"Move your feet, leech. If my mana drops below fifty percent again, I will leave you for the goblins."

Kaelen gritted his teeth. The heavy leather rucksack of monster cores dug into his bruised shoulders.

"I said move it, Vance!" Roderick, the Silver-rank party leader, slammed the flat of his broadsword against the cavern wall.

"I’m keeping up," Kaelen muttered.

"Barely," sneered Gael. The elemental mage did not even bother to look back. "Honestly, Roderick, why did the Church assign us a Level 1 Mana Transfusionist? He is practically a corpse dragging dead weight."

"Because a living battery saves us buying expensive mana potions, Gael," Roderick replied with a harsh laugh. "Now shut up and keep your light spell steady. We are descending into the third floor."

Kaelen kept his eyes on the muddy boots of the knights ahead of him. In the eyes of the Holy Church and society, he was worthless. He wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t a true support mage. His only system skill involved draining his own physical life force to replenish the mana of his betters.

For three brutal years, Kaelen had been trapped in this cycle.

Gael suddenly stopped walking and snapped his fingers. "I need a top-up, leech. This damp hole is draining my reserves faster than usual."

"My health is low," Kaelen stated, his voice hoarse. "If I transfer more right now, I might pass out. At least let me drink a minor health potion."

"Did I ask for a medical report?" Gael turned around, grabbing Kaelen by his frayed collar and shoving him hard against the jagged stone wall. "Do you think we waste gold on trash classes? Do it. Or I will let Lyra practice her firebolts on your legs."

Lyra, the second mage of the party, giggled from the back of the formation. "I do need the target practice."

Kaelen swallowed his pride. He placed his blistered hand against the glowing blue sigil etched into Gael’s robes.

’Activate Mana Transfusion,’ Kaelen commanded in his mind.

A pale light flared from his palm. The physical sensation was agonizing, like a frozen hook pulling his soul outward. His stamina and bodily warmth were aggressively siphoned away. Kaelen gasped, his knees buckling under a sudden wave of severe nausea.

[System Alert. Mana Transfusion successful. User sacrificed 150 Health Points. Target gained 150 Mana Points.]

[System Alert. User Health is currently critically low. Warning. Prolonged use may result in permanent organ failure or death.]

Kaelen ignored the floating blue text. He pulled his trembling hand away.

"Ah, much better," Gael sighed, rolling his shoulders as fresh magical energy flared around him. "See? You aren’t completely useless after all."

"Quiet down, all of you," Roderick barked, his tone suddenly serious. "We are entering the Abyssal Chasm. The corruption miasma is thick down here. Mages, charge your flares."

"Lighting up," Lyra chanted. A glowing sphere of white holy magic materialized above her staff.

The cavern opened into a sprawling underground chamber. A thick, sickeningly sweet purple mist rolled out from the darkness, clinging to their ankles.

A guttural, clicking roar suddenly echoed from the ceiling. The temperature instantly dropped below freezing.

"What was that?" Lyra whispered, her voice trembling.

"Formation!" Roderick screamed, drawing his broadsword. "Defensive formation now!"

A monstrosity dropped from the darkness above. It was the size of a carriage, constructed entirely of necrotic flesh and jagged obsidian armor. Eight scythe-like appendages tore through the air. A cluster of hateful purple eyes locked directly onto the mages.

[System Warning. High-Threat Entity Detected. Mutated Abyssal Crawler. Estimated Level: 45.]

"Level forty-five?" Lyra shrieked. "We are only level thirty! Roderick, we cannot fight a mutated beast!"

"Hold the line and cast your spells!" Roderick yelled, raising his heavy shield.

Before Lyra could even lift her staff, the Crawler unhinged its massive mandibles. It spat a glob of highly pressurized, corrosive purple venom directly at the party.

"Gael, look out!"

The venom hit the stone floor beside the mage. The splash caught the edge of Gael’s robes.

"My leg! It’s burning through my leg!" Gael screamed.

He collapsed to the floor, dropping his staff. In less than a second, the holy fabric melted into toxic slag, eating straight through his flesh down to the bone.

The sheer terror of facing a high-level beast completely shattered the party’s fragile courage.

"I’m not dying down here!" Lyra panicked. She abandoned her spell, turned on her heel, and sprinted back toward the stairs.

"Lyra, wait! Heal me!" Gael begged from the floor, clutching his ruined leg.

She did not look back.

Roderick’s eyes went wide. The heavily armored knight took three rapid steps backward, his hands shaking violently on the hilt of his sword.

The beast let out another clicking screech. Its obsidian legs tensed like springs, preparing to pounce on the wounded mage.

"Roderick, help me!" Gael cried out, blood pooling beneath him.

"I’m the vanguard! I have to survive to report this to the Church!" Roderick stammered.

The knight scrambled backward. As he retreated, his terrified eyes locked onto Kaelen.

’No,’ Kaelen thought, his blood running cold. He knew that look.

Roderick lunged forward and grabbed Kaelen by his tattered shirt.

"What are you doing?" Kaelen choked.

"Buy us time, leech!" Roderick yelled at the top of his lungs.

With a desperate grunt of effort, the knight swung his arms, hurling Kaelen bodily forward. He threw him directly into the monster’s path.

Without waiting to see if it worked, Roderick turned and sprinted toward the exit, leaving both of his comrades behind.

Kaelen hit the ground hard. The heavy rucksack slammed into his spine, knocking the breath completely out of his lungs. He slid across the abrasive stone, tasting blood and toxic purple mist.

He forced his head up.

The beast was looming directly over him. Its monstrous jaws dripped with hissing acid that melted the stone inches from Kaelen’s face.

’Three years,’ Kaelen thought bitterly. ’Three years of giving up my life for them, just to die as human bait.’

The Abyssal Crawler screeched and lunged downward.

Driven by a violent surge of primal survival instinct, Kaelen threw his weight to the side and rolled hard to the right.

The monster’s jaws smashed into the solid stone floor exactly where Kaelen’s head had been a millisecond ago.

The explosive force of the impact sent brutal shockwaves rippling through the already fragile, acid-weakened floor. Deep cracks erupted across the stone beneath Kaelen’s hands.

The sound was like a thunderclap.

Before the Crawler could raise its head for a second strike, the ruined ground gave way.

The floor collapsed.

Kaelen felt the stomach-dropping sensation of complete weightlessness. The enraged screams of the monster faded above him. The cold air rushed past his face as he plummeted deeper into the dark, uncharted depths of the chasm.