Chương 93: Chapter 92. Run Rayne Run

Panic spread in an instant. The tremor that had begun as a low rumble turned violent. The ceiling cracked with sharp reports, and chunks of stone tore free, crashing down onto the descending warband. Rayne saw it happen in fragments. A few soldiers froze outright, staring upward as jagged slabs hurtled toward them. Others tried to raise shields too late. Then a translucent barrier flared to life above the cluster of men. A [Force Shield].

It caught the first wave of falling rock, stone smashing against it and shattering into fragments. Smaller debris bounced harmlessly away, clattering down the stairs. But the relief didn't last. Larger slabs followed. They slammed into the barrier with deafening crashes, and spiderweb cracks began spreading across the surface of the shield.

"Run!" Captain Edran roared from the front, his own mana shield already forming in the air. His voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

"Move! Don't stop!" Other squad leaders echoed him, dragging frozen soldiers back to motion. Formation dissolved into survival as the warband surged forward down the tunnel. Rayne and his party were already sprinting ahead. With the [Force Shield] stretching overhead, they had a brief advantage, but it didn't span the entire column. Beyond its protective dome, men scrambled under a rain of stone. Smaller rocks pinged off helmets and shoulders, glancing off armor with dull thuds.

One larger clipped a pauldron, and he saw a soldier spun away before balancing himself. And as he watched all of it, he heard a crack from above. Ahead, two soldiers went down as a massive slab of rock crashed into them, slamming them to the ground beneath its weight. Rayne swore and veered toward them. He skidded to a stop, crouched, shoved his shield under the edge of the stone, and heaved. His Strength stat was more than enough.

The slab shifted just enough for him to grab one of the men by the collar and yank him free. Blood seeped from beneath the man's helmet.

"Run," Rayne snapped.

"Drink your potion and don't look back!" The soldier nodded weakly and stumbled forward, taking out and uncorking a potion with shaking hands. Rayne turned to the second, even as smaller stones fell around him. This one was worse. His head lolled to the side, blood flowing steadily down his cheek. Rayne pulled him out as well, muscles straining, but the man barely reacted.

Realizing he might not have a potion of his own, Rayne opened the straps of his helmet and pushed his own potion into his mouth, but there was no immediate response. More stones fell around him, and he was far behind the shield now. Rayne frowned, giving the man one last look, realizing he didn't have time, and forced himself to move. If he stayed, both he and the soldier would die. He sprinted forward again, weaving through the mass of soldiers as dust choked the air.

Stones fell everywhere around him, but he somehow managed to miss them all and finally caught up to the glowing shield. The tremors intensified, the tunnel groaning as if the dungeon itself were collapsing. But soon, they reached the end of the tunnel. They burst through the end and stumbled onto what looked like a massive stone ledge carved into the side of the cavern wall. One side was open.

The drop beyond was impossible to see through the haze of falling debris and dust, but the space was enormous, far larger than the stairwell they had just escaped. Even here, the shaking hadn't stopped. Stones rained down from above, bouncing and skidding across the ledge. The only saving grace was that glowstones were embedded along the walls, casting pale light over the chaos. Soldiers ran across the ledge, some stumbling, others dragging the wounded.

And the smarter ones slowed down just enough to get under the shield. But it didn't last long. Cracks had already spread across the entire surface of the [Force Shield]. From where Rayne ran beneath it, he could see the fractures crawling like spiderwebs through translucent mana. The dome shimmered unevenly, thinning in places. If he had to guess, Varrick was stretching it too far.

The apprentice stood near the center of their running formation, jaw clenched, one hand raised as he forced the barrier wider than it was meant to be. It didn't just cover their squad anymore—it tried to cover as many soldiers as possible. And that was exactly why it failed. A massive slab tore free from the ceiling above and came crashing down toward the middle of the shield. The impact was deafening. The barrier flared bright white for half a heartbeat— Then it shattered.

Mana cracked apart like glass, dissolving into particles of fading light. The slab continued its descent, but the shield had slowed it just enough.

"Move!" Rayne barked. He and his party dove sideways as the stone slammed into the ledge, the force shaking the entire platform. It punched a jagged hole through the ground where they had been seconds earlier, rubble skidding over the edge into the unseen abyss below. Varrick staggered, breathing hard, but he didn't fall. With the shield gone, the rain of stone intensified. Smaller rocks hammered against raised shields. Larger chunks forced soldiers to weave and adjust mid-run.

Dust clogged the air, turning every breath into a struggle. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Rayne let out a breath and drew his sword. He pushed mana into the blade while he ran. After repeated use, it came easier now. The flow wasn't as sharp or fast as when he planted his feet and focused fully, but it was enough. Dark energy crawled along the steel as he kept sprinting. Then he saw it.

Ahead of them, another slab tore loose from the ceiling—huge and jagged, directly in their path. At their current speed, they would be right beneath it when it landed. Rayne didn't hesitate. He swung. Death mana tore free in a crescent arc. It didn't strike the slab dead center as he had hoped, but it carved deep along the edge. The force deflected it just enough. Instead of crushing them head-on, the slab hit at an angle, skidding across the ledge before rolling off the cliff in a grinding tumble.

Rayne took a sigh of relief, but he didn't slow. The ledge stretched forward endlessly, disappearing into dust and falling debris. But as they kept running, lungs burning and boots scraping against loose gravel, Rayne saw the ledge bend slightly ahead. It curved inward. And just beyond that curve, there was a shadow where the falling debris did not reach.

"There's a roof up ahead!" Bran's voice rang out from near the front.

"Just a little more!" The words rippled backward through the chaos.

"There's a roof!"

"Just ahead!"

"Keep running, you bastards!" At once, all the soldiers felt one thing collectively that had been dearly missing through this ordeal: hope that they might actually survive this. It wasn't something they had carried for the last stretch of this nightmare. So far, they had only been reacting—running, dodging, and hoping that no boulder fell on their backs. But now there was something tangible ahead of them. Salvation. Rayne saw it happen almost instantly.

Men who had been barely keeping pace straightened and pumped their legs harder. He even saw Varrick try to gain distance. The apprentice pushed himself forward, weaving between soldiers to get closer to the front. His armor was dusted white with stone powder, and his face was pale, but his steps soon put a considerable gap between him and the others. With his stats, Rayne knew he could easily surge ahead too. He wasn't even close to exhausted. Panic also didn't slow him. If anything, it sharpened him.

But he didn't move ahead. He stayed with his party. His presence added to the chances of their survival, and he didn't want to abandon the men under him. Every time a massive slab tore loose from the ceiling ahead, Rayne responded. He sent out [Death Strike] after [Death Strike]. Dark crescents of mana tore through the air, slicing edges off boulders, deflecting their trajectory just enough for the squad to slip by. It wasn't perfect. Shards still rained down. Smaller stones struck helmets and shoulders.

One larger one chipped against Kesh's pauldron and left a deep dent. But it was better than being crushed outright. Unfortunately, it drained his mana fast. Within minutes, he felt it thinning in his core, a hollow sensation creeping in. Every arc after the other was less weighty and destructive, but it did the job, and that was enough. They were finally close to the bend. The scouts were the first to disappear around it, followed by Varrick, who had caught up to them.

Captain Edran was right behind him, Casper close by his side. One by one, more soldiers vanished around the curve.

"Just a bit more!" Rayne shouted, forcing strength into his voice.

"We're almost there! Keep going!" But just as he said that, he heard a heavy crack right behind him. A massive boulder smashed down somewhere in the rear ranks, and he heard a soldier groan in agony. Rayne didn't turn. The sound didn't belong to his party. And right now, he could not afford to divide his attention when they were so close to safety. His jaw tightened, but he kept moving. They finally were steps away from the curve, and he jumped to cover the last stretch of it and finally crossed it.

The rain of stone ceased above him immediately. He stumbled into what looked like a recessed section carved into the cavern wall. Walls enclosed them from three sides, and there was a solid stone ceiling overhead that didn't look like it was going to fall anytime soon. Only the entrance and a narrower exit on the far side remained open. The other soldiers were already on the ground, leaning against the walls and taking deep breaths, even as dust clogged the air.

Rayne staggered a few more steps before finally stopping. He sat down hard against the wall, sword slipping from his fingers as he exhaled deeply. Around him, his party and the rest of the soldiers finally entered and collapsed in similar fashion. Some lay flat on their backs. Others slid down the walls, helmets resting against stone. A few coughed violently, trying to clear dust from their lungs. Beyond the entrance, the storm of falling debris continued unabated.

The dungeon was still collapsing out there, and he didn't know how long they would have to stay here, but for now, he was simply glad not to have gone down like the few unfortunate men. Rayne forced himself to lift his head and look around. Instinctively, he began counting. He moved his eyes slowly across the resting soldiers, taking note of familiar faces. His stomach sank as he reached the end of the cluster. At least six were missing. And that was only the ones he was certain about.

Several others sat slumped against the walls with blood soaking into their armor, potions pressed to their lips. Going down to a collapsing ceiling instead of monsters in a fair fight was probably the worst thing for a hardened soldier. Across the resting spot, Captain Edran appeared to be doing the same thing. His sharp eyes moved across the warband, and Rayne saw it clearly—the slight tightening of his expression. His face fell. Losing six men to a trap like that was unforgivable.

Edran rose without a word and turned toward the scouts. His gaze locked onto Bran. Bran noticed it and spoke before the captain could.

"We didn't sense a trap, Captain." Captain Edran's brows furrowed.

"What?" Several nearby soldiers lifted their heads at that.

"There were no mechanisms. No pressure plates. No threads embedded in the path," Bran continued steadily.

"We checked as we always do."

"Then what was that?" Edran demanded. Bran frowned.

"It wasn't a trap in the usual sense." He gestured faintly toward the tunnel outside, where debris still crashed down in intervals.

"If I had to guess, the dungeon sensed the heat in our bodies, and it activated on its own once we crossed a certain threshold." A murmur spread among the nearby soldiers.

"There was nothing to disarm," Bran added.

"Such traps aren't meant to be avoided. There's no mechanism to find. The entire structure is the trap." The other scouts behind him nodded in agreement. Captain Edran didn't look pleased. But he didn't argue either. After a long second, he exhaled sharply and sat back down against the wall.

"Rest," he ordered evenly.

"Make sure you're in good health until the debris stops falling. It should." His eyes flicked toward the still-collapsing ledge outside.

"And then we will move." A few soldiers nodded immediately. Others focused silently on drinking potions or adjusting dented armor. Rayne's own squad barely spoke. They sat close together, backs to the stone, simply breathing. No one joked or complained. They needed the silence after all the running. Rayne leaned his head slightly and kept looking at the falling debris outside the shelter. The dungeon groaned and trembled, as if alive, and he wondered what else it had waiting for them.

How much deeper did they need to go before they reached the core? And beyond that, another thought lingered in his mind. What was happening to the main army right now? Were they faring better against the undead? Or were they taking even worse casualties and getting crushed? As he pondered those questions, Rayne had no idea he was going to get his answer soon.

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