Rise of the F-Rank Hero-Chapter 153: Kicked out

"ROAAAAAR!"

The roar was deafening. It shattered the quartz pillar. The shockwave knocked the Knights off their feet.

"What is that?!" Jason screamed, covering his ears.

The Hydra began to mutate. The black smoke twisted its crystal flesh, growing dark, obsidian spikes. Its size doubled. A sixth head burst from its neck in a spray of gore—a head made of pure shadow.

"It’s a Mutator!" Isolde shouted, horrified. "Someone used a Corruption Stone! It’s evolving the Boss into a Calamity Class!"

Oliver spun around, his eyes scanning the floor. He saw the fragments of the black stone near his feet. He looked back at the entrance.

He saw William, standing there with his hand still outstretched, a look of dawning horror on his face.

"You..." Oliver growled.

But there was no time for retribution.

The Mutated Hydra lunged.

*****

"SCATTER!" Oliver roared.

CRASH.

The central head slammed into the spot where the Knights had been standing. Three men were too slow. They were crushed instantly, armor and bone flattened into the stone.

"No!" Gerrick screamed.

"Left flank! Fire!" Oliver commanded, diving under a sweeping tail.

Lisa and Sophia cast their spells, but the Hydra’s scales had turned black. The firebolts bounced off harmlessly.

"Magic resistance!" Sophia cried. "It’s immune to Tier 3 magic!"

"Amy! Buffs! Now!" Oliver shouted.

Amy, shaking from the shock, raised her staff. "[Greater Haste]! [Iron Skin]!"

Golden light washed over the party, giving them just enough speed to dodge the next attack.

The Shadow Head opened its mouth. It didn’t bite. It spewed a torrent of black, acidic sludge.

"Shields!" Jason yelled.

He raised his greatshield. The sludge hit it.

HISS. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

The holy metal dissolved like sugar in hot water.

"AAAAGH!" Jason screamed as the acid splashed onto his arm, burning through his gauntlet. He dropped the shield, clutching his melting flesh.

"Jason!" Daniel rushed to him, dragging him back.

It was a massacre. The party wasn’t fighting a boss; they were fighting a natural disaster.

"We can’t win this!" Ren shouted, throwing a smoke bomb that did nothing. "We need to retreat!"

"The doors are sealed!" Gerrick yelled back, pointing. The black smoke had covered the exit, forming a solid barrier.

They were trapped.

Oliver rolled away from a snapping jaw, his mind racing. Conventional tactics were useless. The Knights were dying. The Heroes were panicking.

He looked at Isolde. She was fighting like a demon, darting between the heads, slashing at eyes, but her rapier chipped against the blackened scales.

"Isolde!" Oliver shouted over the roar. "The Shadow Head! It’s the source! We have to kill the mutation!"

"It’s too high!" she shouted back. "I can’t reach it!"

Oliver looked at the crumbling quartz pillar in the center of the room.

"Launch me!" Oliver ordered.

"Are you crazy?"

"Do it!"

Isolde didn’t hesitate. She sheathed her rapier and cupped her hands.

Oliver sprinted. He ran toward her, ignoring the three heads snapping at his heels. He stepped into her hands.

Isolde used her vampire strength and gravity magic.

"HUP!"

She threw him.

Oliver soared through the air, a bullet of black and leather. He flew over the chaotic melee, straight toward the thrashing neck of the Hydra.

The Shadow Head saw him. It screeched, opening its maw to bite him in half.

Oliver didn’t dodge. He twisted his body in mid-air.

He drew the spear he had reclaimed. He channeled every ounce of mana he had into the tip.

"[Thunder Puncture]!"

He didn’t aim for the head. He aimed for the open mouth.

THWACK.

Oliver crashed into the Hydra, driving the spear deep into the Shadow Head’s throat.

The Hydra gagged.

Oliver grabbed the black spikes on its neck to anchor himself, dangling fifty feet in the air as the beast thrashed wildly.

"DIE!" Oliver screamed.

He twisted the spear. He pumped lightning magic directly into the monster’s internal organs.

BOOOM.

The Shadow Head exploded from the inside out. Black ichor rained down on the party like oil.

The Hydra shrieked in agony, its other five heads flailing as the corruption was severed. The black scales began to crack, reverting to brittle crystal.

"It’s vulnerable!" Oliver shouted, dropping from the neck and landing in a roll. "Kill it now!"

The Knights and Heroes, seeing the monster falter, found their courage.

"FOR GARRET!" Gerrick roared, charging with his greatsword.

"DIE YOU FREAK!" Daniel screamed, driving his holy sword into a cracked scale.

Spells, arrows, and steel rained down on the weakened beast.

With one final, earth-shaking shudder, the Hydra collapsed.

****

The room was silent, save for the wet dripping of Hydra blood and Jason’s ragged, pained breathing.

Oliver didn’t just hold William; he pinned him like an insect. His hand was a vice of steel around the Hero’s throat, lifting his boots off the ground.

"Oliver! Don’t!" Daniel shouted weakly from the floor, trying to rise but too exhausted to move.

"Stay down," Isolde hissed, appearing beside Daniel in a blur of motion. She pressed the tip of her rapier against his Adam’s apple. "Or you join him."

Oliver ignored them. He stared into William’s eyes, watching the capillaries burst in the whites of his eyes as the oxygen cut off.

"You used a Corruption Stone," Oliver said, his voice quiet, terrifyingly calm. "Inside a Boss Room."

"I... I didn’t know..." William choked, clawing uselessly at Oliver’s hand. "I just... wanted to scare..."

"Four men are dead," Oliver cut him off, his voice devoid of mercy. "Jason lost an arm. Because of you."

He squeezed tighter. William’s face turned a sickening shade of purple. Desperation clawed at his mind, and his eyes darted frantically to the side, landing on the wounded warrior.

"F-Forgive me, Jason!" William wheezed, tears streaming down his bruised face. "You know... high-tier priests... your hand can be reattached! I’ll pay for it! Please... tell him to stop! Forgive me!"

Jason lay propped against a rock, clutching the bloody stump of his right arm. His face was pale as a sheet, beads of cold sweat rolling down his forehead. He looked at William—his friend since childhood, his comrade—and then at the severed limb lying in a pool of acid.

"Reattached?" Jason rasped, a dark, bitter laugh bubbling up from his chest. "Yeah... hands can be reattached. But what if it had been my head, Will? What if that acid hit my face?"

He glared at William, his eyes burning with a mixture of pain and betrayal.

"Even a Saintess can’t fix a melted brain. You didn’t care who got hit... as long as you got your way."

Jason turned his head away, staring at the stone wall. "Don’t talk to me."

"Now that it came to your life, you are no longer sympathizing," Isolde commented dryly, not moving her sword from Daniel’s throat. "Huh. Hypocritical. You didn’t care when he tried to kill Oliver."

"I told you," Oliver said, yanking William’s head back to force eye contact. "They are not going to do anything to help you. Even if they want to, I don’t think they can."

He leaned in close, his mask gone, his scars hidden, but his eyes more terrifying than any monster.

"Remember I told you... if you ever endangered my life... I would feed you to the dungeon."

He looked at the dead, smoking carcass of the Hydra. Then he looked back at William.

"But death is too easy for you."

THUD.

Oliver dropped him.

William fell to his knees, gasping for air, clutching his bruised throat, coughing violently.

"Strip," Oliver commanded.

William looked up, confused, slime dripping from his chin. "W-what?"

"Your armor. Your weapons. Your potions. Your dimensional bag." Oliver pointed to the pile of gear on the floor. "Strip. Everything."

"You... you can’t..." William stammered, clutching his chestplate. "This is Royal gear! Without this..."

"Do it," Gerrick growled.

The massive Knight Captain stepped up beside Oliver. His armor was dented, covered in the blood of his dead subordinates. He looked down at William with the eyes of a executioner.

"Or I’ll strip the skin off your bones myself."

William looked at Gerrick’s sword. It was still wet.

Trembling, crying, William began to undo the clasps.

Clang. The breastplate hit the floor. Thud. The greaves. Clatter. The dimensional bag.

Piece by piece, the "Hero" was dismantled. Within minutes, he was left in nothing but his thin linen tunic and trousers. No weapon. No items. No dignity.

"Now," Oliver said, pointing to the exit. The black bone doors were slowly unsealing, revealing the swirling darkness of the corridor beyond. "Get out."

"W-what?" William’s voice was a high-pitched squeak.

"Leave the party," Oliver said, crossing his arms. "You are exiled. You walk back to the surface alone. With no gear. No weapon. No map."

"But... the monsters..." William sobbed, looking at the dark doorway. "The Phase Stalkers... the traps... I’ll die! I can’t make it to the surface alone!"

"Then you better start running," Oliver said coldly. "Because if I see your face again... I kill you."

He turned his back on his former classmate.

"Get out."

William stood there, shivering in the cold dungeon air. He looked around the room one last time, begging for a savior.

He looked at Daniel, but the Leader had his head bowed in shame, unable to even look at the man he had failed to control.

He looked at Amy. She was wiping blood from her hands. She met his gaze for a second—her green eyes completely empty of warmth—and then looked right through him as if he were air.

No one spoke for him.

"A-Ah..." William let out a broken sound.

Fear—primal, consuming fear—took over.

He turned and stumbled toward the door.

"Wait! Wait, I can’t—!"

But the deadly silence of the room pushed him out.

He ran.

Angry, broken, and terrified, the former Hero William sprinted into the darkness of the 32nd floor, his screams echoing down the hall before fading into the silence of the abyss.