Super.Dawg
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Chapter 66
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 10:23:13 +0000 UTCSuri had told them earlier—they were hired for a raid tonight. A low-high level dungeon run. They would be hired finally as Dungeon Scrappers.
She adjusted her cloak as she peeked at Kana’s face in the dim light. “You look pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Kana nodded, though her eyes were tired. “Just a bit of a headache. Bearable.”
Suri frowned but didn’t press further. She knew what this meant to Kana. Opportunities like this didn’t come often, especially not for a team as fresh as theirs. Refusing now might get them blacklisted before they even started.
Still, Kana felt the dull throb behind her eyes—remnants of accepting the Bane Dagger Arts earlier. The weight of the knowledge was still pressing against her thoughts. But there was no time to waste.
She fastened her gear, and Suri helped her wrap a scarf over the lower half of her face before they slipped silently through the shadows of the academy walls. Of course, they prepared their own masks that were bought from a children's stall in the central district.
Waiting for them at the outer path was Boris, already cloaked and masked.
He glanced at Kana, noticed her condition. “We’ve cleared this type of dungeon before. If it gets too much, rest. Save your strength for the boss fight.”
Kana gave him a faint nod, tightening the grip on her dagger. “Got it.”
The three of them melted into the dark.
…..
They arrived at Rum’s inn at midnight. The place hadn’t changed—same crooked shingles, same half-lit lanterns swaying like drunks in the wind. What had changed were the masks.
Boris wore a bear mask—broad, fur-textured, and a little too realistic. It fit him. With that hulking frame and the way he moved like someone who’d never lost a fight, people gave him space. Suri’s mask was the opposite—feline, sleek, painted white and gold with delicate flares at the cheeks. It gleamed in the torchlight, elegant and just slightly unnerving.
Kana’s was simple. A small, brown dog. No embellishments. Just smooth wood, two dark eyes, and a short snout. She liked that. How plain it was. How it didn’t try to be anything more than what it was.
People noticed, of course. A few drunkards pointed. A merchant’s guard looked twice. Someone whispered and nudged a friend, calculating odds. Wanted to get a glimpse, the faces behind the weird disguise.
Then they saw Opel—calm, towering, wrapped in armor, holding a mace and huge shield resting on his back—and more importantly, they saw Boris. All thoughts of mischief disappeared. One big guy would be fine but two of them might be a little trouble for them. More than it’s worth.
The masks were more than useful as a disguise. It just didn’t cover their faces but also covered the color of their eyes, just enough to confuse recognition. Still breathable. Still comfortable enough.
……
“We’re here,” Boris said, voice muffled behind his bear-like appearance.
Inside, Asha and Opel stood from their table as soon as they saw them. Suri flicked her fingers, summoning a small constellation of orbs—shimmering droplets of light, water-like but tinged with color.
It was enough. Proof of their identity.
“Alright,” Asha smirked at their disguise. She turned and approached Rum’s counter, her hand resting on her sidearm with the casual ease of someone used to things going wrong.
“We’re complete.”
Rum didn’t bother greeting them. Instead, he gestured toward the woman beside him. Cloaked. Hood drawn. Even her posture seemed wrapped in secrecy. At her side stood a man—mid-thirties maybe—with a sword on his hip and the kind of sword that suggested it slain different things..
“She’s the client,” Rum said. “Heard about your last job. Insisted it had to be you five. Even moved her original preferred schedule to make it happen.”
The cloaked woman didn’t speak. Just nodded once.
“She wants the full package,” Rum continued. “Clear the low-high level dungeon. Kill the boss. She’ll go in with you.”
Rum cleared his throat, “By the terms of her agreement: you don’t speak of the client, the team, or their skills. You don’t abandon them unless they call for retreat, or unless the situation leaves no other choice which is subject to investigation. Payment: half will be paid on completion.
He tapped a pouch on the desk.
“I’ve already verified your work before. She trusts my word. What you did happened. And the five of you did that.”
They said nothing. That was part of the job.
They rode east, seven figures under the moonlight. The cold hung in the air, silent and pressing. No one spoke.
After a few hours, the forest thinned. Trees vanished. The ground changed—from loam, to dry dirt, to sand. By dawn, the world had become a desert. Flat. Bleached. Empty.
Even the wind had a different sound here.
Kana narrowed her eyes. Her head still ached from the vow she made, but her hands were steady. She could fight. She would fight. She had to.
Suri was on high alert, placing a few illusions ahead. It was a place her illusion didn’t reach before. It was outside the border of the kingdom after all.
They crested a small dune and saw it: the entrance of the dungeon.
A tear in the air, pulsing blue light.
Three soldiers of another kingdom waited beside it. Foreign uniforms—red-threaded cloth, light and loose, meant for heat. Metal bracers gleamed at their wrists. They weren’t tense. They were expecting them.
“We’ve arrived,” said the man beside the cloaked woman.
As they approached, the guards moved with quiet efficiency, reins taken, no words exchanged.
Kana dismounted, boots sinking slightly into the sand. She stared at the gate. Seven of them. One dungeon. No history. No names.
She exhaled slowly. The headache would pass.
….
Adam was a nomad, by blood, by birthright, and by the rhythm of the wind that danced across the endless wilds. His ancestors had roamed this continent long before kingdoms drew their lines in the soil and called them borders. Long before walls meant civilization, and anything outside them was labeled savage.
Things were different now. Borders meant rejection.
The nomads adapted.
They had to.
As children of the wild, they were all warriors. It wasn’t training—it was tough survival. And though the gods of fate had spun the dice, it seemed the dice only ever landed on one class:
[Barbarian].
A coincidence? Maybe. But every child born to their tribe awoke to that same class. Barbarians, every one of them. Stronger than any average class, capable of wielding any weapon with raw instinct, and vicious enough to survive in the wild.
But they couldn’t fight kingdoms forever.
So, a secret was born—one whispered between chieftains and kings.
Each clan would offer sons to the kingdoms. One to each, in exchange for safe passage through their lands. A century of diplomacy masked in bloodline.
The first son would inherit the title of chieftain.
The second son… would be sent away.
That was Adam.
His older brother stayed. To lead. His younger brother would be sent off next. Adam’s task was simple: Graduate from the Academy, become a citizen, and honor the clan’s agreement.
He didn’t hate the idea. But it still felt like exile.
Worse, a storm delayed his arrival by a week. That earned him a place in the Copper Class—the so-called failures. Latecomers. Misfits. Weaklings.
Except… they weren’t.
The moment he saw them, he knew. Because he trusted his instincts more than what records said. More than what people said.
Suri. Kana. Boris.
They were from some forgotten village no one seemed to know, but his instincts didn’t lie. As young as he was, he already fought beasts with hides like stone, survived frostwolves, and stood against rival clans. His instincts had kept him alive.
Those same instincts screamed as soon as he saw them.
They’re strong. As strong as Father. Maybe more.
And yet, they were easy to speak to. Kind, even. Kana and Suri—their beauty was shocking, sure, but it was the way they moved that unsettled him. He feared them more than liking them. Boris had the presence of a mountain that chose not to fall on you even though he was smaller than him.
And the worst part?
None of them acted like they knew how powerful they were. They were even labeled as lazy students.
Adam occasionally taught Boris ways to push his muscles further—simple things. Breathwork, posture, how to control a surge of strength. But even then, the man seemed... uncertain. As if he didn’t know where he’d learned how he became so strong.
How did they get so strong?
Adam had no answers. But he’d seen enough to keep his mouth shut.
The classroom door slid open with a creak.
“Anyone seen Kana?” Leo peeked inside, scanning the rows.
Adam looked up from his seat, arms crossed behind his head. Leo was a noble—a strange one. Not arrogant, not aloof. The fact that he knew the trio, said a lot.
“They’re probably still sleeping,” He answered. “I’m waiting too.”
He grinned. “Wanna wake up Boris?”
Comments
Apoca
Well, Adam is in for a surprise. And Leo will of course tattle. Not out of malice, he is just a bit clueless about keeping things to himself
