Mana String

Her grip tightened around the warhammer. If she was going to die, she would make sure she took them with her.

A metallic taste filled her mouth as she forced herself to her feet, ignoring the blood dripping from her wounded leg. The pain was unbearable—like molten iron searing through her flesh—but she didn't have time to falter. Orin's sword gleamed under the dim light, still wet with her blood, his expression unreadable.

"Why?" Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The three remaining party members—Lucien, Aether, and Raelith—stood before her like executioners, their weapons drawn, their eyes hollow.

"You should have figured it out by now," Orin said flatly, stepping forward. "You were never meant to leave this dungeon alive."

Sooyeon's fingers curled around the warhammer's handle, her body shaking with exhaustion and fury.

Behind her, Sylphine's lifeless body lay in a growing pool of blood, her throat slit cleanly. Zephyr's corpse was barely recognizable—his chest cavity torn open, a gaping wound where his heart had been. The coppery stench of blood filled the chamber, mingling with the damp, musty air.

Her stomach twisted. These weren't quick deaths. They had suffered. Just like she was about to.

"All of it… was a lie?" She forced the words out, even though the answer was clear.

"Not all of it." Raelith scoffed. "You did save people. You did grow stronger. But the stronger you became, the better the sacrifice."

Sacrifice. The word sent ice through her veins.

She staggered backward, trying to process it all, but her mind was a whirlwind of betrayal and disbelief. Had it all been planned from the beginning? The summoning, the quests, the rewards—had everything been leading to this moment?

Orin sighed, his grip tightening on his dagger. "It's nothing personal, Sooyeon."

Nothing personal?

Her breath came in ragged gasps as the weight of their words sank in. Her vision swam, but she refused to collapse.

Then the air shifted.

A deep, unnatural silence fell over the chamber. The torches lining the walls flickered violently before dimming, shrouding the cavern in an eerie twilight. It felt as though something—someone—was watching.

A suffocating pressure filled the air. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It pressed against her chest, her skull, her very soul.

And then, from the shadows of the empty throne, something began to take form.

A mass of writhing darkness coiled and twisted, a storm of unnatural energy congealing into something solid. No—something alive.

Golden eyes snapped open, burning like twin stars in the abyss.

A monstrous figure emerged from the throne, its massive form taking shape. A humanoid torso, dark as obsidian and cracked like volcanic rock, pulsed with veins of molten fire. Its arms were grotesquely elongated, ending in talons that gleamed like onyx. But below its waist, a seething mass of serpents coiled and writhed, each hissing with hunger. Towering, tattered wings stretched from its back, blotting out what little light remained.

And its face…

A golden hood, embroidered with runes that twisted and changed before her eyes, partially obscured its features. But what she could see was inhuman—a cruel, knowing smirk stretched across lips too sharp, too unnatural.

Typhon.

A god. A monster. The father of all abominations.

He exhaled, the sound like a rumbling earthquake. "How quaint. A hero who still breathes."

Sooyeon felt her blood turn to ice.

The others didn't react.

Orin, Lucien, Aether, and Raelith remained still, unfazed—no, unaware.

They couldn't see him.

They are not moving.

Only she could.

Typhon's molten gaze drifted across the chamber before settling on her, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You see me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

She gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on the warhammer. "So you're the bastard behind this."

A low chuckle echoed through the cavern. "Bastard? That is quite the greeting." He leaned forward, resting a massive claw on the arm of the throne. "Tell me, hero… Did they at least tell you why you were summoned?"

"To kill you."

Typhon sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "How quaint. And yet, here you stand, bleeding out from wounds inflicted by your own comrades." He gestured lazily with one taloned hand. "Do you think that is mere misfortune?"

Her stomach twisted.

"You already know, don't you? The truth is clawing at the edges of your mind. Why don't you say it aloud?"

Her hands trembled. But she refused to answer.

Typhon grinned, revealing fangs too sharp, too inhuman. "You were never meant to slay me. You were never meant to be a hero." His voice lowered, dripping with cruel amusement. "You were only meant to be my collection."

Her breath hitched.

"Each time this world summons a hero, it is never to defeat me. It is to satisfy me." His golden eyes gleamed. "The stronger the hero, the higher the price. Just like a 'limited edition' in your world."

A sickness churned in her gut. The years she had spent fighting, struggling, believing she was chosen for something greater—it had all been a lie. She wasn't a savior.

She was product.

Typhon exhaled, almost disappointed. "They all fight, you know. Some with hope. Some with rage. Some with desperate prayers to gods who do not answer." He tapped a talon against the throne. "But in the end, they all look the same."

She refused to end like that.

With renewed determination, she forced her aching body to stand straighter, ignoring the searing pain in her leg. "I don't care about the others," she spat. "I'm not like them."

Typhon tilted his head. "Oh? I agree. You are a female after all."

Her grip tightened. "I'm not going to die here."

Typhon grinned. "Then entertain me, little hero."

The moment he spoke, the serpents at his feet lunged.

Sooyeon barely managed to twist away, her injured leg screaming in protest as a massive fang narrowly missed sinking into her shoulder. She slammed the warhammer into the serpent's skull, feeling the sickening crunch of bone beneath her strike, but another one was already coming for her.

She forced herself to move, ignoring the dizziness creeping into her vision. She wouldn't die here. She couldn't.

There's no way to win this head-on.

Typhon watched, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Run, little hero. Struggle. Let me see what makes you different."

She gritted her teeth. I need a plan.

But there was no time to think. Another serpent lunged, forcing her into a desperate dodge. She was fast—but not fast enough.

A searing pain tore through her side as fangs sank into her flesh.

She screamed.

Her warhammer came down in a blind arc, caving in the serpent's skull, but the damage was already done.

Blood dripped down her body, staining the cold stone beneath her.

Typhon rose from his throne, stretching his massive frame. "You're slowing down."

She panted, her limbs trembling. "Not… done… yet."

Typhon chuckled. "Good."

Another serpent lunged.

And this time, she wasn't fast enough to dodge.