The hallway ended in a cavernous chamber easily a thousand feet across in all directions. Gravestones dotted the entire landscape, and the smooth ceiling was dotted with thousands of tiny pinpricks of light—crushed white glowstone—that looked like the night sky. Those same pinpricks of light shone with enough combined vigor to illuminate the entire area like a full moon on a cloudless night.

  The graves were in all manners of condition: from stone freshly polished to cracked in half and fallen over.

  Peter sighed. “More undead? I was hoping for something different.”

  “Looks like this floor has a theme,” Naomi said. She shot a glance to Eric, and he nodded to confirm her assumption.

  All floors in a mega dungeon have a theme. Same with the dungeons that show up in the world randomly; those are inspired by whatever shadow of another reality they draw from. This first floor is undead themed.

  Shannon pulled out her arbalest and strung it. “Should I go in and scout again?”

  Eric shook his head. “No. I think whatever is in here will activate when we enter. I have a feeling you won’t trigger it with whatever Trait you have that seems to keep you from being noticed.”

  “Ah. Right, that makes sense.” Shannon hoisted the arbalest onto her shoulder. “Well, then, I’ll just be ready to run and gun!” She seemed eager for redemption given the near-disastrous slip in the acid chamber.

  Peter walked forward confidently, and the others followed close behind. Naomi was at the center, with Eric and Shannon on either side of her. The cavern air, which had been still up until that point, began to swirl, pushing the green grasses to and fro. A keening howl echoed out, and the graves began to burst apart. Dirt was thrown aside, and clawed, skeletal hands rose from the dirt. Peter hefted his weapon and stood at the ready.

  Eric watched in morbid fascination, just as he had the first time he was in this room, as the skeletal bodies emerged fully and let out screeches from nonexistent vocal chords. Their eyes glowed a deep, sinister purple, and that same purplish glow surrounded their bodies and acted as muscle and sinew, connecting bones and providing structure. All of them had had their bodies severed below the waist, and as they screeched to the skies, grey phantasmal energy coalesced under them into the forms of horses.

  “Centaurs?” Shannon asked quizzically.

  “Seems like it,” Peter growled.

  Yeah, basically skeletal centaurs held together with mana.

  Unlike the zombies his group had previously fought, with their various paralytics and poisons imbuing their strikes, these creatures relied on sheer force. Their arms twisted and cracked before shifting to scythe-like blades, and they began to gather up into a cavalry unit.

  “That looks dangerous,” Naomi sharply commented.

  Eric walked up next to Peter and raised his arm over the man’s shoulder. “I’ve got this one.” Eric spent a Sigil, watching as the mark of Blackflame vanished from above his left, outstretched hand. He activated Cinderburst. The tiny bead of black formed in his palm before racing out, into the center of the formation, and then exploded.

  Crack! Kaboom! Fsssh!

  The tiny bead detonated with a force that blew apart the formation, sending the Graveborn Striders in all directions as they struggled to maintain footing on spectral hooves. Some bones and body parts were blown away entirely, yet the lingering Blackflame Blaze continued to devour their forms. The bone was charring, turning black, becoming ash, and the purple magic holding them together withered away.

  However, he had only heavily damaged the group, not actually destroyed any outright. The splintered formation recovered in smaller clusters, reformed ranks, and resumed their charge. Eric rapidly fired off Blackflame Bolts at each of them, trying to rotate through targets—he wanted to refresh the damage-over-time effect and stack more of the blaze. The exhaustion built up as he fired Rote after Rote into the oncoming forces.

  Shannon was busy as well, shooting off huge arbalest rounds into the center mass of the skeletons, punching spines out, forcing their forms to dangle loosely. They were still a charging threat, but were now unable to bring their weapons to bear.

  Naomi only fired a few times, the loud rifle shots echoing out with a crack each time she pulled the trigger.

  “Split up! Shannon, left; I’ll go right; Peter, stay here; Naomi, behind Peter!” Eric gave the orders, then moved to the right, using Ash Shroud as he ran. The coating of black along his body left afterimages as he tried to split up the incoming charge. Risking a glance back to the tunnel entrance, he saw Seraphine, who had a serious expression on her face whilst she jotted notes down.

  We need to deal with this in an impressive way. I don’t want to burn more Sigils right now, since that Corpse Amalgamation is going to be a bitch to deal with, even with my foreknowledge. But with this many targets—

  “Shannon! Use your multi-shot Skill!”

  He heard her affirmative from across the large room, and Eric watched as the arbalest round shot out, split, and slammed into some of the skeletal monstrosities that had fragmented into smaller groupings. The ones she hit had limbs blown off, though the phantasmal bottom halves kept running. “They aren’t going down!” she shouted.

  “Hurt them more!” Eric shouted. He had to tear his attention away from his allies to deal with the three Graveborn Striders bearing down on him. They were almost upon him, so he lobbed a trio of Blackflame Bolts to strike each individually, refreshing the burn and adding new ones. Then, they reached him—he dodged one of the scything blades by side-stepping the charging monstrosity.

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  Another one slashed at him from above, so he dropped into a squat to avoid the blow. The third one came in on his right, but because of how he’d dodged the first one, the scythe sliced into his arm. He let out a hiss as pain coursed through him. It hurt, and he was unused to feeling injuries, since in his past life he had used barriers. He wasn’t a stranger to pain, but it had been so long, he’d forgotten what it was like.

  “You fucker!” he shouted as he spun with the blow, dropping to a knee as the three entities wheeled about for another charge. Eric fired off another trio of Blackflame Bolts, though he felt his mana running low and his breath came in ragged gasps.

  I might have to use another Sigil here.

  Thankfully, the burning damage-over-time seemed to do its job; a few seconds after the figures began their second charge, they collapsed and fell into piles of ash that coalesced into spheres that rolled to a stop. His body was suffused with warmth and his wound began to heal over.

  Eric ripped his gaze away from them and saw Naomi, clutching her leg, blood streaming out between her fingers. Peter was beset by three of the Graveborn Striders. They were taking turns riding at him and delivering wicked blows. Some were aimed at him, some at Naomi who was right next to him. Eric saw the scything, bone blades skate off of Peter’s armor with a screech of metal as he intercepted those strikes, taking the pain for his injured ally. A few of the weapons found flesh, and Peter’s body seemed to glow a deeper, bloodier red the more injury he suffered.

  He’s getting more durable and hitting harder. Reaver turned out to be a good choice of a first Class given the situation. It’s still a bit worrying we don’t have a reliable way to heal him, but there’s nothing for that right now.

  Eric scanned to try and spot Shannon, but she was nowhere to be seen. He did, however, notice the trio that had split off after her, wheeling in circles in the distance.

  Good. She’s distracting them. That means I can help out the others.

  Eric kept his range and fired off more Blackflame Bolts until he was completely exhausted, one knee on the ground. The most recent bolt he’d tried to fire had petered out and fizzled in his grip. His mana was completely tapped.

  Good thing I grabbed this.

  He pulled the pack off of his back, snagged the crossbow, and quickly strung it before racking back the string with the hand-crank. After putting one of the bolts in place, he took aim at one of the Graveborn Striders and let fly.

  The bolt went wide to the left and vanished into the grass. Eric let out a grunt of frustration and re-wound the crossbow, slotted another bolt into place, and tried again. Another miss. On his third attempt, though, he scored a hit against one of the mounted foes.

  By that point, Peter had dealt with one of them, but another slipped past his guard and delivered a fierce blow to the spot between the shoulder and helmet—right at the neckline.

  Eric had expected a near-lethal blow, but the weapon barely nicked the skin. Peter reached up, grabbed the bone-scythe-arm, and with a roar, yanked hard. He swung the entire skeletal centaur like a club, slamming it into the other one and sending both crashing to the side.

  Naomi had recovered her senses by that point, and she raised her gun and fired off shots. Panic was written across her face, though, and she was near-hyperventilating once more.

  Eric grabbed the pack, slung it over his shoulder, and began moving back toward his allies. He paused every few steps to socket another bolt and fire again until he was out of ammunition. Thankfully, with Peter’s rage-fueled strikes and Naomi’s panicked shots, they put down the group of enemies in the immediate vicinity.

  Naomi looked at Eric with wide eyes, filled with fear. She tried to talk, but nothing came out.

  Eric ignored her and walked up to Peter, who was huffing in deep breaths as blood dripped from cuts and gaps in his armor. “We still have three to deal with over there. Don’t lose your head.”

  Peter looked at him, and the glowing, blood-red eyes visible through the visor lost their hue. “Yeah. We have to help Sis.” He shook his head. “Shannon. I meant—”

  Eric waved it off. “Come on.” He grabbed Naomi and dragged her along; she staggered after him, favoring the injured leg. Eric got onto her other side and put her arm around his shoulder to alleviate the load. “Peter, I’m out of mana. It’ll take a bit to come back. That means it's on you.”

  Peter let out a laugh. “This is fucking easy. I’ll crush these things! Shannon! Bring them my way!”

  Shannon suddenly appeared about fifty feet ahead of them, and the three Graveborn Striders that had been circling where they’d seemingly thought she was—almost two-hundred feet away—wheeled about to charge her down. She turned, knelt for a more stable firing platform, and shot the arbalest at the center-most target. The bolt struck right in the middle of the phantasmal horse part, and the bolt practically ripped the thing in half.

  The other two kept charging, and as she reloaded Peter ran up next to her and took up a ready stance. She got the next round set and fired it off, killing the one on the right. Peter swung at the last one just as it got into reach and obliterated it with a single blow.

  “Why’d those ones die so easily?!” Naomi shouted in frustration.

  Eric sighed in relief as the room brightened in color, the glowstones in the ceiling illuminating with stronger light. “My damage-over-time, maybe?”

  Shannon walked over to Eric with a little skip in her step, then stopped as she saw Naomi’s leg. “Oh my God! That looks bad. Are you going to die?”

  “She is not,” Seraphine said as she approached with the guards. “You performed well, and as I said we have healing at our disposal to help you out.”

  Eric waved her off. “I’m good. Just a scratch.”

  “I’m good also,” Peter said. “Being hurt makes me stronger and tougher.”

  Shannon shrugged. “I didn’t get touched.”

  Naomi looked at Eric, then at Seraphine. She lowered her voice to a whisper, so that only Seraphine could hear her and not the guards. “Would these guys taking notes about us see it as a weakness to be healed? I can deal with the pain here, if it’ll be better for us later on.”

  Seraphine’s lips curled into a little smile. “If you can manage that? Yes.”

  Naomi nodded. “Then I think we’re good. Eric, want to start gathering up the Monster Parts?” She tore a section off the bottom of her shirt and wrapped it around the leg wound.

  “Not yet,” Eric said as he looked around. “Something is wrong.” He spotted a skeletal figure in the distance. A massive version of the same Graveborn Striders they had just fought.

  That . . . that wasn’t here last time. And we haven’t received the milestone notifications ye—

  He heard that same voice whispering in his ears he’d experienced when they’d entered the mega dungeon. The same heat as when his Vital Heat Trait activated rushed through him, and he felt rejuvenated as his mana fully refilled. A new, unfamiliar message from The Paths filled his vision.

  [Holder of a primal force, you chart yourself an unknown course. A proper challenge must be given, and winning is the only way to continue your mission.]

  [Holder of primal force detected.]

  [Additional challenge activated.]

  [Full restore - granted.]

  [Defeat the Graveborn Corpserider, and receive an Ember.]

  Seraphine looked back and her face shifted in confusion. “What . . . is that?”