Albert pced his hands on the massive door and pushed. It creaked open, revealing a chamber beyond. Seated at a desk, a man looked up, his eyes meeting theirs.

  “Ohoho,” a voice chuckled. “Unexpected visitors. How can I be of assistance?” Tharwat leaned back in his chair, a smirk pying on his lips. He was a powerfully built man, with a thick, braided beard and eyes that glittered with amusement. He wore a dark, leather jerkin over a chainmail shirt.

  “Die for us,” Penelope stated ftly.

  Tharwat threw back his head and ughed. “I’m afraid I can’t oblige. How about this: you die for me, and I’ll consider sparing your comrades.”

  “Enough talk!” Albert said sharply, his voice cutting through the air. He quickly unrolled two scrolls.

  The first, the Scroll of Noise Cancelling, silenced the chamber, creating a bubble of absolute quiet. The second, the Scroll of Multiyer Barrier, shimmered into existence, erecting a series of interlocking, translucent shields that sealed off the room. The effects of each scroll would st for sixty seconds, but Albert had more ready if needed. These precautions had cost them a hefty sum – two gold bars for the Noise Cancelling Scroll, and a substantial ten gold bars for the Multiyer Barrier – but Albert knew they were essential.

  “Escape is impossible, Shellshock,” Albert stated.

  Tharwat chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “I’m impressed. That scroll must have cost a fortune. But you’ve simply sealed your own fate.”

  “Team, formation!” Albert barked.

  “Holy Sanctum!” Monica cried, holding up her staff of The Life Herald, her voice infused with power. A wave of divine energy washed over the group, bolstering their speed, strength, and dexterity.

  Zivgor, now wreathed in shimmering energy from his Ultimate Technique: Ultimate Defense, braced himself, his defenses tripled for the next fifteen seconds. He roared a challenge, attempting to goad Tharwat into an attack. But the taunt fell ft. Tharwat merely grinned, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

  Zivgor then unleashed his Ultimate Technique: Bull Rush. A blur of motion, he charged forward with terrifying speed and force, an attack designed to shatter formations and bowl over opponents.

  Tharwat, despite his experience, was caught off guard by the suddenness of the attack. He was forced to sidestep to avoid the brunt of the charge, narrowly escaping a devastating blow. But Penelope was already moving. A volley of cursed daggers, imbued with dark magic, streaked towards Tharwat, forcing him to react. He summoned two axes from seemingly nowhere – a personal void or space-pocket – and hurled them at Monica with deadly accuracy.

  Tiffany, seeing the danger, reacted instantly. A wall of roaring fmes erupted before the two of them, her Ultimate Technique, Fire Wall, completely deflecting the incoming axes. Before Tharwat could capitalize on the opening, Tiffany unched her follow-up: Ice Bdes. Razor-sharp shards of ice shot towards Tharwat, but the veteran warrior, anticipating the attack, dodged with practiced ease.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Albert snarled, his Malevolent Bde a blur of motion. He lunged, the bde whistling through the air, ready to cut through anything in its path.

  Sensing the attack, Tharwat’s eyes fshed. He activated his inherent skill: Berserker’s Will. His muscles bulged, and a savage grin spread across his face before countering the attack. “Pytime is over,” he growled.

  Albert’s team regrouped, returning to their original formation.

  “He’s flushed,” Tiffany observed.

  “His eyes are glowing too,” Penelope added.

  “His mana signature is off the charts,” Albert warned, his voice grim. He quickly unrolled two more scrolls, renewing the silence and the shimmering barrier that enclosed them.

  Monica, her face pale but determined, cast Holy Regeneration. The team felt a surge of renewed strength as their injuries began to mend, and the cooldowns on most of her spells reset except the Holy Regeneration itself which has 24 hours cooldown. She immediately followed it with Holy Sanctum, bathing her allies in a golden light. Their strength, dexterity, and speed surged, while a palpable wave of divine energy radiated outwards, a debuff designed to weaken those who drew power from demonic sources. Fortunately for Shellshock, his Berserker’s Will was an inherent skill, not fueled by demonic energy, so he remained unaffected.

  “Colossal Defense!” Zivgor roared, charging forward like a battering ram. His momentum was terrifying, an unstoppable force aimed at crushing Shellshock. A direct hit would be devastating, potentially killing outright or inflicting grievous wounds.

  Shellshock, however, simply grinned. “That move is predictable,” he sneered. “Did you think I wouldn’t see it coming?”

  Just as Zivgor was about to connect, Monica swiftly cast Holy Chains. Golden chains materialized, snaking through the air to bind Shellshock.

  “Berserker’s Wrath!” Shellshock roared, countering the spell with his own raw power. His technique, Berserker’s Wrath, amplified his strength exponentially, making him an overwhelming force against any attempt to restrain him. The Holy Chains snapped like threads.

  Tharwat countered with a roar. “Berserker’s Rage!” he bellowed, unleashing his ultimate technique. He seemed to vanish for a split second, then reappeared behind the healer, his axe raised to strike.

  “Not so fast!” Tiffany shouted, reacting instantly. “Wrathful Fire!” A bzing shield erupted around the two of them, her own ultimate technique, capable of nullifying both magical and physical attacks. (100% deflect)

  Tharwat’s attack smmed against the fiery barrier and bounced harmlessly off.

  “What…?” Tharwat muttered, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He sensed something was wrong. A prickling sensation on the back of his neck warned him of imminent danger. He instinctively summoned for a scroll into his space-pocket.

  The scroll fred to life – the Scroll of Combination. The scroll’s magic surged through him, fusing two techniques into one.

  Berserker’ rage + Rampage = Berserker’s Storm.

  The Scroll of Combination costs I0 gold bar.

  “Berserker’s Storm!” Tharwat roared, combining his Berserker’s Rage with the raw power of Rampage. The effect was devastating. A swirling vortex of energy erupted around him, nullifying the lingering smoke from Tiffany’s attack and forcefully throwing back anyone within its radius. Tharwat felt a surge of power coursing through him, granting him a thirty percent boost to his speed and strength for the next minute.

  Penelope, thrown back by the bst, staggered to her feet. “That was brutal!” she gasped, clutching her side. “One more of those, and I’m done for.”

  “Everyone alright?” Albert called out, his eyes scanning his teammates.

  “We’re fine,” Penelope replied, though her voice was strained.

  Albert assessed the damage. Zivgor, thanks to his earlier defenses, seemed retively unscathed. Tiffany and Monica, protected by the timely shield, were also unharmed. Only Albert and Penelope had taken the brunt of the attack.

  “Holy Healing!” Monica chanted, her voice resonating with divine power.

  “Cloak of Fire!” Tiffany responded, casting a protective spell that enveloped her allies, reducing incoming damage by ten percent overall and fifty percent from fire-based attacks.

  “Not so fast!” Shellshock roared, lunging towards Monica, his axe raised to strike.

  “Wrathful Fire!” Tiffany cried, reacting instantly. A wall of fmes erupted between Shellshock and Monica and herself, her defensive spell halting his advance.

  From above, Albert descended like a lightning bolt. “Ultimate Move. Mana Form: Bde of Destruction!” he shouted, channeling his mana into a precise and devastating strike. The bde crackled with energy, a focused beam of power aimed at Shellshock.

  Shellshock, however, was ready. He met Albert’s attack with his own devastating technique. “Ultimate move. Berserker’s Will: Annihition!” he bellowed, unleashing a surge of raw power.

  The csh of the two ultimate techniques was cataclysmic. Energy exploded outwards in a shockwave, throwing Albert’s team off bance.

  “Fog of Concealment!” Penelope cried. The chamber fell into an eerie silence, the air thick with anticipation. Suddenly, a volley of explosive daggers hurtled towards Shellshock. He dodged and weaved, narrowly avoiding each bst. Four daggers smmed into the ground in front of him, the force of the explosions rocking the chamber.

  As Shellshock braced himself for the next attack, Albert’s bde fshed from behind, aimed at his neck. He couldn’t dodge to the side; from above, a cascade of fiery ice bdes, conjured by Tiffany, threatened to slice him to ribbons. He was trapped.

  Then, Zivgor moved. “Ultimate Move. Colossal Defense: Gigantic!” he roared, his voice booming through the silent chamber. He surged forward, an unstoppable force of raw power.

  “Fog of Concealment” granted Penelope enhanced reflexes, boosting her movement speed by eighty percent and her dexterity by ten percent, allowing her to coordinate these rapid attacks.

  “Colossal Defense: Gigantic” was a temporary surge of attack power and defense, an enhanced version of his previous technique, granting Zivgor an additional ten percent lethality for the next ten seconds.

  Tharwat roared, “Scroll of Frenzy!” A surge of power visibly coursed through him as the scroll’s magic took effect.

  “Ultimate Move. Berserker’s Will: Saturnus!” he bellowed, unleashing his ultimate technique.

  The Scroll of Frenzy supercharged Tharwat, boosting his strength, defense, dexterity, and speed by a staggering fifty to eighty percent for the next minute. But the buff came at a cost: he had to maintain a constant barrage of attacks to keep the power flowing.

  The Scroll of Frenzy costs twenty-five gold bars.

  Berserker’s Will: Saturnus was a whirlwind of defensive power. Tharwat spun, his axe a blur, deflecting the combined assault of Albert, Tiffany, and Zivgor with seemingly effortless precision. The attack was designed to counter multiple opponents attacking from all angles, and it did its job perfectly, also granting Tharwat a fifty percent increase to his strength and dexterity for the next thirty seconds.

  “I can’t believe it,” Penelope gasped, watching in disbelief. “He deflected everything!”

  “He’s coming!” Albert yelled, his voice ced with urgency.

  “Shadow Leap!” Penelope whispered, vanishing into the swirling mists of her concealment spell. She moved with blinding speed, a fleeting shadow darting through the chaos, impossible to target. The “Shadow Leap” allowed her incredible evasive maneuvers while concealed, but she was unable to attack during its use. The spell would hold until she chose to strike or was forced out of hiding.

  “Ultimate Move. Mana Form: Spartan’s Phanx!” Albert roared, channeling his mana. A shimmering, invisible wall of pure energy materialized around him, forming a protective phanx. The energy shield was designed to deflect projectiles and absorb incoming attacks, offering near-perfect protection—a full one hundred percent damage reduction—for the next ten seconds. The technique, however, was costly, consuming a significant portion—fully fifty percent—of Albert’s mana reserves.

  “Scroll of Defense!” Zivgor shouted, unrolling a novice scroll. But this was no ordinary simple scroll. Zivgor had mastered the art of defense, unlocking the scroll’s true potential. As the magic took effect, his defenses skyrocketed, granting him a staggering one hundred percent increase in protection for twenty seconds. He became an immovable object, impervious to any form of attack.

  Scroll of Defense costs one gold bar.

  Tharwat gritted his teeth. “I can’t keep this up,” he muttered to himself. “I need to finish this with one blow. But their teamwork is…maddening. And that healer seems to have an endless supply of mana potions. If only I’d known it would come to this…” No time for regrets. I need to think…or I’m dead.

  “Ultimate Move. Berserker’s Will: Berserker’s Grudge!” Tharwat roared, unleashing his ultimate technique. The attack was infused with a vicious, continuous bleeding effect, draining his opponents’ health by ten percent every five seconds. It also targeted their speed and defense, weakening them further with a twenty percent reduction to both.

  “Holy Sanctum!” Monica cried, her voice strained.

  “Wrathful Fire!” Tiffany shouted, raising her fiery shield in anticipation of Tharwat’s attack. But Tharwat had seen the strain on Albert’s face, knew his mana reserves were depleted. He seized the opportunity, a predatory glint in his eyes. A wave of panic rippled through Albert’s team.

  Zivgor, seeing the threat to his comrades, threw himself in front of them, intercepting Tharwat’s charge. “Ultimate Move. Colossal Defense: Parry!” he bellowed, activating his own ultimate defense.

  “Colossal Defense: Parry” was a powerful defensive stance, capable of deflecting attacks based on the user’s vigor. With his health constantly being replenished by Monica, Zivgor was a bulwark against Tharwat’s onsught. He met the attack head-on, deflecting the blow with incredible force. The deflected energy shed back at Tharwat, inflicting a significant amount of damage. The parry was designed to not only deflect but also reflect damage, especially against weaker opponents (100%). Tharwat, however, was far from weak.

  Are you alright, Albert?" Penelope rushed to his side.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” he replied, accepting the mana potion she offered. “Thank you.”

  After regaining his mana, they returned to their battle formation. Penelope unfurled the Scroll of Revenge. The spell momentarily staggered Shellshock, buying them a precious second.

  Scroll of Revenge: Stuns target for 1 second. Cost: 10 gold bars.

  Simultaneously, Albert unleashed his attack.

  “Ultimate Move. Mana Form: Dimensional Surge Ssh!” he roared. A wave of raw mana, a shimmering ssh of pure energy, tore through reality itself. Even the mountain behind them shuddered under its impact while simultaneously revealing their location.

  “Damn! Is that the Lord’s Scroll he used?” Tiffany excimed, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I never thought he’d be desperate enough to use it,” Albert replied, his voice grim.

  “Oh, fuck!” Zivgor echoed, his hand instinctively moving towards his weapon.

  “It’s coming! Everyone, brace yourselves!” Albert yelled, his voice filled with urgency.

  The Lord’s Scroll. A forbidden artifact. It granted the user a second chance at life, but at a terrible cost. In exchange for this resurrection, the user sacrificed their inherent skills, their physical prowess—strength, speed, dexterity—and, most disturbingly, their sanity. The scroll’s magic would sustain them for sixty seconds.

  The Lord’s Scroll costs one hundred gold bars.

  “Oh, lord of Berserkers, grant thy st wish!” Tharwat uttered, his voice low yet sharp. “Ultimate Move. Berserker’s Will: Zombification!” he roared.

  The transformation was horrific. His eyes gzed over, and a feral snarl twisted his features. His appearance turned dark. Zombification amplified his already formidable power, granting him an eighty percent boost to his speed, dexterity, strength, defense, and even his mana reserves. It also rendered him immune to debuffs. But the surge of power came at a terrible price. Rational thought vanished, repced by a mindless rage. Tharwat was no longer a cunning warrior; he was a berserk monster, driven by pure instinct, a danger to friend and foe alike.

  “Holy Sanctum!” Monica cried, her voice strained.

  “Holy Light!” she gasped, channeling another spell.

  “Ultimate Move. Holy Spirits: Elysium!” she finished, her voice weak. The strain of the magic was evident; her face was pale, and she swayed on her feet. The effort of these rapid-fire techniques had taken its toll. Her mana reserves were completely drained. She colpsed to her hands and knees, exhausted.

  “Here, take these mana potions, quick!” Tiffany urged, thrusting several vials towards Monica.

  “Holy Spirits: Elysium” summoned ethereal fairies that swirled around Monica’s teammates, bolstering their mental focus and banishing battle fatigue. The fairies’ magic sharpened their awareness, granting them almost superhuman reaction speeds for the next minute.

  “Fuck! He’s too strong!” Zivgor excimed, staggering back from a furious barrage of attacks from the berserk Shellshock.

  “Everyone!” Albert shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle. “Hit-and-run tactics! We don’t have to defeat him; his time is limited!” He gnced at Zivgor. “Zivgor, fall back for now! Protect Tiffany and Monica at all costs!”

  “Understood!” Zivgor replied, moving to shield the healer and the mage.

  A silent gnce from Albert was all Penelope needed. She whispered, “Fog of Concealment!” and the battlefield was once again shrouded in mist. Tharwat, his mind consumed by the Berserker’s rage, shed out wildly, his attacks powerful but uncoordinated. He was a whirlwind of raw power, his speed and dexterity unmatched, yet his ck of focus made him predictable. Penelope and Albert danced around his attacks, their own blows either deflected or evaded. The buffs from Monica proved invaluable, allowing them to anticipate and dodge even the most ferocious strikes. Victory seemed within reach; the effects of the Lord’s Scroll were almost spent.

  The gruesome battle raged on. Each blow from the berserker shook the chamber, cracks appearing in the walls and the very ground beneath their feet. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring the already limited visibility. The 60-second duration of the scroll ticked down, and with it, the magical enhancements that had bolstered both Tharwat and the team.

  The berserker’s movements began to slow, his roars weakening. Finally, he stumbled, his axe falling from his grasp. He crashed to the ground, his body still for a moment, then began to smoke and smolder.

  Penelope, breathing heavily, approached cautiously. “Is he…dead?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the smoking corpse.

  Albert, equally exhausted, nodded. “I think so,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “The effects of the scroll and the Zombification…they’re gone.”

  The rest of the team, exhausted and battered, rushed towards Albert and Penelope. As Albert turned, a blur of motion caught his eye. A flying axe, hurled with surprising force, was hurtling towards him. Weakened and without the magical enhancements that had aided him earlier, he knew he couldn’t dodge in time.

  Suddenly, a figure lunged forward, pushing him aside. It was Tiffany.

  Albert stumbled, his heart leaping into his throat. “Tiffany! No!” he cried, turning to see her. His blood ran cold. The axe had struck her, the blow devastating. She was barely conscious, her eyes gzed over with pain.

  “Tiffany! Love! Speak to me!” he pleaded, his voice thick with panic. “Why…?”

  Monica gasped, her eyes widening in horror. She rushed to Tiffany’s side, tears streaming down her face. Tiffany’s lips moved, a faint whisper escaping them. She tried to speak, to say something, anything…but her words were cut short. The light faded from her eyes, and her body went limp. The axe had taken its toll; only the upper half of her body remained. She was gone.

  A cruel smirk twisted Tharwat’s face as he finally succumbed to his injuries and the aftereffects of the Zombification, losing consciousness. Even in defeat, he had cimed a victory of his own.

  The Elites arrived on the scene of the battle.