Parahum, the Prophet

[GRRRRRRR---!!]

The Undead Drake let out a roar and charged toward us.

"Rerto, excluding the aura, this guy's attack patterns are pretty straightforward. How many survival skills do you have?"

"Considering cooldowns, I can use Glory's Protection and Struggle. If I alternate between those two..."

I nodded at his words.

Glory's Protection was the knight-exclusive physical defense skill he'd shown in the lower level just moments ago. And Struggle was a common defense skill available to warrior-class jobs.

'He must've first-jobbed as a swordsman, then joined the Kartinin family and got selected as one of the 17 vassals, advancing to Divine Knight. That way, he picked up both swordsman skills and knight skills.'

Normally, you'd pick warrior as your first class and knight at second job change. But hidden classes sometimes let you access base job skills right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at advancement, independent of tiers.

'In the level 40s, you get a total of four skill slots. Glory's Protection, Struggle, Battlefield Provocation, and Silver Sword 1st Form. Just like a true guide writer, it's a textbook build.'

I'd asked casually, but that short exchange let me map out Rerto Karen's skill build.

'His deputy Phmel probably went attack-heavy, while the tank here is defense-focused.'

That meant he had only one real attack skill.

'But I can't assume. His Divine Knight might boost skill slots like my Chilya Sword Master's sword pilgrimage.'

I eyed Rerto. Then recalled his words from moments ago.

Mentioning he could chain those two defense skills on cooldown implied another one separate from them.

'Including possibilities, five slots total.'

Knowing an opponent's skills was knowing your enemy.

Builds could shift, but it gave clues to their priorities in playstyle.

"As I recall, Struggle boosts max HP by 15% and recovers 10%, right? So cycle survivals like this: Struggle on tail smash, Glory's Protection when the Drake spews Plague Aura. No need to explain why."

"Tail smash hits hard but single-target, while Plague Aura is poison AoE around the Undead Drake."

Rerto answered.

"Right."

"When the aura drops, group up on me. Protection radius isn't huge—move the second the warning pops."

Red Sickle and Phlia nodded at his words.

"Rerto Karen, if shit hits the fan, use any hidden skills too. Better than dying to hold out."

I probed him lightly.

Dreams or fragment memories aside, the second we cleared this dungeon, swords would be out. We were busy masking smiles, predicting moves, hiding ours—friendship be damned.

"Enough chit-chat."

Rerto clicked his tongue, masking his expression.

"Kim Do-hyun, I've killed way more undead than you. I'll hold it— you finish clean."

"No doubt."

Clang— Rerto gripped his sword tighter at the gaping-mawed Undead Drake charging in.

Instantly, silver aura wrapped the blade. Then, like rocket exhaust igniting, a brilliant flash erupted from the raised hilt's end.

BOOOOM---!!

His sword-hand rocketed forward on the thrust.

"Hup!"

Rerto's silver blade slammed the Undead Drake's leg. Thick leg bone shattered outright, staggering the monster.

"Nice."

The Drake roared at the hit, whipping its head with maw agape.

"Now...!"

Rerto bolted full-tilt into the hall's depths. Its shattered leg bone knit in seconds as it pursued.

Shrrrrk...!!

Daggers scattered over the Drake's head.

Phlia's silhouette dashed aerial stepping-stones of daggers, reaching the Drake's head in a blink.

Slash...!

Red Sickle, timing perfect, stacked his two chakrams and hurled them skyward.

Shrieeek...!!

The paired edges spun saw-like, cross-slashing into the thrashing Drake's tail from both sides.

Splat! KRRRRACK--!

Red Sickle slashed the air toward the embedded chakrams.

Fierce lightning burst from the chakrams, gnawing the tail.

[KAAAAK!!]

The Drake screamed in agony, swinging its chakram-pierced tail. But just before tail smash, the lightning crack!-ed its thick bone like shattering pottery.

The attack fizzled, but the prior hit seemed to enrage it instead.

[KAK! KAAAAK!!]

As it reared its head roaring, the Command Stone embedded in its forehead glowed.

"It's casting aura!! Group up!!"

Rerto spotted the green-glowing magic circle in the Drake's open maw and yelled.

He slammed his silver blade into the floor with all his might.

A hemispherical barrier formed around him. Red Sickle recalled his chakrams and dashed inside.

"Phlia!!"

My shout echoed the hall.

"Haaa!!"

Atop the Drake via Dark Step, she seized the gap amid surging poison fog.

Shrrrrk...!!

She yanked the strap around her waist, unleashing dozens of daggers in a razor swarm.

Daggers surged like wings beating midair, slamming the Drake's neck and face.

Thud! Thud! Splat!! CRACKCRACK...!

Crack--!

Each dagger thudding into its skull cracked bone like splitting stone.

"I'll finish it!"

Zeroed on the hunt, she didn't glance around, just replied to my call.

Fwosh--!!

"...Get out!!!"

Then— as she drew her belt's last three daggers for the forehead killshot, crunch...!!

I springboarded off Red Sickle's shoulder, wrapped her waist, and yanked.

"...?!!!"

Her airborne daggers spun ownerless to the floor.

"Wh-what...?"

Pulled mid-finisher, she turned in bewilderment.

But I tightened my grip on her waist.

"Ugh?!"

"Hold your breath."

She groaned faintly at the squeeze, and amid floor-flooding poison mist, I urgently deployed Nute.

BOOOOM---!

A deafening blast erupted. No time to check—layered ice walls enveloped me as I plunged through the mist.

Sizzle...!!

With a burning hiss, I slipped barely inside Rerto's barrier and set Phlia down.

"...What the hell was that?"

Phlia, who'd glared resentfully moments ago, spoke in a trembling voice.

Thud!!

Incredibly, the raging Drake's body crumpled like a marionette with cut strings.

[Grk... Grrrk...]

Its shattered-necked head rasped painfully on the floor.

Thump— A massive foot crushed down on its skull.

[Insolent ones.]

A rough, scraping voice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like nails on steel tore at our ears—the first human tongue here besides ours.

"No way..."

Mist clearing revealed pitch-black eyes glaring down.

Crunch--!!

The mummy extended a hand slow; the remaining Drake skull powdered instantly, leaving only the Command Stone in his palm.

[Hmm.]

He gazed vacantly at the ashen remains.

"That... can't be, right?"

Phlia stared at me, voice quaking.

Fluttering robes and ornate shoulder jewels screamed royalty. But body-wrapping bandages, peeking rotten flesh, and exposed bones screamed not human.

"The Undying King... Parahum."

Rerto murmured low at the looming monstrosity.

"Third trial unfinished, and Parahum shows personally? What the hell?"

"Parahum leaving the tomb to hunt us...? Possible?"

Even NPC Phlia and Red Sickle gaped at the colossal mummy in disbelief.

"Weird. Why rush like this? Some urgent reason?"

Rerto spoke, instantly battle-ready up front.

"Boss we gotta kill anyway. Dungeons glitch with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠random boss spawns sometimes. Kim Do-hyun, not forgetting our deal?"

His eyes locked on the golden scepter in Parahum's hand.

'Why.'

But before loot, doubt gripped me. Five dream runs through Parahum's Tomb—never this.

"...A reason to hurry."

Parahum's shift meant some new variable absent in those five clears.

Thump- Thump- Thump-

I stared up at him slowly surveying us.

"No way..."

One thought flashed.

His gaze swept us fast, searching.

"Prophet (Yeonja) Parahum."

His eyes halted on me—I recalled his other moniker.

Chill— his gaze pierced me.

I knew: he rushed to kill me.

Grip— My sword-hand clenched unwittingly.

Confirmed. He'd... stolen a glimpse of the future vision I'd just seen.