Super.Dawg
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Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2025-06-26 10:20:13 +0000 UTCThe afternoon passed quietly, the trio lounging in their classroom, chatting. A few students were missing—Andel, the lancer, and Roy, the necromancer, were both absent, though no one mentioned why.
When night fell, their operation began.
After Suri casted the [Doppelganger], the three of them slipped into the Academy’s lesser-known exit—a narrow, hidden passage tucked between the southern dormitories. As usual, a few other students passed through it as well, faces shadowed, movements quick and quiet.
Kana’s steps slowed the moment they crossed the invisible line where cobbled streets gave way to uneven stone, and lamp posts grew further apart. The familiar Slum district, her instincts prickled. The memory of blood, of a boy in her arms, still lingered in her muscles like a phantom ache.
She said nothing, but Suri glanced back—just once.
From there, they descended.
Down stone stairs carved between forgotten buildings. Past rusted gates and old signage in a language few remembered. They entered the underground city. Not ruins, exactly. Just… the pieces left behind when the capital kept building upward.
Suri chewed on a skewer of grilled meat from an underground stall as they walked. The vendor hadn’t even blinked when she tried to haggle.
“It’s charred. Barely seasoned,” she argued.
“Still costs five copper coins,” the vendor replied flatly.
….
They reached the dungeon location of the south wall in the middle of the night.
The terrain beyond sloped steeply downward, too sharp for horses. It wasn’t natural. The earth looked like it had been carved—not by water or time, but by intent. Like someone had dug into the land with purpose.
They dismounted near a crooked tree half-buried in bramble. They tied off the reins, then Suri whispered a short incantation under her breath [Illusion Call]. A shimmer of mana drifted outward from her fingertips, and a second later the horses vanished beneath a ripple of illusion. To anyone passing by, the tree stood empty and forgotten.
They began their descent on foot.
Rough steps had been cut into the slope, worn smooth from years of use. The dungeon itself was buried near the cliff’s base. But even before they reached the mouth, they saw them—two guards.
They sat on mismatched stools, slouched, heads bowed. Their armor was cheap and dented, straps hanging loose. But Kana knew better than to assume they were asleep. With detection skills, they didn’t need eyes to see you coming.
Sure enough, the moment their boots touched the dungeon threshold, both men snapped to life.
“Who goes there?” one of them barked, already drawing steel.
Boris stepped forward—just as they’d planned.
He pulled his shoulders back, lifted his chin, and spoke in the deepest voice he could manage. “We’re here to kill a few monsters.”
Then he tossed a small pouch toward them. It jingled when it landed—heavy with silver, maybe a hundred coins.
The second guard caught it with practiced ease, weighed it in his palm, then looked the trio over.
“You’re training for the Guild assessment, right?”
Boris blinked, confused for a moment.
Then nodded.
The guard didn’t press. He slipped the pouch into a hidden pocket and leaned back in his chair, satisfied as if already used to this kind of business.
“You didn’t see us,” the first guard muttered, returning to his seat. “We don’t know you. You don’t know us. And you’re entering a mid-low tier dungeon. If you die, that’s on you.”
“Understood,” Boris said.
They stepped forward.
The familiar dungeon entrance shimmered before them—an arch of cold blue light hanging in the air.
Boris glanced at the other two. “Here we go.”
…..
The dungeon's entrance was nothing more than an empty cave—dark, jagged, and reeking of dried blood.
Kana stepped forward first. Her eyes narrowed, senses flaring. The place prickled at the edge of her perception, but she reached deeper with [High Awareness], filtering through the dungeon.
“Clear,” she said at last.
One by one, they equipped what they’d prepared. Boris tightened the straps of his heavy armor, the plates gleaming dully in the torchlight. Suri retrieved her compact mana shield from Kana’s [Inventory], slipping it over her arm, and adjusted her cloak. Kana fastened extra daggers at her side and slung a quiver of fresh arrows across her back. Even if she could see without it, she still lit a torch—mostly for the others. The flame danced as they stepped into the dark.
Then they heard it.
A chorus of howls.
Distant, but layered. Close enough to echo. Somewhere deeper in the mountain.
They froze. The air shifted—thin and cold, rushing like breath through an unseen throat.
Kana looked up. She realized, too late, this wasn’t a cave. It was a carved-out pass on the side of a mountain, open above, where the wind could scream, howling at them.
Suri reached instinctively for [Illusion Call], drawing on the mana around them to form a shield—but nothing happened. Her construct flickered, refused shape, and dissolved.
“It’s natural,” she muttered, eyes wide. “The wind. It's not made of mana.”
Then came the second sound.
Footsteps.
Not the clatter of boots, but the thud of padded paws. Fast. Coordinated.
“They’re here!” Kana shouted over the wind.
Boris dropped into a defensive stance, spear held wide. Kana nocked an arrow, her stance lowering, steady and still. Suri reached for another trick—an illusion that blurred her and Kana into the shadows, stretching their forms like fluid across the stone.
It was an ambush.
Horned direwolves emerged from every angle. The first wave came low—fast and low to the ground—while others moved along the ridge above, leaping down at intervals whenever an opportunity came by.
One dropped from above.
Kana’s arrow met it midair, but the creature twisted, her arrow grazing fur instead of flesh.
“Not good, they can react to my arrow.” she muttered. “I’m going in.”
Boris was already engaged, holding the line. His [Giant Spear] surged with mana and struck—barely clipping a lunging beast. The creatures were fast. Too fast. They weaved in and out of range like they knew his range limits.
Kana stowed her bow back in [Inventory], daggers in hand, and dashed forward.
She was faster.
Where Boris anchored their focus, Kana became a ghost. Her blades flashed, slicing at exposed flanks and hind legs. Blood spattered the ground. The direwolves turned, sensing her—but always too late. They noticed her only when her dagger was inches from flesh.
Suri's illusions scattered around them—orc warriors, slimes, human fighters—but the wolves didn’t commit to attacking them. They paused, glanced, then ignored them.
“They know,” Suri muttered. “They know what’s real.”
But numbers thinned.
Half of the pack lay bleeding across the stone, few of them died.
Then—one of them howled.
The rest retreated in a synchronized blur, disappearing into the dark beyond the wind, vanishing as suddenly as they had come.
Kana held her stance for a moment longer, then signaled with a hand. “Back. Mouth of the cave. Now.”
Once they reached the edge of the dungeon mouth, Boris sat heavily on a rock, his arm bleeding where a claws had grazed him, his armor was also full of scratch from the Horn direwolves.
He grunted, applying the ointment Kana handed him. “Just a scratch.”
Suri sat with her knees pulled up, the weight of failure sinking into her posture. “I didn’t help. Not really. I—I couldn’t distract them.”
Kana patted her shoulder, “They are your natural enemy.”
Kana shook her head. “We need to adapt. They were organized, fast. Too aware. Next time… I bet they’ll bring more.”
Boris looked up. “We need a real plan.”
…..
The trio sat in a shallow alcove just inside the dungeon’s entrance, where the howling wind couldn’t reach them. The stone beneath them still radiated a faint chill, but the small fire they built in the center of their makeshift camp pushed it back.
They had laid down blankets from Suri’s [Inventory], and Boris had already stripped a piece of his armor to treat the minor scratches beneath.
Suri, meanwhile, grinned over the fire. “This is perfect for roasted meat!” She turned to Kana and opened her hand. “Give me.”
Kana grunted. She knew this was coming.
Ever since Suri learned that anything stored in Kana’s [Inventory] didn’t rot—or age at all, for that matter—she insisted on storing food through her. Meats, fruit, even sweetbread from two weeks ago.
Speechless, Kana reached into her [Inventory] and pulled out a cut of raw venison, neatly wrapped. She tossed it over.
Suri caught it like a child catching candy. She hummed happily as she pierced the meat with a narrow spike of mana, firm and glowing faintly—a trick she had mastered. With the mana-skewer in hand, she began roasting the meat over the fire, seasoning it with crushed herbs and salt from a small pouch.
Boris watched with an expression of longing mixed with annoyance.
“You’re not going to share that, are you?”
“Sharing is for people who didn’t insult my illusion skills last week,” Suri said primly, rotating the meat.
Kana watched her in silence—then blinked. A thought formed.
“The meat,” Kana said.
Suri paused mid-bite. “Yes? You want it too?”
“No,” Kana said. “I mean Yes, as bait.”
Suri raised a brow. “Like... fishing?”
Kana nodded slowly. “We hang it out, leave it where they might find it. And you attach that mana thread trick then pull them out here.”
Suri’s chewing slowed as the idea took root. “A tethered decoy,” she said. “Good idea, I’m just not sure if I’m fast enough to pull them..”
Boris perked up, just realized what they were talking about, “Wait—you’re saying we lure them in, pick them off one by one instead of waiting for them to ambush us?”
“Or better,” Kana said, “lead them somewhere we choose.”
The fire popped softly between them.
“And while they chase it,” Boris said, “we surround.”
“For once,” Kana said, smirking faintly, “they’ll be the ones surprised.”
That is, if it works.
