I WAS Humanity's HOPE-Chapter 32: Flickering Lights

The instant Richard emerged on the other side of the portal, he felt a rush of cold air sting his cheeks.

The corridor was wider and gloomier than the usual E-Rank fare—walls slick with dark moisture, the flickering mage-lights mounted at intervals flickering with odd, inky undertones. No wonder the seniors were milling about with uncertain frowns.

Before anyone noticed, Richard slid his Mirror Daggers into his inventory. A quick flicker of his hand, subtle as a sigh, and they were gone. Too fast for prying eyes, and luckily, no one was watching him anyway.

By the time anyone turned back to see him, Richard stood there as if he’d never brandished a blade in his life.

"Right," he said aloud, in a calm, low voice that nevertheless carried through the tension. "We’ve got a bit of a situation."

Nadia, eyes wide, edged closer.

Adrian, who was front and centre, shot Richard a contemptuous glare. "Situation? What are you talking about?"

Richard met his gaze evenly. "The portal just turned black. No one can leave. And no one can get in to rescue us, either."

A weighted silence descended.

Oren and Trevor exchanged alarmed looks. Anne bit her lip while James huffed dismissively, as though refusing to be impressed by anything Richard had to say.

Richard felt a hand touching his elbow, Nadia’s hand.

Adrian let out a barking laugh. "Don’t be ridiculous. It was an E-Rank dungeon not two minutes ago—"

Without waiting for an invitation, he spun on his heel and marched back to the portal.

At first glance, it looked like a swirling purple mirror, shimmering faintly in the low light. Adrian stretched out a hand to it, presumably to stride through in heroic—*more like, idiotic—*fashion.

Instead, he crashed into an invisible barrier with a thud, nearly bouncing off it. His wand clattered to the ground.

A collective flinch rippled through the hunters, and Richard had to consciously repress a smile.

Adrian’s class stared, jaws slack, as he recovered himself with a deep flush.

Richard sighed, rolling his eyes. "Told you."

The corridor rang with an uncomfortable hush.

Oren shuffled closer to Trevor, and Anne just gawked at Adrian’s reddening face.

Huh. Is Anne holding Trev’s hand?

James folded his arms, eyes flicking to Richard and then away again.

A look to his left told Richard that Nadia merely pursed her lips, her expression grim.

Adrian snatched up his wand. "R-right," he declared, hastily smoothing his hair.

"So it’s... locked. Clearly a Black Dungeon. We’ll just have to push on and find the Boss of this place. We can clear it without any help, and leave!" His tone wavered at the last word, but he continued briskly, hoping no one noticed. "Anyway, the senior class is in charge. And that means I am in charge."

He gestured theatrically at Richard’s class. "That includes you, Blackwood, and your little band of friends. Stick with me, and you might yet live to see daylight again."

Richard arched a brow, wanting to dismiss Adrian outright, particularly mentioning the library incident and how the boy crumpled like paper.

But behind Adrian stood several of his senior classmates, huddled together, seeking direction. His classmates, too, needed some kind of structure; they were all staring at Richard and Adrian as if they were referees in some bizarre duel.

Sighing, Richard forced a nod.

"Fine. Lead on."

Then, lowering his voice so that only Trevor, Oren, Nadia, and Anne could hear, he added, "Stay close to me. No matter what that puffed-up peacock spouts."

James snorted audibly behind them, but Richard ignored it.

The corridor stretched ahead in an endless gloom, and the lights above them kept flickering.

Something about their heartbeat-like rhythm made Richard’s skin prickle.

Adrian cleared his throat. "Senior group, take point. Juniors, follow behind. No wandering. No silly heroics, understood?"

Oren, trembling a little, shot a questioning glance at Richard.

Richard offered a brief, reassuring nod.

They would follow for now. If an unknown horror lurked around the next bend, Richard preferred to try to chew on Adrian first rather than on his mates.

But I won’t let it get that far, now, will I? I’m humanity’s hope after all...

And so they ventured deeper into the black corridor, footsteps echoing on the cold stone.

I just have to hope that the Dungeon’s rank didn’t change by much, if it did. I wonder why no one else mentioned that.

They pressed on through the dim corridor, and as the group rounded a bend, a sharp gasp escaped Anne’s lips.

Ahead of them lay several twisted shapes—dead Craven Skulkers, each sprawled in a dark pool of congealed blood and faintly shimmering entrails.

By the look of things, these creatures had been dispatched quickly. They bore the distinctive scorch marks and clean cuts.

Richard’s classmates behind him hesitated.

Oren’s face paled, and Trevor grimaced at the metallic tang in the air.

Nadia’s fingers tightened around Richard’s sleeve as they navigated between the bodies, careful not to step on any body part.

For once, even James seemed taken aback, though he tried to mask it with an irritated scowl.

"I suppose our instructors did indeed clear the entrance," Adrian proclaimed, tossing his head with an air of false composure.

He was trying to sound nonchalant, but there was a clear tremor in his voice.

Maybe the prick finally realised that there may be something other than Craven Skulkers inside this place.

The flickering light danced across the corridor, making everyone’s shadows stretch and shiver against the grimy walls.

Something’s not quite right.

Richard crouched by one of the corpses, eyeing the black, twisted muzzle of the Skulker. No sign of rot, no unusual symbols carved into their bodies.

Nothing out of place, he thought, rising again.

If not for the foreboding feeling in his gut, Richard might have believed they were still dealing with a standard, albeit closed-off, Dungeon.

They pressed on.

The corridor remained lit, albeit erratically, as if the lights themselves were unnerved.

Richard half-expected everything to plunge into darkness any moment, but the glow persisted, painting the walls in sickly purples and greys.

A short while later, the group spotted movement up ahead—a lone Craven Skulker skulking about on all fours, gorging itself on what looked to be a dead body of its kind.

The creature was smaller than most, lanky-limbed with that greasy, furless hide typical of its species. At the approaching footfalls, it froze and lifted its milky eyes towards them.

"There!" Adrian declared, his voice triumphant.

With exaggerated precision, he raised his wand, face twisting into a self-satisfied grin.

A shimmering sphere of pale-blue flame flickered into being at its tip. The seniors behind him looked on with a mixture of eagerness and relief that their de facto leader was taking action.

High E-Rank fireball, Richard noted absently, watching the incantation flare to life. Not half bad.

In a swift motion, Adrian unleashed the blue fireball. It streaked towards the Skulker and slammed into its torso, blasting the creature off its feet in a brief explosion of heat and singed flesh.

The Skulker gave one feeble twitch before collapsing in a smoking heap.

Adrian let out a bark of laughter, flipping his wand in his hand before tucking it away with a smug expression. "That’ll show it," he proclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Didn’t even stand a chance."

Behind him, a few seniors clapped nervously. The juniors, meanwhile, looked equal parts impressed and uneasy.

Trevor let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, while Oren dipped his gaze, frowning at the corpse.

Richard bit back a sarcastic remark.

"All right," Adrian announced, grinning at the group. "That’s what happens when you pay attention in class and practise real magic, novices."

Richard rolled his eyes, stepping around the still-smoking carcass.

Adrian’s triumphant grin vanished when half a dozen Craven Skulkers lunged from the gloom, their claws scraping the stone floor.

Two pounced straight at him, shrieking with feral hunger.

He jerked aside just in time, narrowly avoiding a talon that brushed the hem of his robe.

Another streak of blue flame burst from his wand, striking one Skulker square in the chest and taking it down.

The rest scattered, forming a ragged ring around the group.

Senior apprentices hurriedly stepped in.

Twin fireballs roared to life in the hands of a freckled lad, forcing two Skulkers back.

A third creature charged at a tall girl, Ava Derek, who flicked her wand and conjured an ice spike that impaled its bony torso with a crack.

Peter Nott, caught by surprise, raised his arm too late.

A Skulker’s claw raked across his forearm, drawing a thin line of blood.

He staggered backwards with a hiss of pain and looked wide-eyed at the lunging monster.

Before the monster could press its advantage, it froze, its eyes going wide.

A moment later, its head toppled from its shoulders in one clean slice. Richard stood behind it, dagger in hand, gaze cold and unyielding.

Silence fell, broken only by the ragged breathing of the survivors.

What the fuck is everyone doing?

Richard glanced at his sides, making sure his classmates were fine and behind the line of attack.

When he made sure of their safety, he turned his attention to the remaining monsters.

Thankfully, the senior group managed to find their senses, forming a more coordinated defence.