Level-Up Apocalypse: Surviving With The Assimilation System
Chapter 113: Bitter Lesson

The flames danced, howling with a magnificent intensity as the impact spread itself throughout the encompassing sludge. Everything continued to shake for moments more, bringing dust to rain down alongside the sparks and evaporating tar.

There was silence in those sparse seconds; some of it was hope that their companion survived, though it was a far-off wish. As the bountiful smoke was pushed away, the state of the dragon that had absorbed the entirety of the calamitous explosion was revealed.

It slumped from the wall, nothing more than a blackened skeleton, yet still somehow moving.

Jasper still had his shield raised, shouting out, "Go now–! Finish it–!"

There was nothing else that needed to be said as Finn held the tears back, rising to his feet as he stumbled forward, catching himself on his hands before continuing his sprint. Even if it hurt, even if his heart ached, he put it aside so as not to waste the opportunity given.

He found himself right beside the spellblade as they approached the husk of the rotting dragon as it weakly roared and raised itself. In the middle of its exposed chest cavity was a pitch-black organ; a beating heart larger than a grown man, pumping the cursed substance.

"There!" Charlotte called out, having teary eyes herself, yet not letting it dull her blade.

In some attempt to defend itself, the skeletal dragon swept its arm wildly to ward them off, though the spellblade met it with her light-engulfed sword.

["Radiant Arc"]

The motion of the weapon cut right through the forearm of the rotting beast, amputating its hand from its arm in a single strike.

Finn didn't waste the opportunity as he kept moving, sprinting up the other arm of the dragon before leaping up towards its chest. As he was in midair, he found its boney jaws opening up as it intended to catch him in its mouth–

"Replication!" He shouted.

He manifested a half-baked doppelganger of himself, having it grab onto his arm to toss him out of the way of the dragon's jaws. It brought him straight through the opened cavity of the crumbling dragon, setting his boots on its ribs.

Face-to-face with the grotesque heart, there was nothing left to do, not a moment to hesitate, as he sank his dagger right into the beating organ. With the blade plunging into the malformed core, it pulsated with a boiling heat; he felt it through how hot the handle of his dagger quickly became.

"...Haah…" He breathed out before plucking his blade from the heart, releasing a spray of ooze from its malignant nucleus.

A bellow released from the decayed calamity's jaws before it slumped over, bringing the assassin to jump out of the open cavity just as the beast collapsed. The blackened bones crumbled like brittle, dismissed into a putrid powder.

["Fallen Icon of Gluttony, Fafnir defeated."] ["Anarch Coin x10,000 obtained."]

[Experience Points: +90,000]

[Level thirty-three reached!] [43990/65000]

[Assimilated ability from [Fallen Icon of Gluttony, Fafnir]: "Touch of Rot"]

[New Skill(s) Obtained: "Art of Combat: Capoeira"]

With the putrid beast put to an end, he stood there for a moment as the system display was blurred to him, turning his focus to the state of his friend.

"Magnus? Where is–" He questioned in a hurry, turning around.

The sight he met made his heart drag for a moment, catching his words in his throat. He found the others huddled around what hardly looked human anymore; a charred, decimated body far beyond repair.

Charlotte had her head down, though was clearly sobbing while Jasper comforted her, though Nova sat there in shock. The harrowing sight brought Finn to rush over, nearly falling over as he hurried, rummaging through his own coat for the nearly empty ambrosia.

"The ambrosia…! We can still–we can still help him!" Finn said in a panic, bringing himself at the side of what was left of his comrade.

As he found the bottle from under his coat, he nearly dropped it as his hands were laden in sweat, replaceing his fingers hardly listening to him as his heartbeat swelled.

He brought it to the burnt lips of the man, pouring in a sip of the ambrosia and waiting a moment, "Come on…! You just…You just have to swallow, Magnus! Come on!"

Again, he tried, pouring more of the magical substance into the man's mouth, though nothing came; not a breath nor a twitch of a finger.

"Mate," Jasper quietly said.

"He just has to drink it–that's all. We have to help him swallow–" Finn hurriedly said, attempting once more.

This time, Jasper stopped him by softly grabbing his wrist, "Mate. He's already gone."

Finn paused, looking down at the hardly recognizable face of his companion as he slowly withdrew the bottle. The faces of those around him already accepted it, settling in for him the unwanted reality.

"Dammit…" Finn quietly said, accepting once more the presence of loss. "We should go back."

"Finn?" Charlotte said, rubbing her eyes.

He spoke the truth he felt with a heart wrung by the sting of reality, "We weren't strong enough to beat that thing. If it wasn't for what Magnus did for us, we would all be dead."

There was some silence before Jasper spoke up with a solemn expression, nodding his head, "I agree, mate. You're right–if we continue on as we are, there's only going to be more loss."

"For now, let's head back. There's still a lot more to this world. We can build ourselves up until we're sure we can win," Finn said, straightening himself out as he stood up, lending his hand down to the spellblade. "I think for now though, we need some rest…Let's head back to the old elf. Sound good?"

"Mm," Charlotte nodded quietly, sniffling as she accepted the helping hand.

["It was a tragic loss, but a valuable lesson. If we didn't learn then, we would've all died if we continued forward. There was no point in rushing to our deaths; there was still time to get stronger."]