The Classless Sorcerer's Self-Stealing System

"Hold… fire!"

A barrage of arrows and spells flung through the air upon command, lights coalescing amidst the heat and grime of the battle at hand, all of which struck Kubranul's black-scaled hide a moment later. Blychert's own coupling of icicle spells struck the dragon's foreleg dead-on, though the massive creature seemed hardly affected by any of it, including the much more powerful spells of Bly's counterparts.

Snarling, the dragon reared back onto its hindlegs in fury, and an all too familiar stream of lightning breath began to crackle from within its agape mouth.

"Shields at the ready!" Kagal shouted, his heavy accent rolling on the 'r'. Just as quickly, the Undaunted's dwarven paladin slammed the butt of his quarterstaff into the ground, which caused a sprawling of radiant energy to form along the stone at their feet.

Blychert felt the immediate lift of Kagal's magic-bolstering spell as it washed over his entire body, and he lifted his hands in preparation for what was to come.

Kubranul's forelegs slammed into the ground, his back arched once, and his neck snapped to the right. The lightning poured across his teeth and rippled across the chamber, making straight for the group of spellcasters.

"Now!" Kagal exclaimed.

Releasing his shield spell, Bly watched as a collage of spiraling mana colors flooded the chamber for a moment. The wall of magical energy illuminated the darkened area, as the beam of lightning breath crackled towards them. It struck, quaking the ground on all sides of the group, but the defenses held.

"Another volley!" Kagal shouted, not a moment after the lightning had passed. In response, the group of casters, as well as Hugo and Ilhrae on the far back line, moved back into the attacking phase of their battle strategy.

Stealing a glance at the rest of the mid-range group, Bly couldn't help but wonder for a moment if they really weren't a match for Kubranul, after all. The dragon didn't show any signs of slowing down, but Nazojan and Nelkaar were keeping it entrenched at close quarters, on the faraway front line, giving the dragon little ability to maneuver elsewhere.

Between Blychert, Velanni, Merlind, and Kagal, the defensive shape and magical support engine of the group's attack was kept fairly robust. Jhannrick supported the frontliners with blood magic-based buffs, and Taren kept the pressure on Kubranul as high as possible with a series of auxiliary summons to bolster their fighting numbers. Whenever the dragon tried to target the mid-range or back line, the group pivoted into a defensive phase, which was further amplified by Kagal's spell amplification aura.

And then, of course, there were Nazojan and Nelkaar themselves…

Ahead of the group, Nazojan's battle aura dominated, radiating a deep, auburn color, his battleaxe twisting and turning through the air as he leapt across the floor, swinging wildly but with undoubted precision. Alongside him, Nelkaar's aura burned bloody red. Her sword strikes were brutal, likely lethal to most spawns with just a single swing, though she was much more reserved in comparison to the orc. Falko assisted them with close range maneuvers too, though the other two were undoubtedly the group's major source of damage.

All things considered, they were faring well against such a formidable foe.

Too well. Blychert thought unnervingly.

By all metrics, they had locked Kubranul out of this fight completely. No matter how hard he tried to find an advantage, the group seemed to have an answer for him, whether it be through spellcraft or by sheer brute force. The dragon had certainly flung all manner of attacks at them in a relatively short span of time, but those had largely been contained to the front line, which was already being heavily supported from the mid-range. The mid-range and back line were untouchable, even with the dragon attempting to reach them from a position of aerial advantage, since both Nelkaar and Nazojan weren't easily brushed aside.

Was Kubranul really… powerless?

"Shields!" Kagal shouted once again, and again the group defended an errant burst of lightning with seemingly little effort.

Kubranul, a creature of undoubtedly high intelligence… there was no way something like that could be this ineffective. In fact, it was almost as if…

"As if he's stalling." Blychert murmured to himself curiously.

It was no question that as a group, they were burning through mana and stamina at a reasonably high rate. The degree of spells and the luminosity of battle auras all but guaranteed as much. Furthermore, Kubranul had deduced fairly quickly that Bly had depleted himself back before he'd deployed his scheme. Hadn't he? His transmogrifier had gotten him out of a bad situation, sure, but it still stood to reason that the dragon must have understood resources at a basic level, if not more than that. And if not, then he certainly adapted quickly.

That being the case, if Kubranul could accurately deduce the resource levels of the group, simply by watching them, then what would he even gain out of it? If he was as powerful as that, then why would he go to the extra effort of making this more difficult for himself?

"Velanni, can you divine anything?" Jhannrick asked urgently, "If we can glean some kind of vulnerability—"

"Don't you think I've tried already?" Velanni interjected, the latest of her attacking spells firing off towards the dragon. Twirling her staff around, she frowned at the wizard, "There isn't any information to be found, Jhan. It's like—I don't know, like this creature was spawned without data points whatsoever. I don't even know what rating it is, much less what kind of spawn we're dealing with."

"How can a boss not have stats?" Merlind asked, a mild worry in his voice, "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Enough chit chat!" Kagal shouted, "We've got a dragon to slay. Now listen closely, I'm going to amplify all attacking magic for several minutes. In that time, you'll pump that dragon with as many offensive spells as you can muster. We need to find an opening for our front line!"

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"Not happening." Jhannrick shook his head, "You're pushing yourself too hard as it is, old man. We need auras on the defensive, let Nel handle the attack."

"I may be old, but I'm not blind." Kagal replied, "We've barely left a scratch on that thing as it is. If we don't start hurting it soon, we'll all be out of mana!"

So, Blychert wasn't the only one thinking that after all.

"…Alright." Jhannrick nodded hesitantly, "We'll do it your way."

"Hm." Kagal nodded, before moving into the center of the spellcasting group. "Holy annex of the mountain's fury…"

The paladin began his incantation, and it didn't take much longer after that for the glow of his magic aura to form at their feet once again. It billowed up around the group of spellcasters, and Bly could feel its power surge through his body. He felt momentarily powerful—unstoppable, as if his psyche were suddenly taken over by some higher power to enact a degree of obliteration unheard of before now.

"Give it everything you've got!" Kagal shouted thunderously, the strands of divine magic cascading across him like a stone sat beneath a stream of water, "Leave no stone unturned! Unsheathe your mightiest spells and commit this creature back to the bygone era!"

Magic erupted, rip-roaring across the chamber as the onslaught of spells pummeled Kubranul with almost no sense of precision. Blychert shouted furiously, pumping elemental spell after elemental spell, giving little thought to what he was casting all the while. He simply chose one and stuck to it, casting as many iterations as was within his ability to perform within the bounds of Kagal's aura.

The dragon hissed and roared, reeling backwards from the sheer impact. He stumbled, losing ground to Nazojan and Nelkaar, who used the opportunity to press their own advantage. Dark ichor spilled from the creature's wounds, and Bly could have sworn that there was something in his eyes that resembled fear.

Was he afraid to die?

Was he afraid to fall without ever knowing his purpose?

Well, it didn't seem to matter now. They had him pinned in a proverbial corner, and they weren't relenting one bit.

Suddenly, however, Kubranul's wings billowed out, and in a single, desperate motion, the dragon was gone, disappeared into the pure darkness of the chamber behind him.

A cautious silence filled the chamber, broken only by the sounds of weary, recovering breaths.

"Is everyone alright?" Nelkaar addressed immediately, stepping back towards the rest of the group.

Blychert glanced around, not noticing that anyone seemed seriously injured. Everyone seemed a bit shaken up, at least everyone except for Nazojan, and the members of the Undaunted. It was easy to forget that all of them were running on very little food and sleep. Bly was amazed that all of their coordination was as effective as it was. But then, he supposed that was to be expected from seasoned, high-level delvers, regardless of how well they knew each other.

"Nelkaar, your arm is bleeding." Kagal's voice said above the rest of the small talk. The paladin walked over to Nelkaar and took her by the gauntlet, raising his quarterstaff as he did. Immediately, a soft white glow flashed from the gem affixed to his staff, and the aura passed over to Nelkaar's injured arm.

"If the dragon is gone, we shouldn't linger." Jhannrick insisted urgently, "We can regroup, Nelkaar? Attack it at fuller strength."

Bly wasn't sure how much more stacked of a group they could reasonably ask for when it came to fighting a dragon, but he supposed a lot of them weren't at full strength anyway. He wasn't exactly thrilled to leave this here, considering he still had so many burning questions, but it was certainly better than dying unprepared.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Kubranul was toying with them…

"Agreed." Nelkaar said, unclipping the mask from her helmet, as she addressed the rest of the group, "You fought well. I can't ask any more of you than this. We'll proceed onward, and try to find our way out. If the dragon—"

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

One moment, Bly was standing in the middle of the group, watching Nelkaar speak. The next, he was lying on the ground, a smoldering blaze of fire and lightning sprawled out across the chamber all around him.

Slowly, Blychert pulled himself up.

The noise around him was muffled, the cries and shouts of the rest of his group as their silhouettes rushed back and forth. Someone was injured… maybe a few of them? Bly's mind was so foggy all of a sudden, and there was a deep ringing in his ears that wouldn't relent.

"Trelen…?"

"…Alyse?" Bly mumbled unintelligibly.

There were whispers—so many whispers all around him, like thousands of small voices all talking and saying the most uncomprehensible things. It was just… gibberish? Just noises and sounds, it was like—

"Administrator." Bly muttered.

It sounded just like that too, didn't it. Those whispers were making the same exact noises that he remembered the attributors and the administrator making. But why was he hearing that in a place like this. Did he hit his head? Was he dying?

"Trelen!" Nelkar's voice breeched his innermost thoughts.

All of a sudden, the whispers and the ringing were gone entirely. There were just the frantic voices of the rest of the group, and the roaring flames around them.

"Nelkar?" Bly looked up at the swordsman expectantly, "What… what happened?"

"On your feet." She insisted, before grabbing Bly by the scruff and dragging up on end. Inspecting him for a moment, she frowned, "The back of your head is bleeding. Kagal. Kagal!"

Peering past the swordsman, Blychert saw Ilhrae hunched over the lifeless body of Hugo, trying to provide aid, but to seemingly no avail. Falo pulled her away, and simply broke down into tears. Kagal, meanwhile, was casting magic on Taren's unmoving body. The fallen wizard's head was resting gently in Nazojan's lap, who himself was covered in burns and bruises of all kinds.

"Save him!" Nazojan's voice pleaded, his voice equally as distraught as it was enraged, "Damn it, Kagal! Save him. Don't you die on me, Taren. You hear me? You're getting out of here—you—your daughter—I…"

"I'm sorry… Naz." Kagal lowered his head, the aura of his magic already fading, "He's passed."

The chamber quieted. All Blychert could do was watch, unsure how he was supposed to help in this situation. There was nothing he could do.

A hard lump began to form in the back of Bly's throat.

Maybe it would have been better if he had left them all suspended in time. Maybe he could have—should have done more to defeat the dragon on his own. Then, he'd probably be dead, but everyone else would still be alive possibly.

If he couldn't even put his classless abilities to use, to actually help people, then what good was he? What was the point of him being here at all?! Living this lie just to watch everyone around him get hurt and suffer as a result? Was all of this his fault? Was he better off alone?

Was he better off dead?

"How unfortunate…" Kubranul's voice echoed sinisterly from somewhere in the endless darkness, sending a shiver down Blychert's spine, "But considering your own methods, I see it only fitting that I should be allowed to respond in kind."

"You…" Nazojan murmured. Suddenly, his face lifted, and there was a sparkle of deep yellow in his eye, "I will rip your head from your neck, worm! Show yourself!"

"I am looking forward to it." Kubranul chuckled. As he did, a crackle of lightning on the far side of the chamber revealed his massive silhouette, and those blue eyes that burned, "I have learned quite a great deal from all of you in our short time together. So, please, continue to show me everything you have at your disposal. How did he say it? Oh, yes… leave no stone unturned."

"Trelen." Nelkaar looked down at Bly with a grim expression, her sword firmly in hand, "Stay behind me, and shield us both, but only when necessary."

Blychert nodded, still too shocked to say much of anything else.

All of this had played directly into Kubranul's hand, despite the overwhelming attacking numbers and tactics against him. In fact, it seemed to have only emboldened him further. This was truly a boss of insurmountable proportions—a creature unlike anything Blychert had ever experienced, barring perhaps one.

Only time would tell, but Bly was more certain now than ever before, that victory was not a guarantee, it was simply impossible.