Floating Islands: SSS Gacha Lord-Chapter 64 - The Dungeon Boss

The thunderous rumble of countless pounding footsteps shook the air. Was it hundreds, or thousands of monsters storming across the desert?

They surged like a living tide, kicking up clouds of dust that veiled their forms in a dense, shifting haze. Only fleeting glimpses of clawed limbs and glowing eyes broke through the sandstorm.

Their roars blended with the relentless drumbeat of their stampede, forming a chaotic wall of sound that crushed every thought. And then, gunfire. Sharp, rapid bursts rang out, tat-tat-tat-tat! Cutting through the din, followed by earth-splitting explosions, BOOM! KA-BOOM!

Columns of sand and rock shot skyward as the battlefield trembled.

A lizard-like creature broke ahead of the pack, sprinting wildly, its hide shredded by a barrage of bullets. It shrieked in agony, but didn’t make it far. Within seconds, it was crushed underfoot by the unstoppable horde charging behind it.

The explosions came faster, KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM! Ripping through the lines of monsters, tearing limbs, flinging bodies, but still they advanced.

The city’s outer defenses loomed ahead: the towering walls of the Dune Bastion, pride of the Saharan Empire.

Atop the fortifications, automated turrets whirred and lit up, rat-tat-tat-tat! Unleashing sheets of bullets in sweeping arcs. Alongside them, enormous cannons bellowed, THOOM! Each shot firing explosive shells that burst with terrifying force, rocking the desert with fire and shockwaves.

But the monsters didn’t slow. If anything, they grew more ferocious. Shrill, guttural screams pierced the haze as they hurled themselves against the walls, crashing into the stone with such force it trembled. Some began to claw, others to climb, clawing for any grip they could find, intent on bringing the wall down, or surging over it.

Everyone watching, whether from the safety of their homes, through glowing television screens, or from the city streets frozen in stunned silence.

Of course, they trusted in their city’s strength. In the brilliance of its engineering. After all, wasn’t it said to possess the most advanced technology on all of New Earth? Yes, of course it was! That belief had been drilled into them for generations.

But those monsters... those things, were something else entirely. Could the fallen awakeners truly have stepped into a dungeon teeming with such savage and overwhelming numbers?

And if they had... had every last one of them really perished? Wiped out without even managing to clear the dungeon?

The people should have been mourning those brave souls. They had fought for the safety of all, given their lives to hold the line. But instead, their deaths had been eclipsed by fear, by the desperate hope that the threat outside the walls could be stopped.

They needed that normal life. To work. To earn. To keep roofs over their heads, food on their tables, and their children safely in school, dreaming of brighter futures. Stability was everything, and right now, it hung by a thread.

On the broadcast, the battle raged on.

Hundreds of Dune Phantoms streaked across the battlefield, the Empire’s sleek, jet-black hover bikes. Perched on them were Saharan soldiers wielding massive hand cannons, each shot bursting, BOOM! BOOM! With explosive force.

It wasn’t enough.

Not by a long shot.

The sheer number of monsters, the ferocity of their assault, it was clear. They didn’t just need technology. They needed more power. More fire. More high-level awakeners.

Without them... this battle might already be lost.

Edrik sighed as he continued watching the battlefield unfold on the café’s screen.

"What do you think, Edrik?" Atlas asked quietly.

"Do they not have high-level awakeners to handle this?"

Just then, the waiter approached the table, placing down a refill and casually joining the conversation.

"There aren’t many high-level awakeners to begin with," he said. "And those that exist are stretched thin across the continent. They’re assigned all over, some to dungeon expeditions, others hired as private security or mercenaries for powerful Lords. As for the ones who were sent to clear this dungeon..."

"Abyss Dungeon," Edrik cut in smoothly.

"Oh?" The waiter blinked. "It’s called an Abyss Dungeon? I thought Raid Dungeons were the highest classification?"

"This scale of monster wave?" Edrik said with certainty. "Only an Abyss Dungeon could produce something like this."

The waiter gave a slow nod, absorbing the information. Then he glanced at the screen again and added, "But... it does seem like their numbers are finally thinning a little..."

Edrik gave a faint, bitter smile. "That’s because we haven’t seen the dungeon boss yet."

The waiter stiffened slightly, his brow furrowed. "The dungeon boss... I hadn’t thought about that."

"What kind of boss would emerge from a dungeon with monsters like these?" Atlas asked.

But Edrik hesitated. His expression grew unreadable, and he didn’t answer right away. That silence said more than words could.

The waiter tilted his head toward Edrik. "You seem to know quite a bit about these things, sir," he said with a small, respectful bow. "You wouldn’t happen to have the strength to assist, would you? I imagine the Empire would offer quite a handsome reward for someone who could help push back against this."

Atlas offered a wry smile at the waiter’s comment. Edrik and the others had faced horrors like this before. But none of them had regained their full strength yet. Not enough to make a real difference.

His thoughts drifted, only to be pulled back when he noticed Morganna. She had quietly finished their entire order without a word and now sat, her eyes locked on the screen.

Realizing this battle wasn’t ending anytime soon, Atlas raised a hand and signaled for more food. They were going to be here a while.

"Abyss Dungeons usually span massive areas," Edrik began. "It’s one of the reasons they take so long to clear. Every corridor, every chamber could hide something deadly."

Both Atlas and the waiter turned to him, listening closely.

"The monster population is huge," he continued. "But normally, they’re scattered. Explorers can clear them gradually. It’s nothing like what happens during a Dungeon Break, where everything bursts out at once."

Atlas gave a slow nod, digesting the information. "What about the dungeon boss?" he asked. "Is it just one? Or could there be more?"

"Usually one," Edrik replied. "But in Abyss Dungeons, it’s not rare to see two. Sometimes even three or more."

Atlas let out a low breath.

Damn.

And yet, Atlas mused, even with all the chaos unfolding outside, this still wasn’t on the same level as the high-grade beasts Karian and Lyrassa had once described from their own battles. That thought brought him a strange kind of comfort... If this wasn’t the worst it could get, what truly lay beyond?

"Beastkin shouldn’t even be allowed in this café!"

The sudden outburst shattered the moment. A customer stood abruptly, slamming their hands on the table. They stormed out, throwing the door open so hard it bounced against the wall. freewebnøvel.coɱ

Silence followed.

The waiter offered a bitter smile and turned toward Atlas and Kurogasa, bowing low with genuine regret. "My deepest apologies for that unpleasantness, my friends," he said sincerely.

"Nah, I get it," Atlas replied, giving a slight nod. "It’s not your fault."

Kurogasa stood then. He bowed toward the waiter, then toward Atlas. "My—"

But Atlas cut him off before he could finish the word.

"Yes, yes. You want to buy something outside?"

"Yes... I need to take care of something," Kurogasa answered simply, then turned and exited the café.

Atlas watched him go, his expression unreadable. But inside, he sighed.

Despite having existed for more than 1,500 years, beastkin were still regarded by many as a "strange species," as though their presence on New Earth had never truly been normalized.

True, some beastkin had risen through the ranks of the union. But for those who didn’t shine as brightly, or whose roles were deemed too "common," the reality was far harsher.

To the eyes of the ignorant, beastkin were still animals. And just like animals, society sorted them, some into categories of cuteness, deemed worthy of affection or treated like novelty pets. Others, unfortunately, were pushed into darker stereotypes: pests, vermin, things to be avoided or removed.

This stigma clung hardest to Kurogasa.

A Rat Beastkin. No matter how rational or fair a person claimed to be, the word rat carried centuries of filth, disease, and revulsion in its wake. It was an image not easily erased.

Yes Kurogasa defied those stereotypes entirely. He was clean, calm, and perhaps the most composed of all Atlas’s subordinates.

Suddenly, an earthquake.

THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!

The entire café shook. The abrupt chaos jolted Atlas from his thoughts. He gripped the edge of his chair, steadying himself as the tremors rumbled through the walls. Then his eyes snapped back to the screen.

"What the hell is that?!"

The sudden chaos snapped Atlas out of his thoughts, and he grabbed onto his chair for stability. His gaze darted back to the screen.

"What... What is that?!"

A massive what? Godzilla? Wait... it looked like a giant lizard, slamming into the Dune Bastion with earth-shaking force!

The dungeon boss?!

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