Wyverns were considered the "weakest" type of dragon monsters in [Eternal Soul].

That didn't mean they were weak.

There were just many other variations that went beyond them: drakes, lindworms, and of course, the true dragons.

The dragons were in a league of their own though.

Every true dragon in the game was a legendary being.

They could flatten cities with a single breath, turning everything into ash.

They weren't monsters you fought casually.

They were disasters given form, forces of nature that only the strongest players could ever hope to face.

But the truth was even wider than that.

In [Eternal Soul], it wasn't just about dragon-type monsters.

There was also the dragon race itself, one of the countless races that shaped the world.

They were intelligent, terrifying, and held powers that put them above most others.

The difference between dragons, dragon-type monsters, and the dragon race was clear.

But Stark didn't care.

He wouldn't meet any of them anytime soon.

For now, all he had to face was what was right in front of him.

The [Demonic Wyvern].

It dropped from above with a thunderous crash, wings flaring wide as its claws dug into the stone.

The chamber shook from its weight alone, dust raining down from the cracks above.

Four meters tall, its crimson skin glistened under the glow of the torches.

Its wings were jagged, torn at the edges like blades, and its jaw looked big enough to snap steel.

Across its body ran strange, pulsating flame symbols that glowed faintly, crawling over its wings and tail.

It looked like fire was etched into its very flesh, burning without consuming.

It wasn't majestic like a dragon.

But it was terrifying all the same.

Two demonic horns curled from its head, sharp and black.

Its eyes glowed a deep crimson, locked directly on Stark as it blocked the way forward.

Behind it stood the massive gate to the next floor.

Stark knew the rules of this zone.

There was no way to pass without killing the wyvern.

The gate wouldn't open.

And even if someone tried to sneak around, the wyvern would sense them most of the time and strike them down before they got close.

There was no avoiding this fight.

Stark's eyes flared with excitement as he stared at it.

---

[Demonic Wyvern (Level 39)]

[Rank: Legendary (Special Boss)]

[HP: 2,700,000]

---

Two point seven million HP.

Even more than Molder, the demon general.

And Molder had already been a nightmare for most players.

This thing wasn't meant to be soloed.

It would take a full team, coordinated attacks, healing, buffs, tanks, and everything else.

Even then, most players would fail.

The only people Stark knew who had ever beaten it in his past life were [Ghost], who probably struck it repeatedly from behind until it died.

The x15 damage multiplier was indeed useful after all.

And maybe [EvilDemon] or the handful of top-ranked players who had powerful talents and classes.

For everyone else, the wyvern was the wall.

The reason no one made it further.

It stood tall, spreading its razor wings wide, making the chamber feel smaller by the second.

It spread it sharp wings, as if trying to intimidate him.

Wyvern Glare!

Its eyes lit up, staring directly at Stark's soul.

Stark grimaced. He remembered this skill too well.

It was the one he hated the most from this monster.

It would weaken your accuracy, lower your attack strength, and crush your morale.

It was a skill the wyvern used endlessly, over and over, no matter what.

Every battle started with it.

But this time… Nothing.

Stark's heart didn't shake. His mind didn't falter.

A grin spread across his face as he wasn't affected.

Bind of Silk!

White threads shot from his staff instantly, wrapping around the wyvern's body.

Its wings thrashed, claws scraped against the floor, and its teeth snapped at the air, but it was too late.

The silk bound it in place, tightening harder the more it resisted.

If Ghost had been with him, this was the perfect opening.

She would've attacked from behind while it was locked down, ending the fight quickly.

But Stark was alone, he needed to face it head-on!

He pointed his staff forward, eyes glowing.

Blazing Meteor! Storm of Lightning! Vines of Fate!

Fwish! Boom! Crack!

-425,280! -255,168! -230,112!

The spells crashed into the wyvern, one after another, staggering it as its skin burned and lightning crawled across its body.

It roared, struggling violently, but the silk held.

And then...

Piercing Skeletal Spikes!

The ground beneath the wyvern erupted.

Fifteen jagged bone spikes shot upward at once, piercing straight through its underbelly.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

-72,000! -72,000! -72,000!

Blood sprayed across the chamber, staining the floor dark.

In seconds, Stark had ripped away more than 1.8 million HP.

The wyvern's eyes widened. Then it roared.

ROOOOOOOOARRRR!

The sound shook the chamber like an earthquake.

Stones fell from above. The air itself vibrated.

Stark narrowed his eyes. He knew what that roar meant.

'The berserk form.'

The wyvern's body pulsed as its wings sharpened, claws lengthened, and teeth glistened like polished blades.

The aura pouring from its body doubled, pressing down on Stark like a storm.

Its HP had dropped below a million.

Now it was more dangerous than ever.

["Demonic Wyvern" has entered a "Berserk" state.]

The silk bindings began to snap. One by one.

And then—

FWISH!

Its massive jaw opened wide, fire glowing deep inside.

'Shit,' Stark's eyes narrowed.

The wyvern's signature move: its area of effect attack.

A blast that covered nearly the entire chamber.

And the second reason no one could beat it.

Most parties barely pushed it this far.

But when they did, this was the attack that wiped them.

Stark didn't hesitate.

Blazing Meteor! Crystal of Death! Storm of Lightning!

The chamber shook again as his spells rained down, hammering the wyvern before it could finish charging.

-425,280! -60,000! -30,000! -30,000! -255,168!

The wyvern was on its very last sliver of HP.

Its body was broken, bleeding, burned.

But it still finished the charge.

FWOOOOSH!

Demonic Flames!

The wyvern unleashed crimson fire, engulfing the entire chamber in a sea of hellfire.

Stark raised his staff.

Unbreakable Magic Barrier!

The barrier flared to life around him.

Fire slammed into it from every direction, heat so intense the ground itself melted.

-5,000! -5,000! -5,000!

Every second, the flames tore through the barrier.

[Unbreakable Magic Barrier: 75,000/100,000]

Stark gritted his teeth.

The flames kept pouring, endless, relentless.

'[Vines of Fate] won't work… the fire would burn them instantly,' he thought, sweat dripping down his face from the heat, 'I need another skill's cooldown.'

The barrier cracked, but Stark held on in the fire.

And eventually...

Piercing Skeletal Spikes!

The ground erupted again.

The spikes tore upward, cutting through the fire and stabbing straight into the wyvern's body.

It was too focused on killing the human before it to notice anything else.

Fwish!

-72,000! -72,000! -72,000!

The wyvern's roar broke off mid-scream.

Its eyes widened, mouth snapping shut as the flames sputtered and died.

Its body staggered, trembling… before crashing to the ground. Dead.

Stark lowered his staff, his barrier barely holding.

[Unbreakable Magic Barrier: 5,000/100,000]

'Close.'

If he hadn't braced through it, he would've been burned alive.

The only real way to avoid that attack was sticking to the ceiling or running out of the room.

He hadn't done either. He'd stood and fought. And it worked.

The wyvern's massive body twitched once… then went still.

Silence filled the chamber.

Then—

Ding!

[You have killed "Demonic Wyvern (Level 39 Legendary-Rank Special Boss)"]

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.