The first skeleton that came downstairs was met with a volley of bullets and arrows and soon turned into mana as it fell. All the students there, 18 of them, not counting Matthew, were extremely nervous. Some were shaking uncontrollably. They've never been in a position of life and death before.

That's when Matthew took point shouting orders for the warriors to form a line on his position. By now, he was already used to that eerie feeling of death looming over his head.

"Save your ammo! If somebody is shooting at a target, don't shoot it yourself. We don't know how many they are!" Matthew shouted organizing a line near the stairs.

Orpheu was behind with other students, those who were healers and workers and who had no combat skills whatsoever.

The elves were sitting still just observing. They were saving their mana for when the Dullahan showed up.

More skeletons started to appear coming down from the 2nd floor and being felled by much more conservative amount of ammunition. However, soon the amount of skeletons coming down was too much to quell them at the stairs.

Matthew noticed the students around him shake and take a step back. The line was going to fall before the fighting would even start. He then decided to step forward allowing the demonic mana to take hold of him again and, with only one arm, stop the advance of the horde of skeletons by himself.

Matthew was kicking, headbutting and slashing the skeletons in a wild frenzy. A smile crept onto his face and reason started to leave him while the demonic mana took more and more control of his emotions.

Seeing Matthew facing the horde alone emboldened the other students that stepped forward in a line to face the ones that passed through Matthew's frenzied barrage.

When armored skeletons, zombies and ghouls started to creep from the upper stairs, the fighting got harder. The student line had to take a step back. But Matthew was not paying attention to them anymore. He was too absorbed in his own battle. He was laughing loudly while decapitating ghouls and smashing skeleton skulls under his feet. His left eye shining bright red.

The other students who, at first, saw his charge forward as a sign of heroism, now looked at him like a dangerous man. A crazy person who would not distinguish friend from foe. And they could be right.

It was then that a wight, a flesh undead who was as smart as a living being and had the ability to drain the life force of creatures through touch, appeared. Wights were monsters that ranged from level 15 to 25 on that dungeon.

Matthew's mana was depleting fast as he was alone facing the bulk of the undead horde's assault. His Vital Shield was no longer protecting him fully from the low level monster attacks. Which became evident when a simple skeleton punched his face breaking his nose drawing a stream of blood out of it.

"Matthew!" Orpheu screamed. "Retreat!"

But Matthew didn't acknowledge Orpheu's words. He kept fighting desperately still smiling. He was still using Anesthesia for his arm that also masked all the other injuries he was suffering being surrounded by undead who were trying to kill him.

"Matthew!" Orpheu screamed again advancing and joining the front line with his students.

At that moment, the wight engaged with Matthew in battle. The wight had a simple sword and wore a light leather armor. When Matthew tried to deal with it using a simple downward strike, the wight was quick to deflect. Its movements were not simple as the other undead. It had intelligence. Enough to know how to fight.

Orpheu tried to break trough the line of zombies, ghouls and skeletons that separated him and Matthew, but, even though his katana sliced though the undead like butter, there was too many for him to charge forward unimpaired.

Matthew tried another strike and, again, the wight was faster and deflected it. Taking advantage of his arm being jerked back, Matthew tried a kick spinning his hips on the wight's ribs, but the undead just grabbed his leg with its free hand and its touch made Matthew feel a cold creeping into his body. It was draining Matthew's life itself.

When Orpheu though he would lose his student, a flash of light destroyed the wight's head. It was a magic missile shot by Pyrzan, the elf in green who was able to teleport. She quickly teleported to Matthew's side, grabbed him and teleported back to where the healers were treating the wounded.

Matthew struggled against Pyrzan's hold growling like a beast.

"Let me go. I'll destroy them all!" He said gnashing his teeth.

"Calm yourself, boy!" Pyrzan held him down with shackles made of solid mana. "You'll kill yourself."

"Let him." Harlynn said getting close. "I keep telling he's dangerous. Should've let him die there."

Pyrzan looked at Harlynn disapproving his statement.

"We're in this together now." She said.

Harlynn spat on the floor grunting.

"I'm telling this is a mistake." He added turning his back and walking away.

"Boy." Pyrzan said turning to Matthew. "Control yourself or you'll harm your friends."

Perhaps it was because he was restrained or it was because the word friends made the image of his flash on his mind, but that made him calm down and finally apply Purification on himself.

"Thank you, Pyrzan." Matthew said sprawling himself on the floor and breath heavily. His body covered in shallow cuts and bruises. His mana almost depleted. His nose bent and bleeding.

"Rest boy. It's our turn to fight." She said releasing Matthew from the shackles she made.

As soon as Pyrzan said those words, the elf leader Dyzan charged forward with his spear opening way through the undead and single-handedly holding the line the students were struggling to maintain.

"Fall back." Orpheu said to his students. "From now on, you'll get in the way."

When the students retreated, the 3 elven archers started to shoot. Their barrage was enough to hold the undead at a distance while Harlynn approached Dyzan with his axe on his hand. That was the power of a party of level above the 20s.

Dyzan, Harlynn and Orpheu positioned themselves in a line with enough space between them to give each other space to swing their weapons freely. Behind them Pyrzan and the elven archers kept the numbers of undead spilling from the stairs contained with ranged attacks, leaving only a few more powerful ones to be dealt with by the 3 men in the front line.

Matthew observed the 3 men with attention.

Orpheu was clearly a master with the katana in his hand. Despite being of lower level than the elves and even less powerful than Matthew when he was using demonic mana, his skill with the blade made him look formidable. His katana was also clearly a top grade magical item. The ease it was cutting through the wights' armor and weapons could only be explained by that.

Dyzan was also impressive. Clearly the most powerful of the three. Matthew shuddered seeing how easily the elf dealt with the undead. It was clear that if he had wanted it, Matthew and the others would be dead in seconds.

Harlynn, however, was not that impressive. He was as powerful as Matthew was when using his demonic mana and unholy mana in unison. The only difference between them was that Harlynn was clearly more skilled with a weapon on his hand.

Suddenly, the undead horde stopped coming down. Harlynn destroyed the few that were still on the first floor and started to pace around impatiently.

Some of the students opened a smile thinking that the battle was over. But the others knew better. It was time for the boss to appear.

The sound of horse shoes clattering the stone floors slowly getting louder made everyone, including the elves, freeze. The Dullahan was approaching.

Dullahans were expected to be equivalent to adventurers of level 30. But that was a dungeon fluctuation. If the Dullahan was only level 30, the elven party could deal with it. But the chances of it being more powerful were not slim. The level approximations used to classify monsters were not an exact science.

While a student healed Matthew's nose, he saw the head of a dark horse appear from the stairs. Its breath made white clouds come out of its nose as the temperature of the entire floor dropped. The horse was wearing a black steel armor and holding its reigns was a knight on top of it. A headless knight dressed in armor as black as his steed and carrying a sword that would be comically big if not the ease which the knight held it. A blue flame sprouted from its neck where its head should be.

The Dullahan was an impressive sight. As scary as it was mesmerizing.

Orpheu and the elves got ready expecting the Dullahan to make the first move.

By the movement of the Dullahan's shoulders, one could have the impression that it was happy.

The Dullahan lifted its sword and tapped its chest.

A greeting.

A challenge.

Its black steed stepped twice on the floor. Testing the surface for a charge.

It was coming.

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