A quiet slowly crept in, broken only by ragged exhales and the occasional mucus-filled cough. It settled as we all realized it was truly over. The pressure weighing down on us lifted—slowly enough that my ears rang as they adjusted. Wind pushed through the ruined field, carrying the stink of acid, smoke, and something far worse: half-digested demon flesh breaking down into sludge.

  The boss was melting.

  Its massive frame sagged inward as its internal systems failed completely, acidic fluids eating through its own body now that nothing regulated the reaction. Plates of armor sloughed off and dissolved where they landed, hissing violently before sinking into the blackened ground.

  The torso-maw twitched once, grinding teeth scraping weakly against each other, then seized. Whatever passed for a heartbeat stuttered—and stopped. The corpse continued dissolving, collapsing in on itself.

  “Well,” Richard said hoarsely, finally lowering his shield. “That’s one way to make sure it doesn’t get back up.”

  Maria leaned against the wall nearby, bow resting over her shoulder, her face smeared with soot and blood that definitely wasn’t hers. “I was kind of hoping for something more dramatic. Maybe an explosion. Or a rainbow of loot popping out in a satisfying arc.”

  “You’re welcome to go poke it,” Richard muttered as he joined her against the metal wall. “See if it’s hiding a second phase.” The sarcasm in his voice was tangible.

  Maria snorted, then leaned back and closed her eyes. When she let someone else get the last word, you knew she was spent.

  Marcus lay flat on his back, arms spread, staring at the sky. “If anything else crawls out of that thing,” he said breathlessly, “I’ll be in my room.”

  Lucas wiped his blade clean on a scrap of ruined hide—and then started laughing. Not a chuckle. Full, uncontrollable laughter. Marcus was one of the toughest people out here. Getting tossed like a rag doll once might bruise his pride. Twice apparently rewired it.

  Marcus and Maria were two sides of the same coin, so when he let the comment go without retort, it said everything. Rebekah’s new ring had dragged him back from the edge of death, leaving him shaken.

  Rebekah staggered, then sat down hard, the green light finally fading from her hands. Thomas moved beside her, steadying her shoulder as she exhaled a shaky laugh.

  “I’m alive,” she said weakly. “Everyone still has all their limbs. That’s… a win.”

  “Yeah,” Thomas agreed quietly. The reality settled in then—we had won. Everyone survived.

  The boss’s remains sank lower, the last recognizable shapes dissolving into bubbling sludge. Acid ate into the earth until nothing remained but a scorched, smoking scar where it had stood.

  Jessica lowered her bow and finally let herself breathe. She glanced at me, then back at the ruined field. “Next time,” she said quietly, “let’s fight something that doesn’t try to eat the battlefield.”

  I huffed a tired laugh, my knees threatening to give out now that adrenaline was no longer holding me together.

  The world stayed quiet. For the first time since the wave began, it felt like it might stay that way.

  “So,” I said, glancing toward Anna, “who wants to pick up the loot?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You’re volunteering?”

  Purple—and even gold—light began to shine through as the boss fully receded, its remains dissolving into the earth. Even the rib bones that had formed its chamber couldn’t survive the unfiltered acidity.

  It was a total success. We had survived another demon wave without casualty. Even better, everyone in my party—except Mark and Glenn—had dinged level 30. New skills were now available to them.

  From where I stood, I could already see at least three books floating where the boss had fallen, along with three pieces of equipment. Anna and Maria made no move toward them. Even with full HP and MP, exhaustion wasn’t something numbers could erase.

  It was Alan who finally broke the stalemate. After a long thirty seconds, he groaned, forced himself upright with his shield, and trudged forward to collect everything. “What are we waiting for?” he said. “Let’s get inside. There’s a lot to talk about.”

  “How about we reconvene in fifteen minutes?” Anna suggested. Comical, but typical. Not a single person in the yard wasn’t coated head to toe in grime—or something worse.

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  “Sounds good,” I agreed. “The items aren’t going anywhere.”

  It took longer than fifteen minutes, but no one complained.

  I had already checked the next demon wave timer after the boss fell. Thirty-six hours. Enough time that telling everyone immediately wouldn’t help—just sour the moment. I passed the message to Jessica quietly before she disappeared to clean up. About an hour later, we gathered again, starting with the loot.

  Book of Consecrated Stand – Lv. 2

  Cast Time: Channeled

  MP Cost: 48

  Cooldown: 15 minutes

  Plant your shield and consecrate the ground, greatly increasing threat. While standing on consecrated ground, you are immune to knockback effects. Additionally, 10% of all damage dealt to allied party members within the area is redirected to you.

  It was a Greater Skill, requiring level 30, and it came at level 2 by default. Alan passed it to Richard without hesitation. Paired with Holy Shield, it would make him an immovable wall.

  Book of Fade – Lv. 1

  Passive

  Become one with the world, greatly reducing threat generation. Enemies struggle to track you. Successfully evading an enemy increases the critical strike chance and damage of your next attack.

  The book glowed gold—rare, valuable. There were two obvious candidates: Bruce and Lucas. Unfortunately for Bruce, he wasn’t level 30 yet. Lucas claimed it without ceremony.

  Book of Piercing Verdict – Lv. 1

  Cast Time: 0.5 seconds

  MP Cost: 28

  Cooldown: None

  Fire a projectile that flies unimpeded. Ignores physical armor and most non-boss resistances. Targets struck receive a Mark of Judgment, increasing all damage taken by 5%. Can pierce multiple enemies, with each successive hit reducing damage by 20%.

  It was a powerful single-target skill with limited pierce utility. Jessica already had Godless Arrow. Evee specialized in precision fire.

  Maria took it.

  Explosive Arrow gave her dominance over groups. Piercing Verdict would let her tear into priority targets when it mattered most.

  Next came the gear—three pieces: an amulet, a staff, and a gun. Or maybe it was a rocket launcher? It was shaped oddly, but there was definitely a barrel. Alan went through them one at a time.

  Staff of Reclamation

  INT +10, VIT -10

  Healing Effectiveness +25%

  MP Regeneration +30%

  Shield Effectiveness +25%

  Grants the skill Swiftmend – Lv. 1

  A staff with power fierce enough to reclaim life from death.

  This was the item that had glowed gold in the pile, and it was immediately clear why. The stats were absurd. Thomas and Rebekah stared at it in silence. The raw healing power alone rivaled most of their combined gear.

  There were two caveats. Rebekah had already received a healing ring last wave, and she lacked any shielding abilities. This was clearly a priest’s staff. Thomas accepted it.

  Only after equipping it could he see what Swiftmend did.

  Swiftmend – Lv. 1

  Release a short, concentrated burst of healing, restoring 20% of the target’s HP over three seconds.

  MP Cost: 90

  A fast HoT—perfect for emergencies, though the MP cost was steep.

  The remaining two items glowed purple.

  Evee received the gun without discussion. A few people recoiled once they got a better look at it—even Evee.

  Pus Spitter

  DEX +5, STR +5, AGI +5

  Grants the skill: Transformation

  Grants the skill: Devour

  A grotesque firearm grown from the remains of the devourer. Its chambers flex and grind as if alive, consuming ammunition and expelling it in altered form. All attacks deal additional acid damage. Low chance to inflict Bleed, Corrosion, or Paralyze.

  “Ahh…” Evee hesitated, staring at it like it might bite her. She nearly refused to take it from Alan’s hand. “Can I get dibs on the next heavy-duty glove drop?” she whined.

  At first glance, the weapon seemed straightforward—if anything grown from flesh and bone could be called that. It pulsed faintly, warm to the touch, its internal structure subtly shifting as though it were breathing.

  Then we read further.

  Transformation: Pus Spitter temporarily comes alive, altering its shape, form, and function.

  Evee activated it immediately.

  Bone and cartilage flowed together in her hands. A rifle. A shotgun. A machine gun. Then a compact grenade launcher. It filled nearly every role on the battlefield—everything but a pistol.

  The final skill changed the mood entirely.

  Devour: Allows Pus Spitter to bond with its wielder, consuming life force instead of ammunition to unleash devastating attacks. The weapon pulsed once—slow, deliberate.

  “Let’s get to the last item,” Maria said quickly. “And please… put that thing away.” Several people nodded. Evee looked relieved to comply.

  Alan presented the final piece: a simple amulet. A circular metal disk ringed with sharp spikes, faintly stained red.

  Amulet of Deferred Suffering

  VIT +5

  Grants the skill: Pain Buffer

  Damage is not denied. It is recorded—and paid in time.

  Amulets were rare. The lack of stats meant the skill carried real weight. Every tank eyed it, but Marcus’s brush with death decided it and no one disagreed. He hesitated so Rebekah snatched it from Alan and shoved it into Marcus’s hands. He equipped it eagerly.

  Pain Buffer: For the next 10 seconds, all damage taken is converted into damage-over-time.

  Which sounded unbelievably broken, and then he read the next line: “At the end of the effect, 20% of damage taken but not healed is dealt in a single hit.” He paused, “Does that mean if I take five times my total HP and don’t get healed…” Marcus asked slowly.

  “You die,” Alan eyed the Amulet with desire, as if his comment might scare Marcus into handing it over.

  Marcus hesitated—but didn’t remove it.

  With that it was time to wrap it up and bring everyone back to reality. “Everyone should get some rest,” I said. “We leave tomorrow.” Jessica and Lucas both knew and agreed, which was why I was confident to just say it without discussion.

  “Tomorrow?” Maria groaned.

  “If you’d rather fight the next wave at three in the morning, we can stay.” I retorted. “It’s in 36 hours.”

  “Fuck,” she muttered. “I’ll be in my room.”

  No one laughed.