Sera - A Dungeon Revival LitRPG

Shrike laughed as he watched the beastkin writhing in the dirt. The poor thing clutched desperately at its leg where the muscle had been torn open. Dark blood soaked the earth, matting the thick fur and painting the ground in viscous streaks.

His men were just as amused, if not more so. They might have hesitated if they had encountered a beastkin woman instead, but a regular beastkin man didn’t exactly have much value. Slave market is too flooded these days.

But suddenly, Wesley looked around nervously, searching the shadows for something. "Boss, I don't see the beastkin shifter anywhere."

Shrike patted Wesley on the back. "Don't worry. The beastkin shifters that are placed in dungeons are usually already transformed: dumb, large, and loud. We should find it eventually."

"But what if the beastkin we just shot was a shifter?" Wesley asked.

Shrike couldn't help but let out a smug chuckle. "Don't be ridiculous. Not every beastkin you see is a shifter. You'd drive yourself mad thinking that way."

His laughter filled the clearing, echoed by the chuckles of his other men. But soon, Shrike's laughter strangled suddenly in his throat as an overwhelming wave of energy surged from behind. The force rippled through his body, causing his knees to buckle as tremors resonated deep within his bones.

He could feel the ground beneath him shudder as his men were caught in the blast, their bodies flung to the ground like ragdolls. An intense, searing heat enveloped them, scorching their skin and stealing the breath from their lungs.

Shrike's vision blurred momentarily, but he managed to force his gaze toward the source of the explosion. His heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat in his chest. The beastkin from earlier had somehow regenerated its leg and was now glowing with fiery energy. His body swelled, muscles expanding and skin stretching taut as he grew larger and larger. Shit.

The ground around the beastkin cracked and splintered under the pressure of his transformation, jagged fissures spreading outward like a web. The air vibrated with raw power, the intensity of it making Shrike's teeth chatter.

Before Shrike's eyes, the beastkin turned into a colossal beast. It first began with the skeleton, each bone snapping and clicking into place. Then, muscle and sinew grew around the skeletal structure, strands of flesh weaving together with disturbing speed, each layer forming with a wet, sinewy sound.

Gradually, the creature's face took shape as one half of its visage was complete, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth set in a feral snarl. Each newly formed muscle twitched as the beast’s emerging eye glinted with a predatory gleam.

Shrike desperately forced himself upright, shaking off the shock that gripped his limbs. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and barked a command to his men, who were scrambling to their feet. "Shoot the damn thing!"

As the beast's form continued to swell, Shrike and his men braced themselves for the imminent fight. Each one tightened their grip on their spear, tips crackling with arcs of blue-white lightning that surged along the shafts.

In a split second, the shock spears unleashed their lethal payloads, arcing through the air toward the beast's massive head. The lightning bolts struck with devastating force, tearing through flesh and bone in explosive bursts. The beast's thick hide sizzled and smoked, chunks of muscle and shards of bone flying in all directions.

Despite the relentless assault, the core structure of the beast's head remained disturbingly intact. Its grotesque visage now sported a gaping, raw wound, the torn flesh and exposed sinew framing a pulsating brain.

Shrike's eyes widened as he took in the sight. The beast's resilience was beyond anything he had anticipated. Blood and viscera dripped from the horrific wound, steaming as it hit the ground. How… is that thing not dead?

"We need to hit it again," Shrike barked. "Aim for the brain!"

The men readied themselves once more, the blue-white lightning dancing along their spears intensifying. Each warrior took aim, focusing on the pulsating brain exposed in the beast's head.

With a collective shout, they unleashed the energy from the tips of their spears. The air sizzled with energy as bolts of lightning arced toward the target, tearing through the beast’s flesh with explosive force.

Chunks of brain matter, muscle, and bone were ripped away. Each strike appeared to weaken it momentarily, but it only took seconds for the flesh to knit itself back together and quickly regenerate.

"Keep firing!" Shrike commanded, his own spear crackling with a ferocious charge. He hurled it with all his might, the lightning-infused weapon striking the beast's exposed brain with a brilliant flash. The creature howled in pain, but refused to fall.

Even as its body was torn apart by the onslaught, the beast continued to regenerate. The ground shook as the beast roared and turned abruptly, going deeper into the forest and crashing through the underbrush, setting it aflame.

Amidst the blaze, Shrike carefully kept track of the beast's movements. He aimed his spear at the monster in spite of the flames, the heat searing his skin and the smoke stinging his eyes. “Keep shooting!”

Galvanized by Shrike’s command, his men activated their spears again. Each lightning strike hit with a resounding crack against the beast, tearing through its flesh in explosive bursts.

Chunks of smoldering meat were ripped from its frame, but the beast’s momentum remained relentless. Its movements didn't slow one bit, almost as if it was fuelled by sheer fury.

With a roar that shook the nearby trees to their roots, the beast charged again. In a heartbeat, Shrike dove to the side, narrowly escaping the beast’s lethal charge. The sheer force of its passage whipped the air around him, and he felt the intense heat scorch his skin.

Several of his men also threw themselves into the relative safety of the trees. The foliage provided scant cover, but it was enough to avoid the beast's immediate wrath.

A few brave souls stood their ground and pulled out their red firestorm runes, the etched symbols glowing ominously in their hands. In a synchronized effort, they hurled the runes at the advancing beast.

The runes detonated mid-air, a series of fiery bursts that lit up the entire area with a searing brilliance. The explosions were deafening, sending shockwaves through the forest.

For a moment, it looked as though the power of the runes might have done the trick. But when the smoke cleared, it was clear that the beast did not fall. Instead, it shook its massive head, dislodging the flames and smoke clinging to its fur. The firestorm runes had left scorch marks and smoldering patches on its hide, but the beast’s eyes burned with a renewed anger.

The beast pawed at the ground, kicking up dust and debris as it prepared for another lethal charge. Its muscles tensed, rippling under its thick fur.

In a desperate attempt to stop the beast, Shrike activated his shock spear and aimed it directly at its head. Come on, come on.

But unfortunately, he missed and accidentally struck one of the beast's hind legs instead. And immediately after, the beast lunged and snapped its jaws around two of Shrike’s men, crushing them with a wet crunch.

Afterwards, the beast turned and went deeper into the forest. The remaining men fired their lightning blasts at its retreating form, each strike lighting up trees and bushes but failing to bring the beast down.

By this point, Smoke erupted from the tips of some of the men's spears. Wesley cast a worried glance at Shrike "Boss, we're already down a few spears."

Shrike grunted in frustration and shoved Wesley aside. "Calm down! That thing has to be close to dying."

Yet, Shrike turned his head as he heard the pained screams of his men. He spun around just in time to see a torrent of searing flames erupting from the underbrush, engulfing two of his men in flames, their bodies writhing as the fire consumed flesh and bone alike.

Shrike had no time to worry about his men. He locked his eyes onto the beast as it was charging toward another group of his men, each stride igniting the ground beneath it.

He gripped his spear tightly, feeling the weapon's residual power thrumming through his hands. Despite the spear’s evident strain, he raised it high and unleashed a flurry of lightning blasts at the rampaging creature.

One bolt struck the beast’s head with a crackling burst of energy, while the other two slammed into its massive body. The headshot was particularly effective, causing the beast to stagger and its furious roar to morph into a pained howl. Yes!

This brief reprieve was enough to force the beast to reconsider its assault. Soon, it turned and fled into the burning forest again.

Shrike's natural reaction was to ready his shock spear and fire again. However, he soon noticed a thin pillar of smoke erupted from the tip of his weapon. Fuck me, looks like I'll only have a couple of shots left.

Shrike’s remaining men regrouped and formed a loose defensive circle around him. Their eyes fixed on the burning beast that loomed ominously. They fired occasional bursts of lightning at the creature, their attacks now measured and cautious, conserving their weapons’ dwindling power for a decisive strike.

But as Shrike prepared to take aim, a sharp pain pierced his neck. He winced, instinctively reaching up to find a thorny, vine-like creature latched onto his skin. The sensation was swiftly followed by the pull of similar creatures anchoring themselves to his legs, their tiny, spiky bodies digging into his flesh. Panic flared in his eyes as he shouted, “Somebody! Get this little shit off me!”

Wesley drove his spear into one of the vine creatures. The creature disintegrated into a wisp of mana, leaving behind a small green sphere. Then, Wesley turned his attention to Shrike, deftly removing the remaining creatures to free his boss from their painful grip.

As this happened, the beast roared and opened its mouth wide to unleash a torrent of searing fire towards Shrike’s remaining men. Most of the men darted out of the path of the inferno. However, one soldier was caught squarely in the full blast, his agonized screech piercing the air as his metal armor burned up rapidly, the searing heat effectively cooking him alive from the inside out.

Shrike’s focus snapped back to the immediate threat. He aimed his spear at the beast again, but just as he steadied his grip and prepared to fire, another thorny creature latched onto his arm.

The unexpected tug wrenched his arm slightly off course, causing his shot to miss wildly. The lightning bolt streaked past the beast and struck a tree, splintering its trunk with a sharp crack.

Shrike snarled and swung his arm, slamming the offending creature against a nearby tree with brute force. The impact was so fierce that it dented the tree trunk, the creature’s body crumpling upon impact. It slumped to the ground, quickly dissolving into wisps of mana.

He shot a quick glance at his remaining men, numbering just five now, including himself. Two of them had smoke coming out of their spears, but the others looked like their shock spears were still capable of firing at least a few more shots.

Shrike slammed the butt of his spear against the ground and pointed at the beast, which was preparing to charge at them, its massive foot kicking up dust. "When that thing comes close, throw everything we have at it!"

His men nodded and readied their rune pouches. And as the beast charged toward them, Shrike and his remaining men drew their firestorm runes and hurled them at the approaching monster.

The runes detonated mid-air in a series of brilliant explosions. Through the chaos, Shrike narrowed his eyes as he spotted the glowing embers flickering off the beast’s fur. “Finish it!"

Shrike and his men unleashed their remaining bolts of lightning into the thick cloud of dust. The air was soon filled with the sound of pained growls as the bolts found their mark.

For a brief, hopeful moment, everything fell quiet. Shrike allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the beast was finally dead.

However, that fragile hope was shattered by the sounds of more screams. The beast had somehow survived, now grotesquely disfigured with half its body burnt away, exposing charred, skeletal limbs.

Despite this, it still tore through Shrike’s remaining men easily. Wesley in particular tried to run away, but he stumbled. The beast's clawed limbs lashed out, seizing him by the feet before its jaws clamped down and crunched his legs.

Realizing the hopelessness of their situation, Shrike turned and ran. The continued screams of his men and the horrific sounds of carnage haunted his ears as they were torn apart and devoured by the monstrous creature they had once hoped to defeat.

Breathing heavily, Shrike paused and braced himself against a tree, trembling as he pressed a hand into the rough bark. Gathering the courage to glance back, he saw the last of his men being brutally ended by the beast. There's… just no way.

Shrike glared at the beast as it turned its blazing gaze toward him. He could only watch as the beast's flesh regenerated with horrifying speed. Muscle and sinew wove together seamlessly, gray skin then stretched over the newly formed muscles, and fiery fur sprouted, enveloping its monstrous form in a mantle of blazing menace.

It was do or die now. Shrike’s grip tightened around his spear and ran towards the beast as it too, charged towards him. Just as the beast’s massive jaws were ready to clamp down on him, Shrike slid down and drove his spear upward with an upward thrust, piercing the beast’s underbelly. The spearhead sank deep into the monster's flesh, tearing through sinew and muscle.

The beast bellowed in agony and thrashed violently, dragging Shrike through the tangled underbrush and dirt as it attempted to dislodge the spear. Shrike clung to the spear shaft with all his strength, knuckles straining as he held on with everything he had left.

But the beast’s frenzied thrashing proved overwhelming. The spear snapped under the immense pressure. With a powerful kick from its hind legs, the beast hurled Shrike aside.

His vision blurred as the beast’s kick sent him crashing through a tree, the wood splintering around him before he slid face-first into the dirt. Shrike's limbs trembled with the effort. But even with his vision still blurry, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the beast roaring triumphantly.

With that, Shrike resigned himself to his fate. He lifted his head just enough to watch the beast charge at him for what he believed was going to be the last time.

Suddenly, just as the beast was charging at him, a large swarm of flies suddenly manifested from thin air, and completely covered the beast's head. The cloud of insects buzzed and darted, disorienting the creature. The beast roared in frustration, pausing to swat at the flies that tormented it.

Shrike saw his chance and tried to push himself up and run away. However, as he attempted to move, he realized with a sinking feeling that he was unable to budge. His limbs were bound tightly by string, the thin cords digging painfully into his skin. He struggled against the restraints, but the strings held far too firmly, cutting into his flesh with each movement.

His heart pounded as he watched the beast moving away, distracted by the persistent cloud of flies. It roared and snapped at the air, the swarm leading it further and further from Shrike's position.

Relief washed over him momentarily, only to be replaced by a sharp sense of dread as he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Before he could react, a sharp pain exploded in his head as a foot came down hard and pressed his face into the dirt.

"Not too shabby, shame that this is where it ends."