to block those things?"
Yoda didn't look thrilled either. A 300-pound Monster? Hell, even a 300-pound pig would hurt if it rammed you.
But Anthony wasn't in the mood for negotiations. His tone turned stern. "Not bringing a Shield is your own fault. You think Enemies will go easy on you for being unprepared? Move. Now. Or don't expect me to bail you out when things get ugly."
Relief washed over the group. At least the Master wasn't completely throwing them to the wolves.