The Mass Teleportation Incident transported an approximate number of 9,700 Adventurers to multiple Zones within the Grand Calamity Class Dungeon.
Within this massive structure, there were hundreds of Zones—nearly a thousand of them. Counting the corridors and other areas that would not qualify as a Zone, there were probably a few thousand potential locations for the victims to appear.
Accounting for the number of victims, which was much higher than the available locations, it was inevitable that some people would end up getting transported to the same location.
This selection, as was the case with the entire Mass Teleportation, was totally random.
That meant Party Members were split up from on another, and Solo Adventurers were forced to be among people whom they would normally not interact with.
Weak Adventurers were mixed in with strong ones.
Strong Adventurers were stuck with incompetent buffoons.
To make matters worse, each Zone was a different area based on the random difficulty of the Dungeon, so weaker Adventurers could be summoned to extremely dangerous Zones, while powerful ones could end up in the most uneventful place.
This randomness… it was fatal for the Conquest.
Merely a few hours after the Mass Teleportation Incident occurred, nearly two thousand Adventurers had already died.
Based on that number, and the progressive difficulty of survival in such a horrid place, it was only a matter of time before everyone was wiped out.
Everyone… without exception.
**********
'We've been lucky so far…' Thought Jake, as he walked alongside members of his newly formed Party.
None of them had no choice but to work together if they didn't want to die.
Their teamwork still left a lot to be desired, but they had somehow managed to survive this long despite most of them being Common Rank Adventurers.
Only Jake and one other were Veterans, and that wasn't nearly enough to survive in such a dreary place.
As his dark hair sat on his worried face, and his brown eyes flickered, he swallowed hard. He couldn't help but worry that this 'Luck' that his Party had would soon run out.
The air in the dungeon hung heavy with an oppressive stillness, broken only by the distant echoes of the adventurers' footsteps.
Jake and his Party walked through the narrow corridors, their armor clinking softly with each step. The torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced along the cold, damp walls.
As they turned a corner, the torchlight revealed a chamber bathed in an otherworldly glow.
A congregation of skeletal figures emerged from the shadows, adorned in tattered robes and brandishing ancient staffs.
'M-Monsters!' His eyes bulged.
And these weren't mere Monsters too…
Undead mages, their hollow eye sockets glowing with an ethereal light, began chanting in unison.
'N-no…'
The atmosphere thickened with an intense energy that sent shivers down Jake's spine.
The adventurers drew their weapons, a mixture of anticipation and fear etched on their faces.
The leader, a seasoned warrior named Sir Roland, barked orders to the party.
"They're just Caster Skeletons, and not too many of them. Attack quickly before they're done!"
Casters had less defensive capabilities, so even if they were C-Tier Monsters, even a Common Adventurer could beat one, if he acted quickly.
Added to the fact that they had all Leveled Up a few times already, they were a lot stronger than before. They could have already surpassed the previous assessment given to them by the Guild.
And so, with all of this in mind, the clash between the living and the undead commenced.
Jake, a skilled Rogue with agile movements and a keen eye, darted between the swirling signs of Spells and skeletal Casters.
~WHOOSH!~
His dual daggers glinted in the dim light as he struck with precision, dispatching the weaker undead with swift, calculated moves.
Everyone followed suit and dispatched the Casters before they could finish their Spells.
All seemed well.
But… Jake couldn't shake off the negative feelings within him.
That feeling of dread that told him that all was not well. Perhaps it was his instincts, or just paranoia.
The Dungeon proved it to be the former.
~WUUUUSH!~
Just as the Party was about to advance, the true threat emerged from the back of the chamber—a towering figure in a tattered cloak, a Lich.
Jake's eyes, just as with everyone else, widened beyond what should be considered normal.
'A-A Lich…?!'
It had just emerged from the darkness on the ground, and even now the black energy swirling around him overwhelmed the room.
A Lich, just like a Death Knight, was an A-Tier Undead—the epitome of Necromancy.
~ZZZTTTZZZZ~
The Lich's skeletal fingers twitched, and arcane energy crackled in the air.
A wave of Dark Magic surged through the room, freezing the adventurers in their tracks.
There was no need to cast a Spell, or to wait for delayed activation.
The effects were instant… and they were brutal.
"G-guh…!" Sir Roland's eyes widened as he fought against the invisible force, but it was futile.
The undying magic gripped the party, rendering them immobile.
More Undead Mages closed in, seemingly out of nowhere, casting spells that sapped the life force from the adventurers.
Desperation gripped Jake as he sliced through the skeletal horde, but the relentless assault continued.
Sir Roland, his once-proud armor now tarnished and weakened, fell to his knees as the Lich's malevolent laughter echoed through the chamber.
"Heon dhadh oouend wiwu wu!" the Lich hissed, its voice resonating with the weight of darkness.
No one understood a single word it said—not that they could, even if they wanted to.
Jake surveyed the battlefield and found out the truth.
His companions lay motionless, drained of life. All of them, without exception, were dead.
"Eeeeek!"
Just as he had suspected, their luck had run out.
Fear clawed at him.
"Uuuu… uwaaaahhhhh!"
He was beginning to regret his decision to continue with the Conquest despite his instincts telling him otherwise.
'I should have gone! I should have left when I had the chance!'
Just how many people had these very thoughts in their last moments? How many felt the regret and pain that Jake felt now?
Probably all of the Adventurers who died after the Mass Teleportation. Even Jake's allies, before their inevitable demise, must have also felt it.
The raw… overwhelming feeling of regret.
Yet, despite these rabid emotions and rabid sensations, a fire burned within.
He had to survive, if only to carry the memory of his fallen comrades.