The dwarves and company stepped into the crackling vortex of the dungeon and the world fell away. Colors twisted and bled together, sound vanished into an oppressive silence, and the solid ground beneath Stronric's feet dissolved into nothingness. For a moment, he felt weightless, suspended in a void where time seemed meaningless.

Stronric's heartbeat echoed loud in his ears, a steady drumbeat against the void. He reached out instinctively, but there was nothing to grab onto, not his axe, not his comrades, not even the faintest sense of himself. He wasn't falling, but he wasn't standing either. It was as if the portal had swallowed him whole, leaving only the faint hum of something vast and unknowable.

Then, with a burst of searing clarity, the SYSTEM spoke.

SYSTEM ALERT: INCOMING TRANSMISSION Dungeon classification: Dungeon upgraded to Overflowing Dungeon. Overflowing dungeon upgraded to Invasion Portal Danger level: CRITICAL

MAIN QUEST: RESTORE BALANCE

The world trembles beneath the weight of encroaching chaos.

From the depths of this twisted portal, a relentless force marches to destroy the fragile balance of life and order. At its heart stands the gnoll wizard, a master of dark and forbidden magic, commanding this invasion with ruthless malice. Yet even this formidable foe kneels before a power far greater, an ancient and unspeakable force driving this calamity forward.

A hero's call has echoed across the void, and you have stepped into the jaws of certain doom to answer it. To seal the portal and restore balance to the world, you must confront and defeat the Invasion Boss. Beware: with every moment of hesitation, corruption's strength grows, and the rift deepens.

Should you falter, the portal will stabilize, allowing the gnolls free reign to spread terror and ruin for the next decade. Thousands will perish, and the world will bear scars that may never heal before another opportunity arises to close the rift.

Objective: Confront and defeat the Invasion Boss, severing its connection to the portal and sealing the rift.

Failure Penalty:

The invasion portal will stabilize, giving the gnolls unrestricted access to this world for ten years.

Quest reward:

Shield warrior class book (Rare quality)

Optional QUEST 1: CRYSTAL HUNTER

The corrupted soul crystals are the heart of the invasion portal's strength. These twisted anchors pulse with malevolent energy, binding the portal's chaotic power to this realm. Each crystal feeds the portal, stabilizing its rift and empowering the gnoll forces that spill forth. Dark and evil magics have been used to create these unholy anchors.

Your task is to seek out and neutralize the corrupted anchors. Whether through destruction or purification, their power must be severed to weaken the portal's hold on this world. Beware: the crystals are heavily guarded, their locations shrouded in peril.

Objective: Locate and neutralize three corrupted soul crystals anchoring the portal.

Reward: To be determined after completing main quest.

SIDE QUEST 2: SURVIVOR'S SALVATION

Amid the jungle and stone of the dungeon, a rare life form clings to survival. Hunted by gnolls and predators, its resilience marks it as extraordinary. Free this trapped creature, and it may become a powerful ally, offering unique boons to its rescuer.

Your task is clear: seek out this survivor. Whether you find a creature, a plant, or something far stranger, its rescue may turn the tides of this conflict in ways yet unseen. Beware: the dungeon's guardians will not allow its secrets to be claimed without resistance.

Objective: Free the trapped entity.

Reward: will be determined after completing main quest.

Do you accept?

Yes/No.

Refusing to accept will return you to the entrance of dungeon. A ban of one week will be place on you upon refusing the quest.

Stronric reread the quests several times. He was mainly concerned with the enemy that was stronger than the wizard and guarded the center of dungeon. The wizard was going to be a tough fight but now that Stronric had his traits and had gained so many levels he wasn't as concerned as before. Mentally selecting yes, the void disappeared instantly. The void left as fast as it came and Stronric continued with his stride like nothing had happened.

Stronric walked into a small cave. Behind him the portal swirled a dim gray, blurring out the scene to the point it was hard to make out anything outside. Stronric looked around, a packed dirt floor was encased by jagged stone walls that led deeper to a black impenetrable wall a short distance away. A small noiseless blue explosion caught Stronric eye from the way he had come in and Bauru was standing there looking around in amazement as he stepped through the portal.

"No one else come through yet?" Bauru asked looking around.

"Nay, just ye so far. Ye get a couple quest as well?" Stronric asked.

Bauru nodded in reply as another noiseless explosion appeared and one of the adventurers from Giles' party emerged from the chaos. The man's plate armor was a testament to hard years on the battlefield. It was dented, rusted, and barely holding together, a mismatched collection of scavenged pieces that seemed more burden than protection. His massive gauntlet, once a prized weapon, was now held together by crude leather straps and hasty repairs, its surface marred by dents and scorch marks. The sword at his hip bore the same wear, its edge chipped and dull, yet carried with the care of someone who had no other choice.

Despite his battered appearance, the man carried himself with a grim determination. His deep-set gray eyes scanned the entrance with the sharpness of someone who had seen far too much. A jagged scar ran down his weathered face, a reminder that survival sometimes came at the cost of pride. He moved with the weight of a man who had endured and lost much, his shoulders hunched under the invisible load of years spent fighting for scraps of hope.

The man looked at Stronric and Bauru and nodded. Bauru didn't nod back but instead stared at the men with an intense glare. The man matched Bauru glared and the two stood there in silence until another explosion happened. Stronric glanced over as a faint golden light cut through the haze, revealing another member of Giles' party stepping forward.

Seren's once bright armor told a story of better days, now tarnished and scratched, with a faded sunburst insignia barely visible on her chestplate. Her white tabard was stained with soot and grime, fraying at the edges as if it had been through one too many battles. She clutched a crooked staff, its shaft bound with leather straps to hold splintered wood together, the faint glow of holy magic flickering weakly at its tip. Her gaunt face bore the marks of exhaustion, deep shadows under her piercing blue eyes betraying countless nights spent tending to wounds and pleading for divine guidance. Yet despite her weary appearance, there was a quiet determination in her gaze, as if the flame of her faith refused to fully extinguish. She walked over to the large man and set a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop it Dane, we don't want any trouble." She said in a soft voice.

Dane broke off the glaring competition with Bauru, locking eyes with the woman before turning and walking to the other side of the holding area. The woman nodded to the two dwarves and introduce herself. "The sun's blessing be upon you, I am Seren, cleric of Solista. We hadn't had a moment to introduce ourselves to you."

Stronric could see Bauru lip curl up in a sneer. Knowing that they would be working together Stronric decided to set an example. Bauru had slowly become a man hater. Rugiel had mentioned it to Stronric, but now he could see truly had bad it was becoming. Stronric set a hand on Bauru's shoulder and moved him to the side. Stepping forward, Stronric held out his hand, "Name Stronric, Thorthana blessing be upon ye as well."

The woman looked at Stronric hand as though he was holding out cow crap. She looked down at his hand, her eyebrows rising a little in disgust. She smiled and nodded but did not reach out to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you Stronric, I must speak to my friend." She replied as she turned around and walked over to the man named Dane.

Bauru started to take a step forward and Stronric grabbed his arm. "Leave it alone."

Another flash of light erupted, and from the chaos emerged a wiry figure cloaked in shadows. A thin man stepped into the clearing with silent precision, his patched leather armor hanging loosely over his lean frame. A hood obscured much of his face, but the sharp glint of his green eyes betrayed a calculating mind, always assessing, always watching. Twin daggers rested in his hands, their edges gleamed and made more dangerous in a skilled grip.

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The man's movements were smooth and deliberate, each step as quiet as the grave. He carried himself with the nonchalant swagger of someone accustomed to working in the dark, but his gaze flicked nervously around the group, as if already plotting his escape should things go south. "Nice welcoming committee," he said, his voice low and tinged with sarcasm.

Before Bauru could make another remark, the final figure appeared amidst a faint flicker of dim, reddish light. A woman strode forward, her robes tattered and frayed, though faint traces of shimmering frost still clung to the fabric. Her once pristine staff, now chipped and blackened at the edges, crackled weakly with residual frost magic. She sneered at the scene before her, her icy blue hair swept back in a tight braid that only emphasized her angular, gaunt features. "What a charming little gathering," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm as her piercing gaze locked onto Stronric and Bauru.

Giles' group gathered on the far side of the area, keeping to themselves and casting occasional disdainful glances toward the others. The tension hung heavy in the air as Bauru's grip tightened around his crossbow, his frustration barely contained.

Moments later, the portal shimmered again and Armand and Rugiel stepped through, their presence immediately easing some of the weight in the atmosphere. The two walked toward the dwarves, smiles on their faces as though they hadn't noticed the frosty reception.

"What are ye smiling about, Rugiel?" Bauru barked, his voice sharp and edged with anger. His lone eye narrowed as he glanced toward Giles' group, then back to Rugiel. "Is it just me, or are these folk the rudest bunch of manlings I've ever laid me eye on?"

"Bauru—" Rugiel began, her tone soft but firm, only for Bauru to cut her off.

"Nay, don't 'Bauru' me. That one," he said, gesturing towards the icy blue haired woman with a jerk of his thumb, "walked in like she owns the place, sneerin' like she's stepped in somethin' foul. And that man" his voice dropped to a growl as he nodded toward the rogue, who smirked from across the room, "looked at us like we're the dirt under his boots. I've had enough of their lot already!"

Stronric placed a steady hand on Bauru's shoulder. "Easy, lad," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "They're not worth yer temper. Let 'em stew in their own arrogance."

Bauru scowled but fell silent, his grip on his crossbow still white-knuckled. Rugiel stepped closer, her demeanor poised and unshaken. "Their behavior reflects on them, not on us, Bauru. We represent our hold. Let them see what true dwarven honor looks like."

Armand chuckled softly, his hands resting lightly on the pommel of his sword. "I agree with Rugiel, mon ami. Let their pride blind zem. It will only make zeir fall all ze more spectacular."

Though still fuming, Bauru couldn't help but smirk at Armand's words, his anger momentarily diffused. Still, his gaze lingered on the humans party, a silent promise that he wouldn't forget their insults so easily.

The air shimmered again as Giles stepped through the portal, his gold trimmed silver amour gleamed untouched by the chaos around him. Unlike the rest of his party, there wasn't a single scratch or scuff on his polished chestplate. His blond hair was slicked back, and his sharp features carried a smug expression as he walked towards Stronric, his boots clicking deliberately against the ground. He stopped just a few paces from Stronric and glanced at his companions, a thin smile curling his lips.

"Well," Giles said, his voice carrying a practiced, aristocratic tone, "Eet seems most of us 'ave arrived in one piece. Allow me to introduce my company." He gestured toward the large man in dented armor. "Zis eez Dane Ironhand, shield of our party and breaker of countless foes. A veteran of many battles, 'is strength 'as kept us alive in situations zat would crumble lesser men."

Dane gave a curt nod, his scarred face emotionless as his eyes flicked between Stronric and Bauru.

Giles continued, motioning toward Seren. "Ere we 'ave Seren, Lightbringer of Solista. 'Er divine touch 'as restored us from ze brink of death time and time again. 'Er faith burns bright, even in ze darkest of places."

Seren inclined her head slightly, her piercing blue eyes meeting Stronric's for a brief moment before returning to her group.

"And zis," Giles said, gesturing to the wiry rogue who stood lazily leaning against a crumbling rock, Eez Lirian, Shadowstep. A master of stealth and precision, 'is blades strike where eet 'urts most, often before ze enemy even knows 'es zere.

Lirian smirked and gave a mock salute, the motion casual and almost disrespectful.

Finally, Giles turned to the woman with icy blue hair and frost-rimed robes. "And Kara, known to many as Ze Frostbite. 'Er mastery of frost magic 'as frozen entire battlefields in an instant. A force of nature in 'er own right."

Kara's expression was as cold as her moniker, her icy gaze sliding over the dwarves without a hint of warmth. She said nothing, merely crossing her arms and standing silently beside Giles.

Giles then turned his attention to Stronric, his smile widening. "Now zat you've met my esteemed party, I suppose eet's only fair zat you introduce your... group."

Stronric stepped forward, his broad shoulders squared and his chest puffed out slightly. "Aye, we'll do that," he said, his voice firm, with an edge of pride. "This here is Bauru, Hunt Master of Hearth Fire. A ranger without equal, his aim never falters, and his instincts are sharp as a blade."

Bauru nodded, his single eye narrowing as he met Giles' gaze. "Pleasure," he said curtly, though his tone suggested anything but.

Stronric continued, gesturing toward Rugiel. "And this is Rugiel, Anvil Maiden of Morgal, chosen of the mad god of smithin'. She's the hammer and flame that forges both steel and warriors."

Rugiel dipped her head gracefully, her expression dignified. "A pleasure," she said, her voice calm and refined, though she made no attempt to mask her disinterest in Giles' pomp.

Stronric's gaze lingered on Giles for a moment before he added, "And I'm Stronric Wraith- Thane."

Giles raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Quite ze titles for such a small group. Let's 'ope zey're not all words."

Stronric's jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod. "Titles mean nothin' if ye don't back 'em with deeds. Ye'll see soon enough where we stand."

The tension between the two groups was thick, the divide as clear as the jagged line between their parties. Stronric's hand rested on the hilt of his axe, his calm demeanor masking the storm brewing inside. Giles smiled faintly and turned back to his companions, seemingly content to let the air simmer with unspoken challenges.

Before the thick tension could fully settle, Armand stepped forward with a wry smile, his armor clinking softly with the movement. He looked around at the group, his gaze lingering briefly on the stern faces of Stronric and Bauru before settling on Giles, whose smug expression hadn't faltered.

"Well," Armand said, his voice warm and rich with excitement,"It seems ze introductions are in order, zough I believe ze lot of you already know moi." He spread his arms wide, as if addressing a crowd, his grin widening. "I am, of course, ze unfortunate knight stuck wrangling zis charming band of misfits."

A chuckle escaped Rugiel, and even Bauru's scowl softened, though he tried to hide it. "I'll be ze first to admit zat I've been stabbed, trampled, and burned and zat's just from Dane's idea of teamwork." He shot a playful glance at the battered warrior, whose lips twitched into something resembling a grin.

"Ah, but zis is no time for jokes," Armand added with mock seriousness, holding up a hand. "I must also say zat I am ze best dressed knight here, even after rolling through mud. A feat, I might add, zat is worthy of respect."

Bauru snorted, shaking his head. "Best dressed, aye? At least ye don't smell like goat."

"Ah, Bauru," Armand replied, his grin sharp, "zat is because I leave ze goats to ze masters. I know better zan to compete with ze likes of you."

Rugiel hid a laugh behind her hand, and even Stronric's lips twitched upward into a brief smirk. Giles' group exchanged looks, clearly unamused, but Armand's humor had cut through the tension like a well-placed sword. He gave a small bow, his cloak sweeping behind him as he straightened.

"Now zat ze air is lighter, perhaps we focus on what truly matters," Armand said, his tone turning softer as he looked around at the two groups. "All of us here have ze same goal, even if we do not share ze same paths. Let us not forget zat when ze time comes."

Stronric nodded approvingly, the moment of humor diffusing some of his frustration. "Well said, Armand. Let's see if we can keep it that way once the fightin' starts."

"Now what?" Stronric asked looking around.

Giles looked at Stronric, "Ave you neva' been in a dungeon before?"

Stronric shook his head, Giles looked at him like he was a child before smiling. "Well, our next step eez to wait out ze time. Ze dungeon allows us a certain amount of time to prepare before it throws us into ze jaws of ze beast."

"How do we know the time allotted?" Rugiel asked.

The ice mage was about to say something before Giles cut her off. "For an invasion portal, eet's usually ten meenutes or so from when ze last of ze party joins ze holding area. I am sorry eet took me so long to get through ze quest and all. It shouldn't be so long now."

As the groups parted, the air filled with the sounds of preparation. The dwarves and Armand gathered near a cluster of jagged rocks, moving with practiced efficiency. Stronric knelt, inspecting the edge of his axe, muttering a prayer to Thoranthana under his breath. Beside him, Rugiel prepared her Warhammer igniting the blue flames of Morgal as she silently prayed. Bauru perched on a nearby rock, his crossbow balanced across his lap as his lone eye scanned the room, his posture tense but ready. Armand pulled his sword free adjusting the straps of his armor to maximize his mobility. With a quick movement a large claymore appeared in his hand. The weapon gleamed with a silver hilt, its intricate designs catching the light, while a sleek black cross guard flared with subtle elegance. The sheath, a masterpiece in itself, was a deep, polished black adorned with a striking gold and crimson rose embossed at its center, radiating both beauty and menace. Armand deftly pulled a set of reinforced straps from the side, securing the sheath across his back in one fluid motion. The weapon's handle jutted out just above his shoulder.

Across the room, Giles' group was more fractured. Dane adjusted his battered armor, tightening straps and testing the joints of his massive gauntlet. Seren stood nearby, her lips moving in silent prayer, her fingers tracing the faded runes on her staff. Lirian leaned against the wall, spinning a dagger lazily between his fingers, though his sharp eyes betrayed an ever-watchful readiness. Kara stood apart, her frost-rimed staff faintly glowing as she conjured and melted tiny shards of ice in her palm, her disinterest palpable.

Giles moved between his party, giving curt instructions. When he turned and spotted Armand lingering near the dwarves, a look of irritation flickered across his face. "Armand," he called sharply, "You'll accompany ze dwarves when ze time comes. You've fought wiz zem before, so you're best suited to keep zem... aligned wiz ze plan."

Armand straightened and turned toward Giles, his brow furrowing slightly. "I'll accompany zem because I trust zem, mon ami. Not because zey need to be 'kept in line.'" His tone was polite, but there was steel in his voice.

Giles raised an eyebrow but said nothing, dismissing Armand with a wave before turning back to his group.

Armand sighed and crossed the room, a faint smile softening his expression as he approached the dwarves. "Ah, mes amis, it seems I've been ordered to keep you out of trouble. As if zat were even possible," he said, his French accent adding a playful lilt to his words.

Bauru glanced up from his crossbow and and gasped. "You can try to keep us out of trouble? I've seen how ye swing that sword, knight. Shouldn't I be watchin' your back?"

"Perhaps," Armand replied with a grin, clapping Bauru on the shoulder. "But if I remember correctly, eet was your crossbow zat saved me last time, eh?"

"Aye," Bauru said, his tone softening. "But yer sword-work kept the gnolls off me while I reloaded. Ye've got good instincts, knight. Glad ye're with us. What' s with the big sword?"

Armand reached back and patted the weapon, a faint smile touching his lips. "She was a gift from my father-in-law when I wed my late wife. When I am on foot, zis is ze weapon I prefer, unless I must defend ozzers. You know, zey call me mad, oui? But I swear, I hear ze voice of my dear love, my late wife, singing when I wield it. Ah, pardon, forgive me, I go on and on about zis old blade."

Rugiel looked up from her hammer, a sober look on her face. "I am sorry to hear of your lose. I hope to hear her voice. We've been through worse together, Armand. It's good to have you by our side again."

Stronric grunted in agreement as he tightened the straps on his bracers.

Armand nodded, his expression briefly solemn. "I wouldn't be anywhere else. We've faced worse togezzer, and we'll see zis through as well."

The camaraderie between them eased some of the tension, but the weight of what lay ahead was still heavy in the air. Across the room, the SYSTEM chimed softly, signaling the countdown. A faint blue light spread along the black walls of the dungeon, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat.

Stronric glanced at the others as he rose to his feet, his axe resting heavily against his shoulder. "Ten minutes, aye? Then we see what this place throws at us."

Armand drew his sword, the worn but elegant blade glinting faintly in the dim light. "Zen let us hope zis dungeon knows who it's dealing with," he said with a grin. "For ze sake of its own survival."

Rugiel cracked a smile at that, shaking her head. "Your mad, knight. But I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back."

As the blue glow on the walls grew brighter, the two groups prepared in silence, each person steeling themselves for the battle to come. For the dwarves and Armand, it wasn't just about survival it was about trust forged in fire and the bond of comrades who had stood together against the worst the world had to offer.

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