The dungeon was a sprawling labyrinth of obsidian walls, its air cold and heavy. The ground pulsed with malevolent energy, making the hairs on Lucian's neck stand on end.
"This doesn't feel like an A-rank," Thorne muttered, his spear held at the ready.
"Stay sharp," Lucian ordered. "Something's not right."
They pressed on, cutting through waves of beasts that grew stronger with each step. It wasn't long before the air grew thick, suffocating, as the walls began to shimmer and twist.
"It's changing," Eira gasped. "The dungeon's evolving."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "Anomaly. This is no longer A-rank."
As if in response, the ground shook violently, and the walls shifted, revealing a massive chamber filled with the corpses of other hunters. In the center stood a towering creature—draconic yet not a dragon. Its body was serpentine, covered in jagged scales that glowed with an eerie crimson light. Its eyes burned with a hatred so potent it seemed to pierce their souls.
"It's a Wyrm of Despair," Xeran whispered, his face pale. "This… This is SSS-rank."
Lucian's grip on his sword tightened. "We're getting out of here. Eira, Thorne, back up Xeran. I'll take point."
But the Wyrm moved faster than they could react, its massive tail crashing down with the force of an avalanche. The ground split, screams echoed, and blood stained the stone floor.
"Fall back!" Lucian shouted, his voice sharp, unyielding. "Now!"
But they were trapped. The exit was gone, sealed by the shifting walls. The only way out was through the beast.