The fog in the boss clearing thinned slightly, but not enough to give them a clear view. Visibility improved to roughly twenty meters, yet the giant tree at the far end still looked the same as before. Nothing moved. Nothing changed.
Ren and Lyra stood back to back, weapons ready.
“Something’s wrong,” Lyra whispered. “It feels like the whole clearing is watching us.”
Before Ren could answer, low growls rose from every direction.
Shapes emerged from the thinning fog.
Wolves.
Not a small group this time. A full pack of nearly twenty brown-furred wolves with grey stones embedded in their foreheads surrounded them in a wide circle. Their eyes glowed faintly with dungeon mana. These were not ordinary forest wolves — they were dungeon-spawned, denser and more aggressive.
Ren’s brows furrowed.
“Why are normal wolves appearing in the boss area?”
There was no time to think.
The pack charged as one.
Ren met the first wave with his longsword, using the basic swordsmanship he had recently learned. His movements were still not perfect, but his combat instincts filled the gaps. He cut down two wolves in quick succession, then twisted aside as a third leapt for his throat. Lyra’s wand flashed.
“Wind Blade!”
A sharp crescent of air sliced through three wolves at once. Lightning followed, jumping between several more. Even so, the sheer number pressed them hard. The wolves attacked from all sides, trying to separate them.
The fight was chaotic and exhausting. Without guns, every second counted. Ren’s arms began to ache from repeated clashes. Lyra’s breathing grew heavier as she conserved mana. One wolf managed to rake its claws across Ren’s forearm, drawing blood, before he killed it with a downward slash.
After several intense minutes, the last wolf finally fell.
The clearing went quiet again.
Scattered across the ground were wolf magic stones, claws, and fangs — materials that would sell for roughly fifty gold coins in total.
Ren wiped blood from his blade, breathing steadily.
“That shouldn’t have happened. Wolves don’t gather in boss rooms like that.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the ground beneath Lyra suddenly split open.
A thick, dark root burst upward with terrifying speed and wrapped tightly around her left ankle. Before she could react, it yanked hard, pulling her off balance.
“Lyra!”
More roots exploded from the earth around them. The slightly giant tree at the far end of the clearing began to move. Bark split apart with a deep, creaking roar. The trunk twisted, revealing a massive wooden maw filled with jagged fangs. Glowing green eyes opened along its upper branches. Thick roots tore free from the ground like giant limbs.
[Appraisal]
Evolved Tyrant Tree
Level: 25
Mid-stage Evolution
The boss had been underground the entire time, using the fog and the wolf pack as a distraction.
Lyra struggled against the root binding her leg, trying to cut it with a wind blade, but the wood was far denser than the juvenile Tyrant Trees they had fought before. Ren immediately rushed toward her, sword raised, only for several more roots to whip toward him like spears. He was forced to retreat, slicing two of them apart.
From a hidden position at the edge of the clearing, two figures watched the battle unfold.
Alex’s face was tense.
“They’re in trouble. Should we—”
“No,” Silvia interrupted coldly. “We do not interfere.”
“But if they die—”
“I want to see their real strength,” Silvia said, her eyes never leaving the fight. “And I want to confirm their true identity. Helping them now would waste this opportunity. We observe only.”
Alex fell silent, though his hands were clenched tightly.
Back in the clearing, the Evolved Tyrant Tree slammed a massive root down toward Ren. He rolled aside, the impact shaking the ground and sending dirt flying. Lyra finally managed to free her leg with a concentrated lightning blast, but the effort left her gasping.
The boss was stronger, faster, and far more intelligent than anything they had faced in this dungeon.
Root spears came from multiple angles. The tree’s main body slowly advanced, shaking the earth with every movement. Ren’s longsword was beginning to chip from repeated clashes against the hardened wood. Lyra’s mana was dropping quickly.
A particularly thick root shot forward and slammed into Ren’s side, sending him skidding across the ground. Pain flared through his ribs. He coughed once, tasted blood, and forced himself back to his feet.
This was no longer a fight they could win while holding back.
Ren’s eyes hardened.
He raised his free hand and opened the system storage.
Blue particles gathered.
In the next instant, the weight of the AK-47 settled firmly into his grip.