Traveling as zamasu

The air in the tunnel was thick with dust, ozone, and the faint stench of blood. Something else clung to it too—tainted magic, sharp and sour. 

Finn Deimne wiped a streak of grime off his face, his expression calm but sharp. He stood alert, small but commanding.

Riveria stood beside him, her posture rigid, staff upright. A faint green glow pulsed from the crystal at the top, casting soft light around them. 

She looked untouched by the chaos, focused as ever.

Gareth took point, his large frame nearly filling the tunnel. His shield, Grimmr Hrotti, was planted solidly in front of him, scratched and worn but still reliable. 

His axe rested casually over one shoulder, ready if needed.

Behind them, a group of seasoned adventurers from Loki Familia—mostly Level 4s and 5s—kept close. 

They were quiet, tense, weapons in hand and eyes scanning the dim tunnel. The green veins in the walls pulsed with light, casting shifting shadows that never stayed still.

"Status?" Finn asked, voice steady.

"Minor cuts," said a stocky Dwarf woman, tightening the strap on her warhammer. "Lakshmi caught some acid, but the potion's kicking in."

"Trap would've hit harder if not for the heads-up," added Spear Two, a lean Pallum with a short blade slung over his back.

Finn gave a short nod. 

That "heads-up" had been his whistle—just before the floor gave way and nearly dumped their front scout into a pit of acid. 

Riveria's quick Levitation and Gareth's yank on the man's harness had kept it from turning fatal.

That was Knossos. Everything looked normal until it wasn't. A place built to wear you down, layer by layer.

"Riveria, that barrier?" Finn asked, nodding toward the tunnel's end where a dark purple field pulsed, blocking their path. 

Vague figures shifted behind it.

"Dense," Riveria replied. "Laced with magic essence. Basic dispels won't cut it. Needs concentrated force."

Finn gave a short nod. "Prepare Dio Thyrsos."

"Gareth, brace up. Everyone else, tight formation behind him. On my mark, shield your eyes and hold steady. We're breaking through fast. Target any casters or controllers first—assume they're hybrids."

A ripple of tension moved through the group. Hybrids—those twisted monster-human fusions—were dangerous and unpredictable.

Riveria raised her staff. Elvish runes circled the crystal as she silently built up power. The air thickened with pressure.

Gareth braced behind his shield, steady as a wall.

"Now!" Finn ordered.

Riveria's voice rang out, sharp and firm. "Dio Thyrsos!"

A blinding beam shot from her staff, slamming into the purple barrier. 

Instead of exploding, the shield let out a sharp, unnatural shriek as it strained to hold. For a second, it held firm—then cracked and collapsed like broken glass. 

The beam tore through and hit the far wall with a thunderous impact.

*BOOM*

The shockwave slammed into them, even behind Gareth's shield. Dust and debris rushed down the tunnel, but Finn didn't blink.

"Move! Gareth, clear the way!"

As the blast faded, Gareth charged forward with a shout, bursting through the leftover barrier and thick dust. 

Finn followed right behind, spear in hand, and the rest pushed in close, moving as one.

The chamber beyond was chaos. It wasn't a natural cave, but an old stone hall, reinforced with twisted Evilus defenses—barricades of bone and shell, hidden pit traps, and glowing runes etched into the floor.

Dozens of enemies scrambled. Some dove for cover. Others rushed forward blindly, weapons raised and eyes full of madness. 

Mixed in with them were hybrids—grotesque combinations of monsters and people. Clawed limbs where hands should be, tails whipping behind armored backs, faces twisted by tusks or insect eyes. 

They didn't scream—they howled.

"Formation Delta!" Finn shouted. "Riveria, suppression on the left! Gareth, hold the middle! Spear Two, flank right and clear those barricades! Archers, take the high ground—priority on anything near Riveria!"

Chaos broke loose. Crossbow bolts cut through the air. A hulking hybrid—Minotaur-like, with scorpion pincers jutting from its shoulders—charged Gareth.

He didn't budge.

The pincers slammed into Grimmr Hrotti, ringing steel against steel. Gareth held firm, grunting as he absorbed the blow, then shoved back. 

The creature staggered. 

His axe swung up and down in one clean arc, cleaving through a pincer. Black blood splattered the ground.

"Hold the line!" Gareth roared, voice steady and commanding.

To the left, Evilus soldiers and smaller hybrids pushed to flank him.

Riveria didn't flinch. Her staff rose, her voice sharp. "Wynn Fimbulvetr!"

A controlled storm burst forward—razor-edged ice cutting through the attackers. 

Cries of pain filled the chamber as bodies froze mid-charge. The enemy flank crumbled under the spell.

Finn moved like a blade through the chaos—fast, precise, and efficient. 

He didn't waste time on drawn-out fights. 

Hell Finnega struck where it counted: a stab to a knee, a slash across a throat, a deflection that saved a nearby ally. 

His size made him hard to track, his footwork kept him always one step ahead.

His eyes never stopped moving, reading the battlefield like a map in motion.

"Spear Three, fall back!" he shouted. "Support Gareth—acid-spitter's locking onto him! Archers, volley on my mark. Cluster near the broken pillar!"

A beat.

"Mark! Loose!"

A volley of arrows forced a squad of Evilus fighters behind cover just as they were setting up a ballista. Finn didn't waste the opening.

"Push center! Gareth, move up five! Riveria, stop frost—prep Alf Lyngvig for the rear barricade! Go!"

The shift in momentum was immediate. Gareth barreled forward, slamming his shield into the wounded hybrid and knocking it back into two more. Riveria's chant changed mid-breath, magic thick in the air.

A beam of light tore through the barricade ahead, melting bone and stone alike. The path forward opened in a flash, sending Evilus fighters scattering.

"Through the gap!" Finn called. "Spear Two, rear guard—trap them in! Everyone else, move!"

They carved a path through the ruined hall, leaving wreckage in their wake.

Riveria alternated between wide blasts to clear chokepoints and sharp, focused spells to shield allies or break enemy lines. 

Her magic wasn't wasted—every cast hit with precision.

Gareth held the front, unshakable. He absorbed the heaviest blows and answered with crushing force, his axe rising and falling like a guillotine. 

Nothing got past him without bleeding.

At the center of it all, Finn guided the battle like a conductor. He spotted ambushes, called out traps hidden in the shifting stone, and redirected pressure before the enemy could regroup. 

He even used the dungeon's instability to their advantage, baiting foes into collapses triggered by tremors.

Morale stayed high—not from speeches, but from results. Their advance was brutal, efficient.

When a young swordsman fell, leg torn by a hidden caltrop, Finn was already there. "Healer! Cover!" A potion was applied in seconds. Two veterans shielded the man as he was dragged back into formation.

Finn's presence radiated control. They weren't just surviving—they were tearing Knossos apart, one barricade, one hybrid, one fanatic at a time.

After what felt like hours, but was probably just forty minutes of brutal, room-by-room fighting, they stepped into a massive, circular chamber.

The air changed immediately — thicker, warmer, almost vibrating through their bones. The source wasn't hard to spot.

Set into the far wall, behind a raised platform and layers of shimmering magical barriers, was a cluster of huge crystals. 

They pulsed with a sickly green glow, streaked with veins of deep purple. Each pulse sent waves through the floor and walls, as if the dungeon itself was breathing.

Finn didn't need to be told what they were. Regeneration Crystals. The kind that kept Knossos alive — repairing structural damage, fueling its traps and maybe even powering spawn points.

The chamber was a deathtrap.

Evilus had fortified it completely. Tiered walkways climbed the cylindrical walls, each lined with archers and mages. 

The floor was a twisted mess of trenches, spike pits, and low barricades — packed with fighters and more hybrids than they'd seen so far. 

The eerie green light from the crystals warped everything, stretching shadows and throwing off depth perception.

Finn took it all in with a glance. "Target sighted," he said flatly. He didn't need to say more. The pressure rolling off the crystals confirmed their importance.

"Heavy fortifications. Looks like they've got us outnumbered three to one. They've got high ground, too."

Riveria's gaze followed the upper tiers. 

Her voice was quiet but focused. "Multiple magic signatures above. Warding fields around the crystals. I'll need time and focus to break through them."

"Ground's packed," Gareth said, eyeing the crowd ahead as he adjusted his grip on his axe. "Hybrids look tougher too. That one's built like a Stone Golem but moves like a panther."

Finn scanned the chamber quickly. Everything about it favored the defenders. Charging head-on would get them all killed. 

They needed to break the formation, give Riveria a chance to focus, and get someone close enough to destroy the crystals.

His eyes flicked from barricade to walkway, tracking lines of fire, weak points, movement patterns. 

There—near the base. A collapsed stretch of wall. It offered partial cover and led toward the dais, but they'd be in the open for a few seconds along the way. 

Still, it was something.

"Alright, listen up," Finn called out, loud and clear despite the noise and exhaustion. "This is the anvil. We break it, we cripple a core function of Knossos."

He looked to Riveria. "Primary objective's still the crystals. First, take out those upper-tier mages and crack the warding fields. Focus fire on the western walkway—make them blind on that side."

Then to Gareth. "You're the hammer. We're pushing through that collapsed section near the base." He pointed toward the rubble. "It's our best shot. We move hard and fast."

He turned to Spear Two. "Secure the left trench line. Keep those hybrids off Gareth. Archers—get ready. Lay down suppressive fire on the eastern tier when I give the mark."

Just as Finn raised his hand to signal the attack, the air shifted.

A low, guttural roar cut through the chamber. 

It wasn't just loud—it vibrated the ground beneath them, a sound that felt wrong. It made the veterans freeze on instinct.

Across the battlefield, Evilus forces stopped. Then, like someone flipped a switch, they started pulling back—fast.

They were afraid.

From the shadows in front of the crystal dais, something stepped forward.

It stood over twelve feet tall—humanoid in shape, but twisted beyond recognition. Its body was layered in dark, scarred chitin that looked fused with muscle underneath. 

One arm ended in a massive crab-like claw; the other was a mess of barbed tentacles dripping with some thick, oily fluid.

Its legs bent backward like a beast's, and each step gouged the stone floor beneath it. 

The head was the worst—stretched and alien, covered in armored plating with several glowing red eyes scattered across its surface. 

Below them, a wide, jagged mouth let out a steady, guttural growl that synced with the crystals' pulsing light.

Spines jutted out from its back and shoulders, and the air around it shimmered, warped by a mix of heat and raw, sick energy.

It wasn't just guarding the dais—it was tied to it. Each time the crystals pulsed, dark energy ran along its body, syncing with the growl that rumbled from its chest. 

The connection was obvious and unsettling.

"Freya's tits…" one of the Dwarven axemen muttered under his breath.

Riveria didn't flinch, but her grip on her staff tightened. "High-level hybrid. Strong magical link to the crystal node. Physically enhanced."

Gareth adjusted his footing, planting himself solidly. His knuckles turned white around Grimmr Hrotti.

"That claw could split dragon-scale," he said quietly.

Finn's focus snapped to the creature. The careful plans, the calculated routes—it all took a back seat now. 

His thumb traced the smooth grip of Hell Finnega. This wasn't just another hybrid. This was a guardian, built to stop them cold. 

A living extension of Knossos's corruption.

The monster took one heavy step forward. The ground trembled under its weight. Dozens of red eyes locked onto Finn's team. 

Its giant claw rose, the jagged edges catching the green crystal light. The tentacles on its other arm writhed, twitching with anticipation.

Everything went still. The chamber felt like it had stopped breathing. 

Even the Evilus soldiers stood motionless, caught between awe and dread. Behind the creature, the Regeneration Crystals kept pulsing—steady, slow, and ominous.

Finn didn't flinch. The plan shifted instantly.

"New priority target! Gareth, hold that thing—keep its attention. Don't let it near Riveria. Riveria, stay focused on the crystals. Support Gareth only if he falters. Everyone else—we stick to the plan, just faster and tighter. That thing dies first! On my signal—"

He raised his spear. The silver tip caught the sickly green light.

The guardian roared again, deafening and primal, rattling stone and bone alike. But Finn's voice cut through it—calm, firm, absolute.

"ENGAGE!"

The chamber exploded into motion. The Loki Familia charged—not away from the nightmare, but straight into it. 

Their entire assault now balanced on Finn's tactics, Gareth's immovable will, and Riveria's overwhelming power.

The guardian lowered its claw to meet them head-on.

Chapter 39 end