Chương 65: Chapter 62: The Threshold of the Wyvern

I scanned the room, receiving firm nods of readiness from every member of the squad. Mike instantly engaged his sneak proficiency, his physical form turning fluid and blead seamlessly into the shadows as I threw the heavy door completely open. The rest of the team pressed inward behind him in a tight, disciplined stack: Pete anchoring the front line, Alex and myself trailing on the flanks, and Joe locked firmly in the center pocket, his heavy Remington rifle held in a low ready position.

The moment our boots crossed into the chamber, We received a notification the again, was swiftly swiped away: [The Shaman's Retreat.] The robed creature behind the altar paused its chanting. It slowly turned its head, emitting a wet, guttural, chuffing noise from its snout that was clearly meant to be a laugh. Exuding a chilling sense of absolute confidence, the Shaman stepped away from the dais, walking calmly toward us across the stone floor.

Halfway across the room, the creature hoisted a long, gnarled staff topped with a pulsing, raw gemstone, its jaw unhinging as it began to rapidly utter the incantations of a high-tier spell. Before the magical formula could trip the system threshold, a massive, translucent blue appendage erupted from the darkness. Mike's spectral hand slammed violently into the creature's torso, pinning both of its arms and the staff directly against its chest in an iron-clad grip. The spectral hand squeezed.

A loud splintering CRACK echoed through the vault as the shaft of the staff shattered under the immense pressure, abruptly aborting the casting sequence. Joe didn't waste the opening. He brought the Remington's stock firmly against his shoulder, exhaled a slow, measured breath, and squeezed the trigger. CRACK. The heavy. 308 round tore through the air with deafening velocity. The Shaman's head instantly detonated in a fine red mist, and the lifeless, robed corpse collapsed heavily to the stone floor.

A split second later, the golden text boxes we had been waiting for finally flashed across our vision. [Floor III Cleared. Sub-Boss Defeated.] The intense combat adrenaline receded, and our muscles relaxed as we lowered and stowed our firearms. After a brief pause to hydrate and let our stamina pools begin their passive recovery, we initiated the extensive process of harvesting the chamber.

"Alex, go ahead and loot the Shaman's body," I directed, leaning back against a stone pillar.

"He was running a pure caster build. Whatever gear or modifiers he was sporting will suit your specialization far better than ours." We didn't have to spend any time tracking down the floor's physical reward drop; a large, dark timber chest sat squarely on top of the central altar, positioned directly beneath a massive, towering stone effigy of a winged reptile.

More specifically, it was a precise depiction of a wyvern—lacking any independent front limbs, but hosting a pair of immense, ribbed wings alongside a long, thick tail lined with barbs. Mike stepped up to examine the iron-banded crate, his passive tracking confirms showing a clean slate.

"Mage Hand is still locked on its cool-down cycle," Mike noted, shaking out his wrist.

"But the perimeter is completely clear of physical or magical wires." Taking the initiative, I walked up and threw the heavy lid open myself. Fortunately, his reading held true, and the seals broke without a single mechanical counter-measure tripping. [Floor III Sub-Boss Defeated. Loot Chest Generated.] [Loot Identified:] 1x Mana Crystal (Uncommon Tier - High-Density Earth Aspect) 1x Darkwood Focus Staff (Rare Tier - -10% Spell Mana Cost, -10% Skill Cool-downs) 2x High-Grade Healing Droughts (System Minted) 2x High-Grade Stamina Droughts (System Minted) 1x High-Grade Mana Regeneration Drought (System Minted) 120x Gold Coins (System Minted - Split 24g per party member) Peering inside, my eyes instantly locked onto a familiar, high-density glow.

I reached in and pulled out a clean, pulsing mana crystal, immediately transferring it into my Ring of Holding. Across the room, Alex called out as he turned over the Shaman's tattered garments.

"The corpse has some decent light armor pieces, but the primary focus staff is completely destroyed from Mike's squeeze."

"Let me take a look at it," Pete said, stepping away from the altar.

"One of my core Blacksmith class passives allows me to extract and recoup raw materials from structurally damaged or broken items." Alex tossed the two splintered sections of the staff across the floor. Pete caught them, closing his eyes as he focused a minor spark of his mana pool into his palms. Within seconds, the dark timber disintegrated into a fine, gray dust, leaving behind a pristine, glowing core gemstone that had been embedded in the headpiece.

"The wood base was too far gone to salvage," Pete noted, tossing the stone over to me.

"But here." I caught the gemstone, a flash of genuine shock hitting me as the system text updated. It was a fourth high-density mana crystal. Alex looked momentarily disgruntled at the loss of the first complete mage weapon we had uncovered, but I simply smiled and reached back down into the depths of the floor chest, pulling out a secondary item. It was a short, perfectly balanced staff crafted from an incredibly dense, knurled dark wood.

The moment Alex ran an inspect over the weapon, his disappointment vanished, replaced by an expression of pure glee.

"It's an intact arcane catalyst," he reported, turning the wood over in his hands.

"It actively reduces casting costs by ten percent and shaves a flat modifier off all elemental cool-downs." I smiled at my son, turning back to finalize the remaining contents of the crate. This time, the bottom of the compartment held a significantly larger deposit of gold coins, alongside three thick glass vials filled with vibrant fluids. Running a quick scan, I verified their properties: two high-grade healing and stamina droughts, and a dense blue mana regeneration potion.

I passed the mana potion straight to Alex.

"Do you think your alchemy rank is high enough to deconstruct the active ingredients of a system-minted draft like this?" I asked. Alex nodded slowly, skimming the system description.

"It'll take some dedicated laboratory time back at the school, but the structural formula is visible. I should be able to map it out."

"What about the rest of the Shaman's armor attributes?" I pushed. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it"The ring grants a flat bonus of plus fifty to the wearer's max mana pool," Alex explained, sliding the band onto his finger.

"And these robes provide a fifteen percent modifier to passive mana regeneration. The interface says it qualifies as a synchronized light armor set when paired with the underlying leather components."

"Go ahead and equip the full set now," I advised. Alex scoffed, looking down at the diminutive corpse on the floor.

"Are you kidding me, Dad? This creature was barely four and a half feet tall. There is absolutely no physical way these leather plates are going to fit my frame."

"Just humor me," I replied with a wry smile. Shaking his head in disbelief, Alex unbuckled his current gear, picked up the Shaman's leather bracers, and slid his forearm into the sleeve. To his absolute amazement, the moment the leather made contact with his skin, a faint blue light rippled across the seams, and the material expanded smoothly, molding itself perfectly to his exact physical dimensions. Alex stared down at his arm, his eyes wide with excitement.

"I was highly hoping the system's logic would translate that way," I chuckled.

"I know we aren't supposed to rely entirely on old game theory down here, but in every virtual world I've ever run, looted armor automatically scales to the user's character model—whether it was dropped by a giant or a goblin." Alex quickly snapped the remaining components into place, and within minutes, he was fully outfitted in upgraded, specialized caster gear.

After splitting the substantial gold cache evenly among the party, I walked back out into the main outpost cavern to systematically harvest the discarded armor from the fallen Kobold warriors. I personally equipped a set of black leather bracers, greaves, and pauldrons, ensuring they scaled to fit over my frame while keeping my primary tactical vest with its ballistic plates mounted firmly over my chest.

The remaining salvageable blades, bone shields, and leather armor pieces were packed tightly into my Ring of Holding; we would haul the entire armory back to the school to equip our defensive perimeter teams if we could. I was highly pleased to note that the Kobold plates were a matte, unreflective black, meaning they wouldn't impose a stealth penalty or interfere with my shadow abilities, though unfortunately, none of the common-tier warrior gear carried any active attribute or skill enchantments.

With the logistics completely wrapped up, I pulled down my master system notification log to review the cumulative experience totals from the floor wipe. [Floor III Combat Summary:] Enemies Defeated: 43x Kobold Warriors (Lvl 6-10) — Experience Granted. Enemies Defeated: 1x Kobold Shaman (Lvl 15 Elite) — Substantial Experience Granted. [System Alert: Level Up Threshold Achieved!] You have successfully reached Levels: 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, and 17.

Unassigned Attribute Points Available: 18 Unassigned Skill Points Available: 12 I stood frozen in the center of the room, completely floored by the sheer velocity of the advancements. I had fully expected to hit level twelve, and perhaps scrape the edge of thirteen once the quest was finalized, but executing a six-level vertical jump before we even breached the final layer was staggering.

A sudden realization hit me, and I cursed myself silently; we had been inside the mountain for well over four hours now, meaning my 'Well Rested' multiplier had officially expired before the final wave. If I had managed our time more efficiently, that extra percentage would have easily pushed me to level eighteen. But there was no use dwelling on it; we were moving at a massive pace regardless.

Because my Ranger class automatically allocated a flat point into both Dexterity and Constitution with every vertical level, those two attributes had scaled significantly higher than my baseline scores. Accessing the allocation matrix, I quickly distributed my eighteen free points: four into Intelligence, four into Wisdom, four into Charisma, and the remaining six straight into Strength before tapping the confirmation prompt.

The instant the points locked in, a physical sensation washed through my nervous system that was entirely unlike any level-up I had experienced so far. It wasn't just a sudden replenishment of health or a passing wave of clarity; it was a profound, intoxicating surge of raw physical power and absolute biological well-being. Once the transition stabilized, I pulled up my status interface, filtering the screen to display only my current level and core attributes.

STATUS SCREEN Name: Derrick Miller Race: Human Level: 17 Class: Ranger Specialization: Shadow Ranger Attributes: Strength: 29 Dexterity: 33 Constitution: 30 Intelligence: 25 Wisdom: 24 Charisma: 24 Health: 300 Stamina: 330/330 Mana: 250 Carry Capacity: 290 lbs. Armor Class: 37 Studying the values, a distinct pattern emerged—every single one of my baseline attributes had officially crossed the threshold of twenty.

I wondered if that specific mathematical cross-over was the catalyst for the intense euphoria I had just felt. Before the integration, a score of twenty was likely the absolute peak of natural human capability—the hard cap for an un-initialized survivor. Now that every single one of my metrics sat well beyond that evolutionary ceiling, did that officially classify my physical baseline as "superhuman?" Standing there in the dim light of the crypt, I certainly felt like it.

Looking around at the rest of the squad, the glowing expressions on their faces confirmed they were experiencing the exact same evolutionary high as their own point allocations finalized. Turning my attention back to the massive double doors situated behind the Shaman's altar, I stepped closer to examine the heavy timber. The wood was covered in ornate, masterfully carved reliefs depicting writhing serpents and massive, prehistoric reptilian beasts.

Every single geometric line of the carving converged toward a central, highly detailed depiction of that same winged wyvern.

"Take a look at the depictions on these frames," I said, drawing the rest of the team over to the threshold.

"This has all the classic structural markers of a boss door. Likely the primary dungeon anchor. We've seen statues, reliefs, and wood carvings of a wyvern across this entire layer. Does anyone have a theory on what could possibly outrank a wyvern in a subterranean ecosystem themed like this?"

"What about a true, western-tier dragon?" Alex asked, adjusting his new robes.

"If we're analyzing standard fantasy lore, true dragons are supposed to sit at the absolute top of the reptilian food chain, far above a wyvern."

"Statistically, yes," I agreed, tracing the carved wings with my finger.

"But if a true dragon populated the lower layers, these Kobolds would be dedicating their altars and iconography to that instead of this. The fact that the entire floor's worship is centered strictly on this specific silhouette tells me the wyvern is the absolute apex predator of this instance. And it's waiting right behind this wood."

"What's the play, boss?" Joe asked, his hand resting on the bolt of his rifle.

"First," I stated, looking at our line, "everyone finishes armoring up using the best available pieces we just scraped off the Kobold sentries. Next, if you haven't locked in your attribute points, clear your screens immediately. Once we're at maximum combat efficiency, we crack this seal just enough to establish a line of sight, assess the interior topography, and formulate our breach." The party murmured their agreement, immediately dispersing to snap on their new plates and finalize their stat adjustments.

Since my own attributes were already locked in, I turned my focus to my twelve unassigned skill points. If we were truly about to step into an arena with a live wyvern, standard ballistic crossfire or traditional archery wasn't going to cut it alone; the creature's hide would likely possess immense natural armor values. My most effective contribution would be high-velocity hit-and-run strikes utilizing my enchanted blade from the blind spots.

Accessing my screen again, I split my points down the middle: I invested six points into [Dodge], elevating it to Apprentice 3, and the remaining six points directly into [Sneak], pushing the proficiency over the threshold into [Journeyman 1]. Refusing to second-guess the build, I hit confirm, feeling the new spatial awareness and muscle memory instantly lock into my limbs.