Surviving the Game as a Barbarian Chapter 802: First-Class (4)

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Previously on Surviving the Game as a Barbarian...

Bjorn Yandel and his team entered the Arta Secret Base lab, ejecting the first-class monster Sniktura from the Divine Relic's connector amid draining winds from the unstable Core. They endured a grueling two-hour battle without active skills, blocking fangs and dodging corrosive spit while rotating the vanguard and assisting Arta by pressing lit buttons for manual stabilization. As partial powers returned based on proximity to the pit, Sniktura suddenly activated [Seed of Destruction], striking a random target and dropping someone to 0% HP.

Accidents do happen during raids. Honestly, such occurrences are far from new. No matter how long one has been engaged in this game, or how much experience has been amassed—rather, precisely because of prolonged engagement, the undeniable truth emerges: accidents are an inherent, unavoidable part of the process. Dungeon & Stone was crafted with this very principle in mind from its inception. When battles commence, things invariably go awry. And when things go awry, a member of your party inevitably falls. Yet, you continue to cycle through companions, relentlessly pushing towards the Abyss Gate. That, fundamentally, has always been the trajectory of this game. Just as it is now.

“Sniktura has initiated [Seed of Destruction].”

[Seed of Destruction]. A fundamental offensive skill from Sniktura, capable of landing an inescapable blow upon random targets within its radius. While termed a 'basic attack', when unleashed by a Grade One monster, its impact transcends ordinary levels. This is especially true if the target is not positioned as a tank.

“...Huh?”

It begins with a voice of surprise from the rear ranks. BOOOOM—! A moment later, the devastating explosion follows. 'Who was it?' The identity is unknown to me, and I do not turn to look. My immediate priority is to avert the next potential mishap. I raise my shield and advance towards Sniktura.

And then—

'...It shifted slightly off-center.'

Noticing that Sniktura had veered outside the central formation, I firmly re-establish its position, aligning it squarely once more. It is only after implementing these urgent countermeasures that I finally ascertain the identity of the victim. “Leader, it was Lady Tersia!” That voice, laced with panic, belongs to Riris Marone, her tone thick with urgency.

'Tersia...?'

For an instant, a jolt runs through me—but it passes just as quickly. ...She said 'Lady.' Riris Marone does not address Elwen as “Lady Tersia”; she refers to her as “Miss Tersia.” Furthermore, [Elementalization] remains unbroken. This implies the comrade struck by the accident is—

'Beleg Shusia di Tersia.'

Elwen’s maternal uncle. A recent addition to our clan, he joined in pursuit of the Resurrection Stone. “I administered a potion, but he doesn’t look well!” Everyone here has been engaged in exploration for years. Without needing to be prompted, the status updates continue. A mere glance confirms the direness of the situation. But still—

“If we don’t utilize divine power, he’s going to perish!”

Employing Sven Parab’s divine power—our sole healer—for rear-echelon support? Frankly, even this seems fraught with peril. Should his healing energy be diverted from the front lines, the pressure on the vanguard will intensify. And as that pressure mounts, the likelihood of another unforeseen fatality increases. Should one more accident occur, annihilation becomes a distinct possibility. Even under the Yacharul decree, this is a Grade One monster. If this raid falters, we all face demise. This leaves us with three distinct choices.

Option one: Assume the risk and attempt to save Beleg. Option two: Disregard him and press on for a successful raid. Option three: Abort the entire endeavor and withdraw.

“Beleg Shusia di Tersia’s HP has reached 0%.”

“Countdown commences.”

A decision must be made—swiftly. To me, the gravest error is not making the wrong choice, but making a decision too late. Every moment holds a critical window of opportunity. And should that moment be missed, the entire burden of responsibility falls upon the leader. Choice. Once more, the moment of decision has arrived.

“Disengage from Sniktura. Initiate full retreat.”

The command was issued without hesitation. Of course. While the allure of that Essence is strong, it's not as if today represents the final opportunity. There's no certainty of a drop even if we defeat it— SSSSSSSSS— Precisely as the final decision was cemented. A sound like escaping gas fills the air, and the entryway through which we entered abruptly seals shut. [Are you seriously going to sit back and watch the world end just to save one man?] ...You utterly mad individual. [Kill that serpent. Survivors of the fallen Empire, do it—for the world, and for yourselves.] And now, our options have dwindled to two.

***

Having our escape route obstructed—this had never happened before. Not a single instance in the entirety of the game. The Arta Secret Base was designed as a dungeon where, should adversity strike, retreat always remained a viable recourse. So, what exactly is this situation?

“It's no use! Even a Grade Five spell barely left a mark. Given this density, it would require at least a Grade One spell to breach it physically!”

The exit was sealed. [Open the door while I’m being charitable, you mechanical monstrosity.] [...I cannot permit the end of the world.] [Your thoughts are irrelevant. We are not killing that fiend. Open the damned door!] [If that creature is not vanquished, all will perish.] [...].

Even this half-hearted, threatening negotiation proves futile. My fury simmers, yet I confront the reality with a cool head. Our initial three options have contracted to merely two. Risk everyone's lives to save Beleg. Or abandon him to improve the raid's success probability. [Here’s your chance to understand sacrifice. Imperial people, shine brightly even at the end.]

I would relish the opportunity to obliterate that speaker, but it would change nothing. The situation has already solidified, leaving only two paths forward. I must make a choice. And so—

“Call off the retreat. Everyone return to your positions!”

Truthfully, the correct course of action is already evident to me.

Given the circumstances, leaving Beleg to perish while ensuring the raid's success seemed the only logical course of action—

“Ah…”

But then, a sudden realization dawned upon me. Perhaps this very situation was the trigger for the sealed exit. Retreating even when victory was within reach. That would explain why I’d never encountered this predicament before. In any other comparable scenario, I would have always opted for withdrawal. Abandoning one comrade to continue the fight. Yes. If this were merely a game.

BOOOM—!

As I parried Sniktura’s tail with my shield, a past conversation with Beleg flashed through my mind. He had stated:

[…I require the Resurrection Stone. To endure.]

His gaze, like that of a dead fish, suggested a profound detachment from life itself. Or perhaps, he welcomed that very state. 'Perhaps...' The thought flickered through my consciousness. Maybe abandoning him here would ultimately be for the best, for both of us—

BOOM—!

Another forceful impact struck my shield, snapping me back to the present. '...Enough rationalizing.' Back then, my thoughts were: That I wished to mend this broken individual's mindset. It was for this reason I had even permitted him to join our clan. So, then…

“Parab! Channel all your divine power into Beleg!”

“But—”

“I will manage the front lines somehow. Just ensure Beleg is saved, no matter the cost.”

Even as I conveyed this command to my team with unwavering resolve, a seed of doubt lingered about its correctness. If this choice led to another's severe injury—or worse, death—I was certain I would carry that regret indefinitely. But that was a problem for the future. My immediate task was not to dwell on potential outcomes. Once a decision was made, it had to be executed. Just like a steadfast barbarian warrior.

“Beheeeell—RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

I let out a mighty roar and charged forward with everything I had. Reducing the distance meant intensifying the pressure I felt. 'All the better.' Because that implied a lesser burden on the others.

BOOOOOM—!

Perhaps sensing my escalating threat, the creature's movements became even more frenzied. It swung its tail with lethal force. It slammed its colossal head towards me. It opened its cavernous maw as if intending to engulf me entirely.

TATAT—!

I evaded with heightened focus. I adjusted my shield's angle to deflect the brunt of the assault, yet complete evasion was impossible.

BOOM—!

Each time a direct hit landed, my body was flung backward uncontrollably—and with each instance, the frontline comrades surrounding me rushed in to engage the beast. In a short span, injuries began to mount.

CRUNCH—

My own body suffered shattered ribs and fractured kneecaps. But the other frontline fighters—lacking the resistance buffs against poison—were in a far more dire condition. Flesh dissolved. Their skin turned a sickening black, not confined to their faces but spreading across their entire bodies. And yet, despite all these valiant efforts—

“Beleg Shusia di Tersia’s HP has recovered above 1%.”

“Countdown terminated.”

Beleg, lying prone behind us, showed no discernible signs of actual recovery. The reason was simple.

“Beleg Shusia di Tersia is suffering from Poison (Extreme).”

“HP has dropped to 0%.”

“Countdown begins.”

His HP would refill, only to plummet once more. It seemed futile. But that did not render it meaningless. At the very least, he remained alive for the moment. As long as we continued to channel divine power into him, the poison would eventually be rendered inert. 'The true challenge lies in whether we can hold out until that point...' I surveyed the frontline fighters. Judging by their state, they were faring worse than Beleg, who was merely expelling black blood. 'At this pace, everyone is in peril.' Even if we succeeded in saving Beleg, it wouldn't be surprising if someone else perished. No—at this rate, I wasn't even confident we would achieve victory in the raid.

[It’s not too late to reconsider, Imperial.]

Perhaps that voice held wisdom. Maybe it was time to alter our approach. One cannot always attain everything. In the direst moments, focus and sacrifice become paramount. Yes. Therefore… 'All or nothing.' If I were to take a gamble, I would go all-in.

“Disregard Sniktura! Anyone with an opening, destroy all machinery in our vicinity!”

It was time to cast the dice.

***

Unfortunately, Arta—the ancient mechanism that responded only to primordial tongues—failed to comprehend my command. Ah, but that was acceptable. One does not always require words to communicate with sentient entities.

CRASH—!

BOOM—!

Zzzzt, crackle, snap—!

The moment my team commenced the destruction of the surrounding apparatus, the disembodied voice finally betrayed its panic.

[What are you doing?!]

[Stop! Have you lost your senses?!]

[Recall your subordinates—immediately!]

I had but a single retort.

[Then you should have opened the door when I instructed you to, imbecile.]

[Do you wish for the world's end?! You selfish Imperial! It’s not too la—]

[That sentiment is mine. It is not too late—open the door, you mechanical aberration.]

Predictably, the door remained shut. It must have dismissed my actions as a mere bluff, believing we wouldn't dare go this far. It seems the ancients possess a limited understanding of barbarians.

BEEP BEEP—! BEEP BEEP—!

Suddenly, as more machines succumbed to destruction, the emergency sirens blared once more.

SSSSSSSSS—

The power failed, plunging the area into darkness, and moments later, the stark red of emergency lights flickered to life. And then—

CRACKLE—!

I have no idea who initiated it, but—

[The mana core has sustained damage.]

[The emergency stabilization module has been disengaged.]

As this pronouncement echoes—

A ferocious gale starts to swirl from the immense rupture at the lab's core.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—!

A vortex powerful enough to obliterate anything.