The Siren's Prey

Fighting the harpies wasn't as easy as I'd expected. Individually, their combat power was pathetic — the problem was numbers. With six of them coming at us at once, tanking the lot with a single tank was no simple job.

Yohan was a bit of an unlucky bastard, but his skills were the real deal. Even so, he was still a beginner. Eventually two harpies slipped past and came straight for the damage dealers. The one silver lining was that a harpy's actual fighting ability was weak.

"Watch out!"

Lina's Chain Disaster was a powerful crowd-control skill in its own right. She bound one of the harpies that had broken through toward us. Sujin stayed calm and executed her technique.

"Water Wall!"

A wall of crushing water pressure unfurled in front of us like a waterfall — a technique more than capable of pinning trash mobs in place. I loosed a Holy Arrow at the harpy that couldn't close the distance because of the Water Wall. I'd been putting in steady shooting practice, so I was confident in my accuracy.

Kieeeeek!

With a grotesque shriek, the harpy's head was punched clean through by the sacred arrow. You piece of shit. For all its threatening look, its defense was basically zero. Then again, it lived in a beginner dungeon — of course it was.

The harpy bound in Lina's chains suddenly went limp and collapsed. She'd used the same Chain Drain she'd shown during the Hunter exam — a vicious technique that absorbed the life force and mana of whatever her chains had bound.

"Kh! DPS! What's taking so long!?"

Yohan, sporting a few minor wounds, called out to us in a rush. The blonde dickhead tangled up in melee beside him hadn't managed to drop a single one and was flailing around in a panic. He swung his arms wildly, but the harpies evaded him with mocking aerial maneuvers, toying with him as they flew. I'd noticed it during the Artificial Dungeon run too — melee-type abilities were especially fragile in a group fight.

"We'll back you up!"

Sujin and Lina surged forward together, and a combination of chains and Water Arrows cut the harpies down. The remaining three couldn't break their assault and crumpled. The two of them moved as if they could read each other's minds, their combination flowing like water.

"Phew…! I almost died!"

The blonde dickhead — whose entire contribution had amounted to a frantic folk dance next to the tank — muttered as he wiped the sweat running down his face.

"Six of them at once… Even if the individual monsters aren't that dangerous, that's way too many, isn't it?"

Lina murmured, looking puzzled. Yohan nodded as if he agreed. So did I.

Their combat power had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been pathetic, sure, but the numbers alone had been a serious threat. Judged purely on difficulty, this fight had been far harder than anything in the Artificial Dungeon. When the enemy count climbs, monsters slip through. If we hadn't kept our heads, we'd already have had injuries on the damage-dealer side.

"It's a bit different from what the Association staff told us. Well — they're not gods. They can't know every variable inside a dungeon."

"You think so?"

It had been hard, but we'd won. Yohan came over to me and pulled off his shirt. Scrapes from harpy talons and beaks stood out across his skin. Fortunately, nothing serious.

"I'd appreciate some treatment."

I pulled a potion and ointment from my pack. My techniques weren't mature enough yet to snap-heal like some game cleric. What I could do was accelerate the medicinal effects of potions and ointments — and that alone made my value as a healer perfectly clear.

I spread the potion and ointment over his wounds. Touching some guy's flesh was a nauseating experience, but this was my job, so I didn't have a choice. After laying down gauze, I cast the heal.

"Light Heal."

The wounds would close soon enough. The pain seemed to fade; Yohan's grimace eased and he got to his feet. We still had a long way to go.

"We're only at the entrance. We can't afford to burn time here. Let's keep moving."

He said exactly what I was thinking. We started forward again. The dense forest felt different now. This was a labyrinth. No matter how skilled a Dungeon Hunter you were, you could never guarantee survival inside a dungeon's maze.

Our objective was to investigate the markers deeper in the dungeon. They were inscribed on trees, rocks, or the ground itself, and there were eight in total. Rounded Nest was a medium-sized dungeon — about three kilometers in a straight line. Our movement speed inside ran roughly three kilometers an hour, so if we did nothing but walk, we could cover it in under an hour.

Of course, that was a naked calculation with combat and rest stripped out, so hunting down every marker was expected to take at least three to four hours. Factor in the return trip and the whole exploration would run about five. That was the conclusion we'd reached through research ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and planning sessions before we ever stepped inside. We were about to find out what a spectacular miscalculation that had been.

"Hah…! Hah…! Hah…!"

Sujin was gasping for breath. The way she looked, sheened in sweat, was beautiful enough to drop straight into a photo spread. Unfortunately, this was not a situation in which I could properly appreciate that beauty. The tremor at the corners of her eyes told me her stamina was scraping the bottom of the tank.

"That's already the fourth wave. We're about halfway, right?"

At Lina's question, I checked the map. Map reading was a required subject in the training course. Unfortunately, we hadn't even made it halfway. Three hours had passed since we'd entered the dungeon. If things had gone to plan, we should have been at the far end by now — or at least close to it.

"The only monsters showing up are harpies, but the numbers are no joke. Hmm… this is looking pretty dangerous."

Yohan looked up at the sky with a worried expression. It was a clear, sunny sky. But this was the inside of a closed-type dungeon, and that sky was a space that had nothing to do with the real one.

We'd run into harpy flocks four times already, and every single wave had numbered five or more. The last one had been a full eight. If Yohan hadn't drawn on everything he'd learned so far to raise his multi-target tanking, we would have been completely wrecked.

His body was already a map of wounds. He wasn't combat-incapable yet, but if this kept up I couldn't promise a future. We hadn't even pushed through half the dungeon, and we'd only found two markers.

"The difficulty's all wrong! This is supposed to be easier than the Artificial Dungeon?! That's complete bullshit!"

The blonde prick threw a fit. He was an idiot, but I understood this particular outburst. I wanted to throw one just like it. This dungeon's difficulty was sitting above the Artificial Dungeon's, not below it.

"What do we do? Should we give up?"

Turning around was an option. Obviously, that would mean our monumental first dungeon run was a failure — and that failure would come back as a serious penalty. If word got out that we were rookies who couldn't even clear the training-center dungeon, everyone would look down on us. We all knew it, so we just kept glancing at each other.

"Let's rest first and think it over. Fortunately the only monsters coming out are still harpies, so if we take it slow we might be all right."

Everyone nodded at Yohan's words. I didn't want to admit it, but that guy's leadership was pretty decent. Like coasting through a group project, it might be best to ride his coattails this time.

Food wasn't a problem. For dungeon work you always packed at least three days of rations, because you never knew what might go wrong. They were flavorless calorie bars and nutritional supplements, but they were engineered to fill you up — one and you were done. We sat down in a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠decent spot and took our rest.

Kieeeeek!

We were in the middle of a simple meal when a high, sharp cry suddenly rang out. Another of those goddamn harpies? But it was a little different from the voices we'd been hearing. I looked up at the sky, tension tightening across my face.

"What is that? That doesn't seem like a normal harpy."

Sharp-eyed Yohan caught the wrongness immediately. We got to our feet and readied for a fight. A sudden dread crawled up my spine, as if a thin blade had been laid against my throat.

Whooooosh!

Something huge dropped out of the air like a landing plane. It was a speed even a Dungeon Hunter's reflexes could barely track. That something snatched Yohan — who'd been holding the front — and soared.

"KRAAAH!"

What had struck him was an enormous harpy. No — it seemed a little different from a harpy.

"It's a Siren!"

The blonde prick jabbed a finger at the giant bird-monster and shouted. I looked at it again. A body roughly twice a harpy's size. Beautiful feathers ornamented in pink and blue. A hooked beak like an eagle's. Eyes like rubies. It matched the Siren from the monster encyclopedia down to the last detail.

"A Siren!?"

A fucking Siren? A monster incomparably stronger than any harpy had just appeared. Sirens were the kind of thing only a Rank 8 Dungeon Hunter or higher could hunt. In this zone they sat beyond bosses, beyond named monsters — they were untouchable. And a Siren in a dungeon like this? Did that even make sense?

"Oh my god! Kyaaah!"

Lina screamed. The Siren suddenly beat its wings at tremendous speed and shot upward. One of a Siren's habits was to drop captured prey from high altitude, smash it to pieces, and then eat what was left. That thing was going to crumble Yohan like brittle candy and devour him.

"Yohan!"

Lina's scream was sharp enough to cut, but it couldn't stop the Siren's climb.

"Water Arrow!"

Sujin's attack didn't even come close. The Siren climbed as if we weren't worth a glance. Roughly estimating, it had gone up over a kilometer. Fall from a height like that and it wouldn't matter if you were a tank — you'd shatter like porcelain. No, fuck! That's our tank!

Kieeeeek!

The Siren let out a grotesque cheer, as if it were having the time of its life, and dropped him. Yohan became a living demonstration of free fall, plummeting toward the earth at a terminal velocity of fifty-three meters per second. His body, thrashing in midair, looked for all the world like a marathon runner in a desperate sprint.

"Oh my god…!"

Falling at that speed, his body reached the ground in an instant.

THUD.

What arrived on the ground was, of course, an empty shell with no soul left in it. And even that empty shell had been shattered to pieces as if a grenade had gone off inside it. Slick blood and pulverized bone sprayed in every direction. The sight was so unreal it barely seemed to belong to this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world.