The final dungeon in the game was not that difficult to progress through, all things considered. What made this dungeon stand out was the time limit. If the dungeon was not completed in the set time, which was relatively generous, the party would fail. Before, us adventurers would simply be kicked from the dungeon with a large “You Failed!” text covering our screen. This time, we were not so sure.

            Behind the stone doors was a sight to behold. The circular chamber was lit by sconces filled with ghostly green flames. Demonic runes written in blood dotted the walls and floor. The black stone flooring split in areas of past conflict. At the center of the room was a large stone slab, covered in dry blood.

            Surrounding the sacrificial altar were three figures in deep green robes. The two that stood away from the slab had staffs in their hands, while the closer one held a jagged dagger above the alter. Splayed out across the alter was a large humanoid with greyish skin. His bald head glistened in the low glow of the flames. Much like Kit-Kat, her friend was also fitted with a potato sack cloak. Heavy chains strapped the limbs of the Stoneborn to the table. Even from this distance, we could see his wide eyes as he struggled against his bonds.

            Kit-Kat pointed at the Stoneborn, “There’s Rocky!”

            Suzuha raised an eyebrow, “He made himself a Stoneborn and named himself Rocky?”

            The hooded figure with the knife stopped what he was doing, lifting his head to stare at the intruders. Only his humanoid mouth was visible beneath the hood.

            “It seems we have uninvited guests.” His voice was smooth yet held an obvious annoyance. “Take care of them. We must finish the ritual.”

            The two other robed people grabbed their staffs, preparing to cast spells in the process. Red light sparked at the end of their arcane focuses. With little time to react, Suzuha did a screeching power slide on her guitar. The ruckus caused the two casters to hesitate for a split second, canceling their cast. I rushed forward, slamming into one of the minions with a shoulder tackle.

            Kit-Kat slammed her greatsword into the stone beneath her, baring her canine fangs at the other cultist. You could actually see the soundwave of her Provoke skill emanate from her. Her cultist gripped his weapon with both hands and tried casting another blue-colored spell at Kit-Kat.

            Her dog-like instincts took over. Kit-Kat ran her sword sideways, catching the simple wooden stick with the edge. Like a hot knife through butter, Sanguine Fang split the enemy’s weapon in two.

            Despite wanting to run, the magical properties or Kit-Kat’s tanking abilities forced the cultist to fight back, even if it meant using his fists. String bean arms swung limply into Kit-Kat's heavy armor, doing no damage to her. A sharp, toothy grin spread across her face. Her gauntleted hand gripped the cultist by the head, lifting him slightly off the ground, before gutting him with her sword. A gurgling noise came from the back of her victim’s throat before he went limp in her grip.

            My cultist, on the other hand, was busy trying to defend himself from my flurry of fists. These two enemies were nothing more than weak trash mobs that were meant to be a nuisance. My enemy hit the ground, bloody and bruised.

            While this was happening, Suzuha played her heart out, making sure that Kit-Kat and I had as many buffs up as we could. Faster movement and attacks, health and mana regen, and even a few defensive buffs kept us going, but were not necessary for this stage of the fight. I did appreciate the work she put in, however.

            Kit-Kat wheeled around, facing the lead cultist, “Let my friend go!”

            Provoke activated again, forcing the head enemy to face her, “Fine. If you want something done right, then you do it yourself.”

            Dropping his dagger, the boss’s body began to grow in size. Larger and larger he went until his robes could no longer contain the hulking mass of a man. Underneath his robes, a set of basic armor protected the overgrown human’s body. Materializing from green flames in his right hand, a diabolically designed ax lit the room. Now that his face was visible, it was obvious the cultist was human, or at least he was. Now he appeared as more of an ogre-like figure, with hulking muscles, a bald head, and the height to leer down at us. The final step to saving Kit-Kat’s friend was in our way and in full glory.