Inside the boss room, the air was thick with the scent of molten stone and blood-soaked metal.
The last roar of the dungeon boss echoed like thunder through the massive stone chamber before it finally collapsed to the floor with a tremendous crash, kicking up debris and dust in all directions.
Its armor cracked like old bark, its enormous axe tumbling to the side with a metallic groan.
Elius stood in the center, shoulders rising and falling with steady, practiced breath, his expression calm.
He hadn't even broken a sweat.
This was deliberate.
He had held back.
There was no need to exhaust himself. Not when the reward was guaranteed.
Not when he knew the real prize of the dungeon wasn't just safety, or loot, or treasure—it was the Martial Skill hidden at the end.
Each of his current companions—Keith, Zhark, Fraven, and Shania—had the system created a Martial Skill for them.
