Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 68: [The Heir of Thornspine 2] The Fang Beneath the Vines

The doors groaned open, and the team stepped into a world where beauty had been strangled into horror.

This area had once been one of Thornspine Estate’s prized gardens—a sheltered paradise of rare blooms, flowing fountains, and carved stone paths.

Now it was nothing but a rotting, suffocating nightmare.

Thorned vines choked the shattered remains of marble benches and archways.

Pools of stagnant, blackened water glistened where ornamental fountains had collapsed.

The floor was a jagged patchwork of cracked stones, half-consumed by crawling roots that pulsed faintly with a sick, reddish glow.

Above, the skeletal framework of a shattered glass dome allowed only faint, mist-choked light to filter down, painting the room in eerie greens and grays.

At the far end, embedded in what once might have been a grand floral centerpiece, the Wildfang Node pulsed—a massive crimson orb, wrapped in black thorns and dripping viscous, sap-like ichor onto the dead earth below.

The Midboss arena was once a proud indoor luxury garden —but now it was nothing but a collapsed ruin.

The cracked marble floor was overtaken by snarling black roots that pulsed like veins under diseased skin.

Thorned pillars twisted toward the broken ceiling, and the walls wept black sap that dripped steadily into pools along the edges of the chamber.

The Wildfang Node glowed in the far end of the arena—a massive crimson orb, cradled in the shattered ribcage of what once might have been a hunting trophy.

The Deathsong permeated the air: the high, shrill wail clawed at their ears; the low, gut-churning drone vibrated through their bones; and the endless discordant whispers gnawed at their minds. The three choirs ebbed and flowed with an unnatural rhythm, stitching terror into the very walls.

And somewhere in the twisting shadows—movement.

The shifting vines twisted, and from the suffocating mist emerged the suggestion of something massive, something low and coiled. Thorned tendrils retracted into the earth as if clearing a path for the predator’s approach. The stagnant pools at the room’s edges shivered under unseen tremors. The Deathsong grew sharper, the high wail almost imperceptibly rising in pitch.

The Thistlecreep Marauder.

[Midboss Detected]

Name: Thistlecreep Marauder — "The Baron’s Fang"

Element: Nature (Venomous Panther Mutation)

Skills:

Tangle Leap: Disappears into nearby vines and reappears above the farthest target, pouncing with a bleed combo.

Ivybrand Fangs: Bites target, applying Toxin Tag. Summons waves of plant monsters to attack poisoned players.

Bloomstep Ambush: Leaves petal trails on the ground. Following them triggers thorn traps and stagger effects.

It stalked around them, nearly invisible against the writhing vines. Its panther-like form rippled with muscle and thorn, petals blooming sickly across its back. It didn’t roar. It slithered. It snapped its fanged jaws with a soft click-click-click, like a warning given only to prey that wouldn’t understand it anyway.

Raven’s mind ticked through tactics fast.

"Seneschal. Save your roots unless it’s critical. Heal when bleed stacks hit. Stun only if someone’s about to fall," Raven ordered calmly.

"Phantom, distort sightlines. Root-Soul, prep the trap."

The team moved.

Phantom Seer faded into a blur, Haunting Mirage rippling outward—the walls themselves seemed to shimmer and split into confusing duplicates. Root-Soul Ascendant slammed her staff into the ground, summoning a Spitgrowth Sentinel—the form twisted rapidly, stabilizing into a Defender type, shielded with thorns.

The Defender Sentinel shuddered as it solidified—an armored mass of bark and thorn. It let out a low, resonant roar and charged straight into the heart of the illusion field, making itself the most visible and aggressive target.

The Thistlecreep Marauder hesitated for a heartbeat—its instincts confused by the distorted landscape and the loud, thorn-clad intruder.

It struck first at the Sentinel, raking claws across its brambled hide. The impact shuddered through the ground, and fragments of armored bark sprayed outward.

The Sentinel staggered but held its ground, absorbing two full strikes—buying the team precious seconds to reposition.

Then, with a splintering crack, the Defender Sentinel collapsed into a heap of rotted wood and thorns.

But its sacrifice had worked.

The Marauder’s focus shifted—and Root-Soul was already moving out of its lethal path.

Raven flexed his Dominion Chain, feeling its weight. Twin daggers or grappling whip—adapt as needed.

The Thistlecreep Marauder struck first.

As it moved, the surrounding vines shuddered, loose leaves scattering violently across the cracked marble. Each leap sent ripples through the pools of black water at the edges of the arena, distorting the twisted reflections overhead. The thorned pillars creaked ominously, fragments of brittle bark raining down with every heavy impact.

It melted into the vine-walls, vanishing with a hiss.

Tangle Leap.

Raven caught the motion—"Root-Soul, MOVE!"

The Marauder reappeared above her, pouncing, claws extended. Root-Soul leapt aside—barely—taking a glancing slash instead of a full-body tackle. Her boots skidded across the cracked marble, thorns tearing shallow gouges into her bark-lined armor. She hissed through clenched teeth, the bleed icon flashing urgently above her head as crimson seeped through split vine-flesh. Bleed icons flared above her.

Duskrunner growled and surged forward, flanking the beast as it landed. Alpha’s Wrath already beginning to hum through his strikes.

Ironbark Seneschal held position, eyes narrowed. His hands twitched toward the earth—but he held back. The bleeding wasn’t stacking fast enough yet. Raven’s earlier order held firm: save it for when it mattered. Only when Root-Soul’s bleed tick began spiking did he channel healing—Rite of the Root flaring to stabilize her.

The Marauder snarled low, pacing.

"You bleed... easier," it rasped—the words malformed, a mimicry learned from forgotten kills.

The team tightened their formation.

Phantom Seer layered illusions, warping the Marauder’s targeting. Raven dashed into position, using his Dominion Chain to grapple onto a hanging root and swing into a brutal mid-air strike against the Marauder’s flank.

The Wildfang Node at the far end pulsed with each blow—and with every pulse, faint bursts of pollen erupted from the cracked floor, swirling into hazy clouds that made the air shimmer and sting the lungs. The Deathsong subtly shifted. Every time the Marauder took damage, the Choirs momentarily spiked in volume—a chorus of furious shrieks and guttural roars that made the vines tremble and the thorned growths clutch at the air like grasping claws.

—the Deathsong subtly shifting. Every time the Marauder took damage, the Choirs momentarily spiked in volume—a chorus of furious shrieks and guttural roars that made the vines tremble.

At 70% health, the Marauder hissed and dove back into the undergrowth. As it vanished, the walls themselves seemed to twitch, roots coiling tighter around broken pillars. The black pools churned, sending out silent, trembling waves across the battlefield.

Ivybrand Fangs.

It struck Raven—deep fangs sinking into his armor—and a new poison icon flared. Around the arena, plant monsters—Sporelings and Thornlings—began to sprout.

"Heal up. Hold formation," Raven snapped, grimacing as the poison worked into his veins.

Seneschal’s Rite of the Root pulsed stronger, thickening around them like a shield of ancient green. Still, Raven could feel the slow seep of poison trying to chew through his stamina, a gnawing itch beneath his skin. His mind snapped coldly to survival calculations—how much longer before the field collapsed under the toxin pressure? How fast were the Sporelings adapting to the arena’s corruption?

Duskrunner lunged through the poison fields, clearing Thornlings with savage, lightning-fast strikes. Phantom Seer used Mind Shatter to scramble the Sporelings’ aim.

Root-Soul Ascendant and her Defender Sentinel boxed in the Marauder, forcing it toward Raven.

The Marauder snarled, sensing the shift—it circled harder, the high-pitched choir shrieking along with its rage.

Without warning, petals began to slough off the Marauder’s body—each one gleaming wet and dark, unnatural. They floated down lazily at first, then thickened into a rain of thorns.

Bloomstep Ambush.

A trail of petals scattered across the floor, curling into thorny traps wherever they landed. Phantom Seer, shifting too close while casting illusions, stepped into a blooming patch—and the floor erupted.

Vines lashed around her ankles, yanking her downward. A thorn snare wrapped her waist, pinning her midair like a broken marionette. The DoT icon flared crimson over her head—Severe Bleeding.

The Deathsong swelled—the high choir shrieked in triumph.

Raven snapped an order without hesitation.

"Seneschal, heal! Full cast—clear the petals!"

Ironbark Seneschal thrust his hands into the rotting earth. The Rite of the Root pulsed outward—not just a healing bloom, but a wave of restorative force strong enough to dispel the ambient corruption. Phantom Seer’s bleeding wounds closed instantly, and the vines binding her shriveled into black dust. Across the battlefield, stray petals withered and collapsed into ash, the environmental debuff purged by the ritual’s surge.

The Deathsong faltered slightly, the manor itself recoiling from the restored strength.

Phantom Seer dropped lightly to the ground, ghostlike, and gave a quick nod before slipping back into the mist.

Then, as Seneschal began channeling, the very ground responded—the roots twitched violently, and thorn clusters above cracked open, raining shards of dead leaves and sap down upon them.

Growth Denial Slam.

First impact—thorns exploded outward, stunning two Sporelings. The shockwave tore into the rotten undergrowth, sending dead roots and splintered marble flying like shrapnel. Distant thorn pillars, too brittle to withstand the force, snapped and collapsed in the mist, the noise echoing like breaking bones through the dome.

Second impact—thorns exploded outward, stunning two Sporelings. The shockwave tore into the rotten undergrowth, sending dead roots and splintered marble flying like shrapnel. Distant thorn pillars, too brittle to withstand the force, snapped and collapsed in the mist, the noise echoing like breaking bones through the dome.

The Marauder roared—a low, bubbling sound—and dropped into a crouch, muscles coiling.

It locked its feral eyes onto Ironbark Seneschal.

Tangle Leap.

Raven saw the shift—the twitch of muscle, the gathering power.

In a blink, he snapped his Dominion Chain forward, trying to intercept.

The twin daggers at its tips flashed—then missed as the Marauder melted into a blur of motion.

"Move!" Raven barked—but Seneschal remained locked in place, still mid-channeling the devastating Growth Denial Slam, his body anchored by the very roots he commanded, and Duskrunner was still repositioning.

Root-Soul reacted the fastest—her staff slammed into the cracked marble.

Despite everything, she moved without hesitation—not for herself, but to shield the one she once called traitor. Old grudges meant nothing if he bled under her watch.

Bark Arena Entombment answered her call: thorn pillars surged across the arena, erupting chaotically from the cracked marble. One thick column surged upward directly between Seneschal and the incoming beast, a jagged shield of thorned wood blocking the Marauder’s lethal path for a critical moment.

One pillar caught the Marauder mid-flight—a brutal collision that sent the creature spiraling off its intended path.

Snarling, claws scrabbling for purchase, the Marauder twisted—redirecting itself midair.

Its burning gaze locked onto Root-Soul instead. freewebnσvel.cøm

Still caught mid-cast, she couldn’t dodge in time.

The Marauder lunged.

Seneschal moved first.

His hands plunged into the bloodied soil—Root Trial Lattice answered instantly. Thick roots burst from the earth, ensnaring the Marauder’s hind legs mid-pounce.

The beast slammed hard into the marble, snarling in rage as the ground itself seemed to bind it.

Ironbark’s voice rumbled low across the chaos:

"You once called me traitor," Ironbark rumbled, steady as the earth. "But I have never forgotten my vow to the Root-Soul. My shield remains yours, even now.""

For a heartbeat, Root-Soul met his gaze across the battlefield.

Her vines loosened slightly, a silent acknowledgment passing between them—not forgiveness, but the first crack in the ice.

Duskrunner and Raven seized the window—flashes of chain and fang driving into the trapped Marauder.

The Marauder screamed—and the Choirs collapsed into a single low droning hum.

It shook itself free, petals scattering like blood across the arena floor.

It was entering its final enrage phase.

Raven narrowed his eyes behind the Dominion Chain.

"Phase two," he muttered. "Stay sharp."

The Wildfang Node’s heartbeat quickened—and the true fight was about to begin.

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