My Overpowered Bunny Girls

"This heat is cooking us alive!" Garrett yelled over the roar of the magma. Sweat poured down his face, and Red was visibly distressed, its fleece rapidly softening and failing to lock into armor. "Red can’t hold the vanguard in this! I’m compromised!"

"Pull back to the midline!" Nathan ordered without hesitation. "Mirko, take the front! Derek—your Salamander was built for this environment! Take the spearhead!"

Derek didn’t argue. He barked a command, and his Salamander roared, surging forward. The beast actively absorbed the ambient heat of the room, growing larger and more vicious as it slammed into a Forge Drake. The two titans collided in a blinding shockwave of fire and scale, snapping jaws and tearing at heavy armor. Derek moved flawlessly in his summon’s shadow, exploiting the openings.

Mirko took the second Drake head-on. She caught a stream of molten slag directly on [Impenetrable Fortress], the emerald magic hissing violently into heavy steam.

"Liquid metal!" Mirko barked, grinning fiercely through the heat haze. "Points for originality, but you lack execution!"

She sidestepped a lunging bite, carving an [Aegis Strike] deep into the Drake’s snout. The Frost Golem immediately followed up, burying its icy fists into the Drake’s flank. The catastrophic temperature differential—sub-zero ice against a living furnace—caused the beast’s scales to violently shatter and splinter like cheap glass.

Elise pushed through the oppressive heat, raising Aurora’s Heart. The staff’s light was visibly struggling, but she forced the mana through. [Glacial Lance] materialized and shot forward, punching straight down the throat of a third Forge Drake just as it opened its maw to fire. The molten slag violently cooled and hardened inside the beast’s throat, choking it on its own attack. The Silver Drake mages capitalized, shattering its skull with a volley of kinetic blasts.

Nathan managed the battlefield from the high ground, keeping his party perfectly synchronized with Goldcrest to prevent the Drakes from pincer-attacking.

When the last Forge Drake finally bled out across an obsidian anvil, the army took a collective, gasping breath.

Floor 8 was clear.

Nathan checked his wrist. Forty percent. The Leyline Ring was hot to the touch, working overtime to feed him. The compression charms were burning out faster than he’d anticipated. The heavy, suffocating ceiling of his F-Rank aptitude was pressing down on his chest.

Master, Mirko’s voice was uncharacteristically serious in his mind. Your mana pressure is dropping rapidly. The environment is taxing your equipment.

I’m aware. I’m throttling my output. We’re almost to the end.

See that you do. I refuse to carry your unconscious body out of a second Elite Tower. It damages our brand.

You carried me out of the Whispering Dark.

That was entirely undignified for the both of us.

Floor 9 was a blasphemous temple of black stone and gold.

The circular chamber was heavily detailed with ancient, sprawling murals—dragons blotting out the sky, entire kingdoms burning to ash, and a jagged obsidian throne sitting at the center of the apocalypse. At the heart of the room stood an altar of volcanic glass, and waiting before it was the Dragon Priest.

It was a Lizardman of profound, withered age, its scales faded to a sickly pale gold. It wore heavy, ornate robes stitched with glowing draconic runes, and it leaned heavily on a staff of twisted obsidian that sparked with volatile magic.

"Trespassers," the Priest hissed, its voice echoing like the grinding of tectonic plates. "You have defiled the sanctum. You will progress no further. The Last King awaits, and he will crack your bones for marrow."

The Priest slammed the base of its staff against the glass altar.

Massive pillars of golden fire erupted across the temple floor, violently splitting the vanguard. From the blinding flames emerged a fresh wave of horrors—Lizardmen, Wyverns, and a hulking terrestrial Drake, all summoned directly from the Tower’s reserves.

"Ignore the summons! Focus the Priest!" Nathan yelled, fighting through the blistering heat. "Sever the head and the body dies!"

The army splintered. Silver Drake and Red Dragon locked down the summoned wave, turning the temple into a brutal, grinding meat grinder to buy the assault team time.

Mirko and Derek’s Salamander charged the altar. The Priest swept its staff in a lazy arc, erecting a massive wall of golden fire. The Salamander met it head-on, unleashing its own inferno. The two flames violently clashed, filling the temple with a blinding, roaring shockwave of thermal energy.

Using the visual cover, Mirko triggered [Quick Reflex], blurring straight through the flames. She brought her heavy sword down in a lethal arc aimed directly at the Priest’s arm.

The Priest didn’t even flinch. It merely reached out, catching the razor-sharp edge of Mirko’s blade in its bare, scaled claw, stopping her momentum dead. "You possess strength, little Knight. But you lack weight."

"I have heard that before!" Mirko snarled, bearing down on the hilt. "It never ends well for the speaker!"

From the Priest’s shadow, Kuro stepped into the light. Relying on [Invisibility] to bypass the wards, she had slipped past the inferno unnoticed. [Blind] instantly wrapped the Priest’s ancient, burning eyes in absolute darkness.

The Priest hissed, its grip on Mirko’s blade loosening for a fraction of a second. It was all the time Kuro needed. [Assassinate] drove both shadow-forged daggers perfectly between the creature’s shoulder blades. Shink-Shink.

Elise capitalized immediately, funneling a massive surge of mana into Aurora’s Heart. [Glacial Lance] ripped across the temple and impaled the Priest through the chest. The absolute zero violently froze the creature’s ornate robes and shattered its internal mana channels, abruptly cutting off the golden fire. The summoned minions across the room instantly wavered and collapsed into ash, their tethers broken.

Nathan held his draw. The Capacitor plummeted—forty, thirty, twenty. The compression charms sparked, letting out a high-pitched whine.

THWOOOOOM.

The [Focus Shot] vaporized the distance, punching a clean silver hole through the Priest’s skull.

The ancient creature collapsed against the glass altar. Floor 9 was clear.

Floor 10 was a bridge built over infinity.

It was a terrifyingly narrow span of slick obsidian—barely wide enough for three Climbers to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. It stretched out over a bottomless chasm that radiated a blinding, pulsing golden light that synced perfectly with the Tower’s heartbeat. The air was razor-thin and tasted like copper.

Standing dead center on the bridge, guarding the massive threshold to Floor 11, were two Drak’thar Royal Guards.

They were colossal—ten feet of pure muscle and malice, heavily armored in gold plating inlaid with pulsing crimson runes. They wielded massive halberds that crackled with aggressive, ancient magic. They didn’t move. They simply stared at the approaching army, waiting for them to step into range.

"The architecture negates our numbers," Seraphine analyzed quickly. "If we rush, we get bottlenecked and cleaved. We fight them one at a time. We rotate the frontline every two minutes to prevent stamina burnout."

"Silver Drake initiates," Nathan agreed. "Celestial Peak will cycle in second. Red Dragon and Goldcrest, pour ranged fire over the shoulders of whoever has the vanguard."

The first Royal Guard stepped up as Silver Drake approached. Its halberd swept in a blinding horizontal arc that would have easily bisected a standard Climber. The lead tank caught it squarely on his heavy shield. CLANG. The kinetic shockwave sent him skidding backward across the obsidian, his boots smoking. His armored construct braced him from behind, absorbing the crushing follow-up blow.

"Rotate!" Seraphine commanded.

Nathan’s squad stepped up. Mirko triggered [Impenetrable Fortress] just in time to catch the Guard’s overhead strike. The emerald barrier violently buckled. "You have weight!" Mirko grunted, her knees bending slightly. "But I have stalled Iron Legionnaires! Your technique is painfully rigid!"

The Guard retaliated with a brutal thrust that cracked the barrier. Mirko was pushed back, but the Frost Golem stepped into the gap, burying its icy fists into the Guard’s ribs.

"Rotate!"

Derek Stone took the front, his heavy shield absorbing a punishing flurry of strikes. From behind his cover, the Salamander unleashed a relentless stream of fire directly into the Guard’s face, forcing the giant to raise its arms. Elise and the Silver Drake mages capitalized, peppering the Guard’s joints with ice to lock its armor in place.

Nathan drew his bow. The Capacitor was at a critical twenty percent. The compression charms were totally spent, completely inert in his pouch. The Leyline Ring was screaming in protest. He forced the draw, focusing entirely on the Guard’s exposed knee.

THWOOOOOM.

The arrow shattered the knee joint. The massive Guard violently stumbled. Mirko’s [Aegis Strike] tore across its chest, and the Frost Golem crushed its helmet. The first giant fell.

The second Royal Guard simply stepped over the corpse of its comrade and attacked with double the ferocity. The rotation ground on. Silver Drake. Celestial Peak. Red Dragon. Goldcrest. It was a grueling, agonizing war of attrition, fought on a bridge over a golden abyss.

When Nathan fired his final [Focus Shot]—held for only twenty seconds, pulling the absolute dregs of his mana reserves—it punched cleanly through the Guard’s visor. The giant swayed. Seraphine’s griffin ripped away its throat, and Torren’s axe cleaved its skull in half.

The bridge finally fell silent. Floor 10 was clear.

The primary assault group slowly gathered before the towering portal to Floor 11. The light bleeding from the threshold was a bruised, terrifying crimson, and the Tower’s heartbeat was so violent here it felt like an earthquake.

They had survived ten floors of an Elite Class monolith. They had suffered extractions. The Silver Drake tank from the bridge was nursing a fractured forearm, and several mages were completely tapped out. But they were alive, and the vanguard was intact.

Nathan leaned heavily on Moonlight, catching his breath. He looked over at Derek. The Goldcrest heir was quietly inspecting his Salamander’s scales, his expression calm and unreadable. The pale scar on his cheek caught the red light of the portal.

"Your squad held the left flank flawlessly through the entire sanctum," Nathan said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast cavern. "The Forge Drakes, the Priest, the bridge. You held the line."

Derek looked up. The old, entitled arrogance was still buried somewhere deep inside him, but it was fully leashed. "Your unit’s coordination is significantly better than it was at the Colosseum. The Knight buffering for the Golem, the Assassin exploiting the blind spots... you built a machine that actually works." He paused, adjusting his gauntlet. "You’ve come a long way, Cross."

"We both have."

Derek gave a single, firm nod. There was no smile, but the mutual respect was undeniable. "Floor 11. Whatever is waiting for us in the dark... we face it as a single unit. Goldcrest holds its position."

Nathan turned back to his party. Garrett, exhausted but resolute, resting on Volcan. Dillon, wiping sweat from his brow as Cloudy crackled with energy. Elise, her eyes sharp and calculating behind the glow of Aurora’s Heart. Mirko, bruised but radiating absolute pride, and Kuro, a silent, deadly shadow on his shoulder.

He looked at Seraphine, then Torren, and finally at the gathered, battered elites of the primary assault group.

"Let’s finish the climb," Nathan said.

Together, they stepped through the crimson light, and descended into the true depths of Drak’thar.

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