The Ice Dungeon's final chamber was a frozen colosseum, its towering ice walls glinting like a Starveil vault, stalactites hanging like jagged executioner's blades. The air stabbed my lungs, colder than a merrow's rejection. N'Nazmuz's curse—30 kilos of invisible weight—crushed my shoulders, sapping my stamina, but my Starforged Tunic sparked with Star Qi, easing the drag just enough. My Pyroclast Dual Swords, Ember's Fang and Blaze's Claw, hummed with Fire Qi, their edges itching to carve. Bera, Tira, and Lila were in here—I could feel their presence like a gut punch—but so was something ancient and pissed. My team—eight cultivators, plus Rocky, Vuk, and Varkoth—stood battered but ready. Gorzka's lightning crackled faintly, Vira's water orbs flickered, Lirien's crystal arrows gleamed in her Day Elf hands, and Korn's Wood Qi vines pulsed weakly from prior fights. Zephyr's darkness aura swirled, his usual smirk replaced by a grim nod. We'd lost too many, and the air stank of death.
I crouched, sketching a battle plan in the frost with Ember's Fang's tip. "This chamber's a kill box—wide center, three narrow exits," I said, pointing. "We bait the bastard to the middle, rig traps at the choke points. Varkoth, your Dread Glare stuns—hit hard. Rocky, Vuk, coil around the flanks. Lirien, climb those ledges, snipe from above. Gorzka, channel your lightning through the ice—it'll spread. Vira, Korn, keep us breathing." I pulled Zenoite shards, Glowvine bulbs, and Moonflower sap from my spatial ring. "I'm rigging a dust bomb—Zenoite and sap. When it blows, we swarm. No heroics, or I'll prank your corpse."
Varkoth, coiled as a Shadowveil bracer on my arm, hissed, "Father, I sense… great ice. It hates." His Beginner Master Darkness aura rippled, his four-meter form shimmering with black-red scales, his crest flaring like a bloodied crown. His voice, clear since his breakthrough, sent chills down my spine. "I blind it for you."
"Good snake," I grinned, slipping a Glowvine bulb into Gorzka's pack for a prank—pink powder would coat her later, if we survived this shitshow. "Let's dance."
A bone-rattling rumble shook the chamber, and it slithered out—a Royal Basilisk, its legless body a mass of shimmering blue scales, tougher than Zenoite plate. Its eyes burned like frozen voids, Middle Grand Master Ice aura flooding the cavern like a blizzard. It locked onto Varkoth, its hiss a blade of malice. "Supreme bloodline… a threat to my reign. I'll end you first, worm, and your fleshling Father." Its tail lashed, sending ice spikes erupting from the ground like spears.
"Scatter!" I roared, diving behind a stalagmite as spikes shredded the ice where I'd stood. I tossed my dust bomb—Zenoite shards mixed with Moonflower sap—at a stalactite base. It ignited, exploding in a blinding cloud of jagged fragments. The Basilisk recoiled, scales deflecting most shards, but Lirien's crystal arrows struck true, cracking its hide. "Varkoth, now!" I shouted. His Dread Glare flared, a pulse of darkness freezing the beast for a heartbeat. Gorzka's lightning arced through the ice floor, sizzling its scales, while Rocky and Vuk lunged, claws scraping uselessly against its armored body.
I sprinted, curse dragging my boots, and slashed Blaze's Claw across its flank. The blade sparked, barely denting its scales. "Tough bastard!" I cursed, dodging a tail swipe that cratered the wall. Its freezing breath swept out, icing my arm—pain seared, but Vira's water mist thawed it, Korn's vines wrapping my limb, Wood Qi dulling the burn. "Keep it pinned!" I barked, rigging a trap at an exit—Zenoite wires laced with Glowvine threads, set to slice when tripped. The Basilisk slithered, triggering it, wires cutting shallow gashes into its scales. It roared, thrashing, and I saw my chance.
"Zephyr, bait it!" I yelled. He darted, Umbral Fang flashing, drawing its gaze. I warned, "Don't look in its eyes!" Too late—two cultivators glanced up, locked onto its voids, and turned to stone, petrified solid. A tail swipe smashed them to shards. Six left. "Damn it!" I growled, climbing a stalactite, curse-fueled strength hauling me up despite my screaming muscles. I aimed for a massive overhang, slashing Ember's Fang—ice groaned, then crashed, pinning the Basilisk's tail. It screeched, freezing breath blasting another cultivator, his body encased in ice, not stone, before shattering.
"Father, I bind!" Varkoth hissed, Shadow Bind coiling around the Basilisk's midsection like dark chains. Its scales resisted, but the bind slowed it. Lirien's arrows pierced its wounded eye, blood spraying, while Gorzka's lightning cracked another scale. "Nice shot!" I shouted, sliding down, rigging a prank mid-fight—a Glowvine bulb under its belly, set to burst pink. It exploded, coating its scales in glittering powder. "Pretty snake, huh?" I cackled, the team laughing despite the blood, morale spiking.
The Basilisk broke Varkoth's bind, its tail grazing him, a frost shard slicing his flank. He hissed, "Father, I endure!" and lunged, fangs sinking into a cracked scale, venom sizzling. Rocky and Vuk coiled around its body, claws finding weak spots, but its breath froze Vuk's leg, slowing him. Korn's vines patched Varkoth, Vira's mists healing Rocky. "Keep it together!" I yelled, sketching a new plan—use the chamber's stalactites. I tossed another dust bomb at the ceiling, aiming for a cluster. It blew, dropping shards, but the Basilisk's scales deflected most, its tail smashing another cultivator. Four left—Gorzka, Vira, Lirien, Korn.
"Lirien, blind it!" I roared. She climbed higher, arrows raining, one piercing its other eye. It thrashed, blind but deadly, its freezing breath turning the floor to a skating rink. I slipped, curse dragging me down, but Zephyr hauled me up, his darkness aura flaring. "Owe me, elf," he grunted. I grinned, tossing a Zenoite shard into its open maw—Glowvine-laced, it burst inside, choking it with pink dust. "Choke on that, snake!" I laughed, the team rallying.
Varkoth hissed, "Father, we end this!" His Dread Glare hit again, stunning the beast.
I saw my shot—every ounce of stamina, every shred of curse-fueled strength, poured into my Heaven Splitter. I leaped, Starforged Tunic blazing like a supernova, Ember's Fang and Blaze's Claw raised. "Die!" I roared, driving both blades into its neck, the strike cracking scales, severing muscle, and lopping its head clean off. The force sent an 8-meter crack splitting the ice floor, frost exploding. The Basilisk's body slumped, blood pooling, freezing into crimson ice.
I collapsed, curse crushing me, stamina gone. "Girls…" I gasped, crawling to an icy wall. There—Bera, Tira, Lila, encased in crystal, perfect but lifeless. I swung Blaze's Claw, shattering the ice, but my vision blurred, darkness swallowing me. Varkoth's voice echoed, "Father, live."
I woke to Zephyr's growl, "Get up, elf." He'd scavenged the Basilisk—scales, fangs, a core—stuffing my ring. Gorzka, Vira, Lirien, and Korn stood, barely, wounds bleeding, faces pale. Korn's vines wrapped Gorzka's gashed arm, Vira's mists soothing Lirien's frostbitten hands. Lirien's crystal aura flickered, her bow still clutched. "We're alive, somehow," she muttered, smirking. Korn grunted, "Barely. Wood Qi's drained." Vira's orbs wavered, her voice hoarse. "We're not doing that again."
The trek back was hell—curse crushing me, wounds screaming. Korn's vines and Vira's mists kept us moving, healing gashes and frostbite. I rigged one last prank—slipping a Glowvine bulb into Zephyr's cloak. Outside Crestmoore, it burst, pink powder coating him. "Perverted Elf!" he roared, but laughed, coughing blood.
At the Alchemy Guild, healers swarmed, thawing Bera, Tira, Lila. I collapsed again, ring heavy with loot, Varkoth hissing, "Father, we triumph." My girls were safe, but the cost—my team, battered, bloodied, but alive—burned worse than the curse.