Super.Dawg
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Chapter 44
🕑 Added 2025-06-27 10:22:29 +0000 UTCThe meat glistened red, dripping fresh blood like an open wound.
Suri crouched low on the rocky outcropping, her brow furrowed in concentration. A shimmering line of mana thread extended from her fingers to the raw bait—a thread so fine it shimmered only when the light hit it just right.
She had skewered the meat with care after inserting her own mana to it, not just to hold it but to bind it. The mana within the thread was sensitive to movement, vibration, even pressure changes in the air.
Kana and Boris waited behind her, weapons ready, eyes on the shadows ahead.
“Now we wait,” Suri whispered, voice tight. Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of her face—rare for her, and not from exertion. It was the concentration. She wasn’t just controlling the bait, she was doing complex manipulation of the mana itself.
Minutes passed.
A howl echoed. Then another. Dozens of padded feet scraped against stone. The Horn Direwolves were coming.
Suri’s fingers twitched.
The meat slid across the rock, leaving a slick red trail behind it as she reeled it in—fast but not too fast.
It worked.
From the shadows they emerged—lithe, sleek monsters with curved horns and glowing red eyes. They didn't notice the trio. Not yet. Their noses were too full of blood-scent, their eyes locked on the prize.
Suri led them forward, around a bend, into the narrow fissure in the cave where Kana and Boris waited.
The trap had been set.
The moment the wolves entered the bottleneck part of the cave, Boris stepped into view. “Now.”
His [Giant Spear] activated with a burst of force, and he rammed it forward in a sweeping motion. Stone cracked beneath his feet. The wolves barely had time to snarl before the first row was impaled.
He spun. “[Consecutive Spear Strike]!”
The spear split into echoes of itself, each thrust a blur. There was no room to dodge.
Three more fell in seconds.
Kana’s arrow hit a leaping wolf midair. Second arrow didn’t. Kana clicked her tongue, they were now aware of her so using a bow became pointless. She didn’t wait for the body to fall before switching weapons. Her dagger flashed, catching another in the throat as it tried to flank Boris.
She moved like a shadow—fast and quiet.
“Too narrow for them to maneuver,” Kana said between breaths. “Their speed means nothing here.”
The remaining wolves scrambled, one leaping over its dying kin. It tried to retreat.
Suri whispered a command under her breath, and an illusion sprang up—another wall, another false cliff—sending the wolf crashing into it. It staggered, dazed. Her skill was somehow effective when the Horn Direwolves were in panic.
Kana was already moving. Her dagger found its mark.
Silence.
Smoke from the torch curled around the corpses. Blood pooled, steaming slightly on the cold stone.
Suri exhaled, finally letting go of the mana thread. “It worked,” she said with a soft laugh. “It actually worked.”
Boris grinned, already stepping over the bodies. “Let’s set it again.”
They repeated the process. Kana took the lead on tracking. Boris stood serving as another bait and tank. Suri’s mana manipulation shaped each trap more finely than the last. A second pack. Then a third.
The trapped part of the cave behind them was littered with bodies and blood.
And ahead?
A low growl.
The [Dungeon Boss] had arrived.
The trio froze.
No threshold. No warning door. No shimmering gate to signal a final fight.
The boss was already here. Running towards them.
Its hulking form stood in the shadows ahead, illuminated only by flickering torchlight and the eerie stone of the cave. It’s way larger over the Horn Direwolves they'd just slain—and unlike them, it stood on two legs.
A massive axe rested in its clawed hands.
“A Horned Werewolf,” the three said in unison. Not just a rare monster, but a named boss, the kind whispered about in books and tales of adventurers. Bigger and Smarter.
Kana’s hand flicked toward her [Inventory]. A heavy, rectangular shield materialized and clattered into Boris’s hands.
“Take it!” she barked.
Boris was no shield-bearer. He was an offensive spear type. But this wasn’t the time for preferences. It was survival. He strapped the shield to his left arm just as the werewolf raised its head and roared.
The ground trembled.
It looked at them.
And then it moved.
A blur of grey fur and silver horn shot toward Boris. He barely had time to set his stance. The axe met shield with a crash, steel shrieking, and the impact hurled Boris back five full strides.
He landed in a crouch, boots scraping stone. “I’m fine!” he growled. But his forearm trembled under the strain of the blow.
Kana nocked an arrow and released—clean, sharp, fast.
But the werewolf twisted. The arrow grazed its fur. Its red eyes snapped toward Boris again.
Suri raised her hands. “[Illusion Call].” A full-sized Orc shimmered into being beside the werewolf—hulking and ugly, a mirror of the beast’s own power.
It paused. Blinked.
Kana didn’t wait. An opening!
She dropped her bow, summoned another dagger from her [Inventory], and dashed forward. Like a shadow, she slipped through—low, silent.
Her blade came down toward its ankle, aiming for the Achilles.
Clang.
Metal. A type of armor.
“What—?” she gasped. No blood. Just gleaming plates hidden beneath its fur.
The werewolf turned, smiling with those awful eyes, its breath hot with bloodlust. It raised its axe.
Kana prepared to invoke [Dagger Assa—], but Boris was faster.
A smoke bomb flew from his belt, cracking open against the creature’s face.
Hissss. Smoke billowed. The beast howled and staggered back, clutching its eyes.
“Now!” Suri shouted.
Boris threw his spear and shield back toward Kana, who caught both with a grunt, flicking them instantly into her [Inventory].
They ran.
No hesitation. No second guesses.
The werewolf charged, blind but still fast, crashing into the cave wall as the trio dove for the exit.
Kana ripped three cloaks from her [Inventory], tossing them to the others mid-sprint. They tugged them over their shoulders.
They jumped. Out through the dungeon’s entrance. Into the cold night wind of the south wall cliffs.
Breathing hard. Hearts racing.
Kana’s knuckles whitened. Her mind replayed the fight, every movement, every miss.
“That thing is the hardest boss so far,” Boris muttered.
“Worse,” Suri said. “It saw through the illusion.”
Kana nodded slowly. “And next time, it won’t be caught off guard.”
They stood in silence for a long while. Then Kana spoke after looking at their bruises and bloody Boris.
“I realize we indeed need a healer..”
…..
Wor-en had watched them longer than he cared to admit.
Not obsessively, of course. Just… attentively. Like any good student advisor should.
The trio. Kana. Boris. Suri.
They didn’t act like special students. That was the problem.
While others buried themselves in books, training dummies, or guided meditations on their class affinities, those three seemed to drift through life like leaves. Oversleeping. Shopping. Eating. Laughing.
Classes? Once a week. Just enough to fulfill the minimum requirement.
Not once had he seen Suri break a sweat in Physical Enhancement I. Kana spent more time lounging with a book in the library than practising her dagger skills. And Boris—well, he did a lot of talking. About lifting. Why did he choose all of Kana's nerdy classes? A why a magical class like Suri is in the Physical Enhancement?
So why?
Why would Duke Stark sponsor them?
Wor-en tugged his collar straight as he stepped up to the girl’s dormitory. The hallway smelled faintly of lavender and old parchment. He rapped his knuckles on the wood of one of the rooms.
Suri opened the door.
Her hair was a tangle of curls and dreams. Eyes half-lidded. A pillow mark stamped across her cheek like a tattoo of rebellion.
Is she… half-asleep?
“Go to the principal’s office later,” Wor-en said crisply. “First assessment for the research-class candidates. The principal will also hand out this month’s allowance personally.”
Suri stared at him for a beat longer than necessary. Blinked. Nodded.
Then shut the door.
Not a word.
Wor-en exhaled through his nose. He made a note in his mental log: Potentially mute when drowsy. Or just rude.
He turned and headed across the stone path toward the boys' dorm.
This was inefficient. Most students were already gathered in classrooms. One announcement had been enough for all of them. But no—these three required extra attention.
Waste of time, he thought.
He reached one of the rooms in the Boy's Dormitory, knocked.
Boris opened the door.
Same look. Same tousled hair. Same faint glaze in the eyes. If anything, even more confused than Suri, like he'd just been interrupted from a good dream.
Wor-en gave the exact same message.
Boris blinked once. Nodded.
And closed the door.
Wor-en stood there, alone again. Even their reactions are the same.
He looked at the closed door for a full second longer, then turned, jaw tight, coat flapping lightly as he walked.
Lazy. That was the only logical conclusion. Lazy and lucky. Somehow, they’d stumbled into the good graces of power.
But Wor-en had learned something long ago.
Even luck had its limits.
And he would be watching to see where there's ran out. I must guide them when that time comes.
