They turned.
From the waves below, feminine figures began to rise, serpentine beings with seductive curves and sea-slick scales.
Their long tails swayed with effortless grace, torsos human-like but hauntingly pale.
Where their eyes should have been, there were only smooth hollows.
Curved horns adorned their heads, and bat-like wings flared from their backs, clearly the tools they’d used to reach the windows.
[Stoneback Siren]
[You have fallen under the influence of Charm.]
[Mana Control activated.]
[Charm effect: Nullified.]
Timothy’s eyes sharpened.
Of course, the dungeon had sirens, monsters built for seduction and death, their charm abilities crafted to unravel teamwork from within.
And that wasn’t all.
Between the hidden threat of the statues and these airborne predators, this "raid" had just turned into a massacre.
He flexed his fingers.
Armant activated, shimring across his hands in a protective gleam.
"Here we go..." he muttered.
He was about to shout a warning, but it was too late.
One of the warriors charged a siren with his axe drawn, only to suddenly freeze in mid-step and collapse, his body turning to stone, shattering into dust before hitting the floor.
Gasps echoed through the corridor.
"Don’t look at them! Close your eyes!" Timothy shouted on instinct.
"How are we supposed to fight them blind, especially with these statues creeping up on us!?" another hunter shouted back, voice full of panic.
Just then, a siren dived at the speaker, spinning midair and slamming him with its back.
The man raised his scabbard just in ti to block, but the power behind the siren’s montum still sent him tumbling.
Timothy watched carefully.
They bash with their backs first... use their tails as clubs... their horns are stabbing weapons, but less effective he analyzed
More sirens poured in through the windows, while the statues began inching closer, slow but steady.
They were being attacked from all sides.
But Timothy was already in motion, fists coated in Armant as he smashed a siren’s face in.
He never strayed too far from Miriam, keeping her in his peripheral vision even as he fought with relentless precision.
Confusion spread across the team.
Even the leader looked shaken, barely holding the frontline together.
"Keep your distance from them! Don’t attack! Focus on defense until we destroy the statues!" the leader finally commanded.
Timothy understood the strategy, stall until the real threat, the statues, were neutralized.
But with no signs of slowing and more sirens entering, even defense felt futile.
The team was getting picked off one by one, and nobody was left behind, just absent.
Within a minute, their numbers were down to six.
Timothy.
Miriam.
The leader.
The caraman, who, surprisingly, was a healer, and two mages, one of whom had stopped fighting completely.
Timothy could finally understand the pressure of protecting soone in a battle where he was the only one who could still see clearly.
His perception advantage made him an anchor. Subconsciously, everyone leaned on his movents, following his rhythm as he cut down sirens and shattered statues alike.
At least the sirens weren’t hard to kill.
The problem? They were everywhere.
"We didn’t end up needing the healers, huh?" the leader said between gasps.
Their circle formation had broken.
What remained was a splintered defense, barely holding.
"What’s the point of this? We’re not getting out..." murmured the wind mage, his spells halted.
He stared blankly ahead, body sagging with defeat.
He turned to walk forward to give up when Timothy suddenly yanked him back and threw a hard punch at a siren closing in.
"Team leader!" Timothy barked.
"I hear you, kid," the man replied, parrying with his shield and short sword.
"I’ll clear a path. Follow closely behind ," Timothy said, eyes focused and tone cold.
The leader looked at him and nodded.
"You heard him!" he shouted to the others.
"Follow his lead!"
All eyes turned to him.
Miriam, the remaining mages, even the sirens.
Timothy exhaled.
"It’s not like you have another option," he muttered and with that, he dismissed Armant briefly.
A machete materialized in his hand, its tallic glint catching the light.
Then he reactivated Armant, the green-hued energy wrapping around the blade and his arm.
The strain on his mana was imdiate, and he could feel it dip lower than expected.
His regeneration had helped, but sustaining Armant for long wasn’t an option.
The scarf unraveled from his back and Gray dropped to the ground silently.
Without another word, Timothy bolted forward.
He was a blur of ferocity, cutting down sirens without hesitation.
He gave up on defense entirely, raw offense was the only way through.
His blade danced through the air, guided by instinct and honed by pressure.
Gray, on the other hand, beca his sensor, relaying threats, movents, and changes in position through their link.
Whenever a threat neared, the scarf flicked, wrapping around enemies and flinging them into Timothy’s reach.
It was chaos but it was coordinated chaos.
And for the first ti since entering this dungeon, they had a chance.
With Timothy’s current strength, clearing the path was manageable.
For distant enemies, he activated the kinetic pounce skill embedded in his machete, launching forward like a whip to cut them down swiftly.
The team adapted quickly while the mages focused on keeping the sirens at bay, the team leader took charge of smashing the remaining statues.
Their formation held as they advanced through the hallway, but just as they neared the end, the sirens began to gather in greater numbers.
Notifications kept popping up in Timothy’s vision.
[You have been affected by Charm.]
[Mana Control activated.]
[Charm Nullified.]
Again and again.
But Timothy could feel sothing changing.
The charm resistance was stacking layering until it began to wear on him.
His reflexes dulled ever so slightly, and a strange weight pressed against his thoughts.
The effect was subtle but dangerous.
’Even if I close my eyes, it won’t stop. I doubt the cham skill only has to do with eye contact, I can’t stop now he thought
And worse, if he lost control, everyone behind him would be caught in it too.
He pushed himself harder until he saw the green hue fade from his machete.
’Shit. Mana’s out.’ Timothy thought inwardly.
That ant his Mana Control would likely deactivate soon.
Without it, the charm might finally take root.
A quick glance at the survivors behind him grounded his focus.
They were relying on him.
He couldn’t falter now.
Instead of panicking, he did sothing unexpected, he turned off everything.
Closed his eyes, muted his perception, and imrsed himself in Gray’s vision.
That was all he had left to rely on.
With nothing but instinct and their ntal link guiding him, Timothy fought on.
He took more hits and tanked heavier blows, but this ti, he understood the real reason behind his high HP.
It wasn’t just a stat, he was ant to endure.
Every ti his health dipped, he simply kept slashing.
And then sothing shifted.
His arms darkened, transforming into sothing primal.
The scarf around them writhed with energy, not for defense now, but to enhance his speed and power.
His entire presence turned feral, precise, and rciless.
From Gray’s point of view, there were only two categories in the hallway: enemies and allies.
Gray darted through the periter they’d ford, circling the team with relentless speed.
His movents were fast enough to draw everyone’s attention but his purpose remained unclear to them.
Miriam, however, was watching him closely.
They had made it to the end of the hallway.
The path was cleared.
But Timothy didn’t stop.
He kept slaughtering the sirens, one after the other until the final body dropped.
Then, slowly, he turned around and walked back toward the group.
His machete hung low, his steps deliberate.
Everyone noticed it at once.
His eyes were still shut.
"Is... is he okay?" one of the mages asked hesitantly.
"Don’t question the guy who just saved our asses," the fire mage replied without looking away from Timothy.
"Still... if he had that much power, why wait till now?" the wind mage muttered, and this ti, the question hung heavy in the silence.
Before anyone could respond, Timothy surged forward.
The leader reacted imdiately, raising his shield just in ti to block what looked like an incoming attack.
Miriam jumped back, startled.
The fire mage prepared to unleash his flas.
But Timothy stopped.
Just before impact.
He opened his eyes.
His irises had turned completely black.
He stared at them all, one by one.
"Tim!" Miriam called out, voice cracking.
The leader held firm, unsure if he should lower his guard.
But Timothy stood motionless, blade trembling in his hand.
Inside, Timothy couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
He couldn’t hear.
He couldn’t feel it.
But he could sense, five heat signatures before him.
Around each of them was a pulse.
A phrase.
"Do not attack.""
It repeated again and again, echoing in his head like a command.
He clutched his head, staggering backward.
The machete dissolved from his hand, vanishing into light.
He dropped to his knees, panting.
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