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[Shapeshifter] Chapter 9: Left Behind
🕑 Added 2025-07-03 04:47:49 +0000 UTCBrandon blinked away the blinding light as his broad back met the backs of his fellow Hunters. He raised his tower shield, still glowing with the grey light of the Legion's aura.
Without the boss's powerful aura skill that follows anyone he buffs for two hours, we wouldn't have been able to survive this monster rush. Brandon thought as he looked at the death all around him. His arms were on fire, and his breath was heavy as the Buff of a Berserker from his team's mage faded. A rather pathetic state for a D-grade tank that had only been fighting E and F-grade wolves.
Everything had been going fine until this naked decoy appeared. That attack earlier means he’s a mage, yet he had no class? Brandon glared at the two level five wolves the fool had led to them. They still seemed surprised by the Holy Smite skill the decoy had unleashed, and the arrow Aria had shot, so they were busy howling for help.
It had turned into the worst-case scenario.
"Gerald, how's your mana holding up?" Brandon asked his group's mage. He was a new member of the Iron Legion guild, hardly a week-old greenhorn, and this was his second-ever dungeon raid under the guild banner.
"Not good, Captain," Gerald raised his staff, and Brandon could see his arm shaking from mana deprivation, "I got one more skill in me, and then I might faint."
"Shit." Brandon wasn't in much of a better spot himself. "Aria, how about you?"
The ever-diligent archer who had been his delving partner for the last year already had another arrow nocked in her bow, and she didn't even spare him a glance as she kept an keen eye on the wolves.
"I can keep going for a while," Aria said simply, "But I can only take one wolf out at a time before recharging my skills. If we get rushed, I’ll be useless."
Brandon grimaced. To think he might die here on the first floor of the World Dungeon. Sure, he knew this area was on the list for a potential dungeon rush, but that made the reward for clearing it out much more juicy. The higher the risk, the higher the reward.
It would have gone fine if not for this suicidal bastard. Brandon glanced at the two feet sticking out of the pile of corpses they had gathered on a wooden cart and noticed something weird. Six toes on each foot? His eyes narrowed. Is this guy even human?
Some monsters could imitate humans, but they wouldn't appear one the first floor like this. It was usually home to slimes, wolves, and other weak monsters that relied on basic tactics and skills.
"Aria, did you notice anything else strange about the naked mage?"
"Is now really the time for such questions?" Aria asked as she raised her bow, now crackling with golden mana, and looked down the length of the arrow as she aimed at one of the wolves, "But if you must ask Captain, he didn’t look where he was going while running, and when he rounded the corner I saw he was also using his arms to run like some deranged monkey."
"Mhm," Brandon hummed as he cycled mana through his body to try and lessen the built-up fatigue. He felt ignoring the warning signs and oddities of the person or thing who caused this situation was a terrible idea, but Aria was right. They had wolves closing in from both sides of the tunnel, and they needed to move. Now.
"What should we do, Captain," Gerald asked, his voice trembling. Mana deficiency was a terrible condition that could take days to recover from. Intense headaches, body tremors, nausea, and even memory loss were some of the symptoms, and it seemed it had begun for Gerald. Mana, a mythical energy that had bathed the Earth twenty years ago, was not something to fuck around with once you have made your body dependent on it.
"We charge toward the exit. Aria will take out the one on the right, and I will slam the one on the left. Hopefully, we can get past them and the northern fork before the wolves from the east side of the dungeon honor their packmate's calls and trap us here."
Aria finally looked at him in shock. "What about the corpses? We can't just leave them here—that's at least a few hundred credits worth of wolf meat."
"We leave them. Credits are useless in hell," Brandon lowered his body into a sprinting position with his tower shield held before him, "Okay, on my mark, 3, 2, 1—"
Brandon rocketed forward as mana empowered his muscles. His hair stood on end as Aria's lightning-empowered arrow soared past his ear, skewering one of the wolves square in the face. It howled in pain as the arrow pierced deep into its neck, and the golden mana singed its flesh and caused its muscles to spasm.
Swinging his shield like a baseball bat, Brandon smashed the other wolf in the side, audibly cracking its ribs and sending it flying into the dungeon wall with a crunch. It let out a pained whimper and slumped to the ground. Neither were dead but incapacitating them was good enough for now.
"Captain... I can't..." Gerald's wheezed gasps came from behind, followed by a thud.
God's sake, not now. Brandon glanced over his shoulder and saw Gerald had collapsed face first. His back was rising and falling as the mage gasped for breath, and even in the dim dungeon lighting, Brandon could see how pale he was.
"Swift Dash," Aria said, causing wind to wreath her form, making her long black hair fluttered behind her like a cape. Instead of stopping for Gerald, she rushed past them both, "Leave the greenhorn behind," she said coldly as she passed.
"Captain..." Gerald desperately reached out his trembling arm, "Please don’t leave me behind. I have my family waiting for me on the surface."
Brandon hissed through his teeth as he turned to offer Gerald a helping hand. "Here—" he paused as he heard low growling. Looking down the blood-stained dungeon path they had been fighting in before he saw three more wolves emerge from the darkness. The other two wolves they had incapacitated were also both slowly recovering to their feet.
"Ugh, the boss is going to do my head in for losing a greenhorn so soon," Brandon retracted his hand and moved to follow Aria—leaving the mage behind. His body was far too exhausted to carry a deadweight on his back.
The stock value of the Iron Legion will undoubtedly take a hit if news of Gerald's death is reported to the public. I wonder if his family will accept the hush money.
The Iron Legion's main selling point was its high survival rate for beginners due to the guild leader's S-grade skill, which gave a defensive aura that lasted for two hours. If news of a greenhorn dying in a beginner dungeon got out, it would bring the safety of the guild into question, and new sign-ups would plummet for a few weeks due to the Iron Legion's low signing offers compared to competitors like The Stormbringers or The Ether Technocrats guilds.
"Sorry Gerald! Good luck in your next life," Brandon shouted, and he saw the man's desperately raised arm drop in defeat. The grey aura of the Iron Legion still shielded him, so his death from the incoming wolves would be a slow one. Such a tragic fate.
Bradon's steps slowed slightly as a terrible smell made his nose twitch and his eyes water slightly. Confused, he followed the source of the scent and noticed it was coming from the pile of corpses they were abandoning.
Wait, where did that suicidal bastard's legs that were poking out of the pile go?
The pile of corpses also seemed to be shifting, as if something was moving below them—something big. Brandon's eyes widened as he saw a paw covered in blonde fur poke out of the pile.
"What the hell is that? A rare wolf variant?" Brandon didn't dare wait around to find out, pushing all the mana he could into his legs to run away. Shareholders and stock value be damned. He had no interest in dying today to some strange monster that had no right being here in the first place.
