The Hunter Monarch

The disorienting vortex of transit collapsed as quickly as it had formed, snapping reality back into place with a sudden lurch. The damp, earthy smell of a grotto was replaced by the dry, dusty scent of ancient paper and stagnant, mineral-rich water. Lin Yu's feet found purchase not on slick stone, but on ornate, cracking tiles.

They stood in a vast, circular chamber of breathtaking scale. Towering shelves, carved from some kind of dark, polished stone, reached up into a gloom so thick that the ceiling was completely invisible. The shelves were packed with countless water-logged, decaying tomes, their pages swollen and warped. A faint, ethereal blue light emanated from glowing crystals embedded in the architecture, casting long, eerie shadows that danced like ghosts. The air was unnervingly silent, the only sound the slow, rhythmic drip… drip… drip… of water echoing from somewhere in the darkness.

"Layer confirmed," Li Mei, the Ranger, murmured, her sharp eyes already scanning the chamber. "It's the Sunken Library. Looks like we got lucky with the dice roll today."

Tao, the young healer, let out a breath he seemed to have been holding since they stepped through the Door. "Wow. It's… beautiful."

"It's a tomb," Chen, the Paladin, grunted, his heavy shield held ready. "Let's not forget that." He turned to Su Wan. "Captain, the arrival point is clear. The entry portal has closed. We are committed."

Lin Yu glanced back. Where the shimmering Door had been was now a solid, unblemished stone wall. Chen's words confirmed the unwritten rule every Hunter knew: there was no turning back. Their only way out was forward, through whatever horrors the Layer held, until they found an Exit Gate or killed the Layer's guardian.

Su Wan nodded, drawing her longsword. The weapon made a soft shing as it cleared its scabbard, a sound that cut through the silence. "Alright. Li Mei, scout ahead. Watch for pressure plates and glyph traps. Chen, take point with me. Tao, stay in the center. Lin Yu…" She looked back at him, her expression professional, all trace of their earlier warmth replaced by a commander's focus. "Stay behind Tao. Do not engage. Your job is to observe and collect. That's it. Understood?"

"Understood," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. He tightened his grip on the straps of his pack and faded back, making himself as inconspicuous as possible. He was now in his element: the designated shadow.

The party moved forward in a diamond formation, a well-oiled machine of cautious aggression. They entered a long, vaulted hallway where the water was ankle-deep, covering the tiled floor in a dark, reflective sheet. Their sloshing footsteps were unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence.

Lin Yu's mind, primed by hours of study, was already working. Sunken Library. Ruin-type. Highest probability threats: Corrupted Ink Elementals and Sunken Scribes. He kept his eyes peeled, not at the path ahead, but at the periphery—the dark corners, the shadowed archways, the piles of decaying books where something could lie in wait.

They didn't have to wait long.

From a puddle of murky water ahead, a form began to coalesce. It rose like a living shadow, a vaguely humanoid shape made of roiling, black ink. Two glowing, white pinpricks appeared where its eyes should be.

"Elemental!" Chen bellowed, his voice echoing in the hall. He stomped forward, planting his shield firmly. "Engage!"

The Ink Elemental let out a gurgling shriek and shot a jet of black, viscous fluid at the Paladin. The ink splattered against Chen's shield with a wet smack, sizzling like acid.

Su Wan was already moving, flanking the creature. Her sword became a blur, but her first strike passed through the elemental's amorphous body with little effect, leaving only a dissipating swirl in the ink. "Physical attacks are ineffective!" she called out, confirming what Lin Yu already knew.

"I'm on it!" Chen roared. He slammed the base of his shield into the floor, and a wave of golden, holy light radiated outwards. "[Consecrate]!"

The light washed over the Ink Elemental, and for the first time, the creature recoiled, its form flickering violently as if in great pain. It was a Paladin's area-of-effect skill, a perfect counter.

Seeing its weakness, the party pressed their advantage. While Chen held its attention with his holy aura, Li Mei loosed an arrow that exploded in a flash of brilliant light—a custom-made flash-bang arrowhead. The elemental shrieked, its inky form destabilizing. Seizing the opportunity, Su Wan channeled energy into her blade, a pure Warrior skill this time, and delivered a powerful slash that finally tore the creature asunder. The Ink Elemental dissolved into the water with a final, gurgling sigh, leaving behind only a small, pulsating black pearl on the floor.

The entire fight had lasted less than ten seconds. It was a flawless execution of teamwork and strategy.

And Lin Yu had done nothing but watch.

He felt the familiar, bitter sting of his own uselessness. It was a cold, coiling serpent in his gut. He knew they were fighting an Ink Elemental. He knew its weaknesses. From his studies, he even knew that its core—the pearl—was most vulnerable in the three seconds after it fired its ink jet. He could have shouted advice, offered a suggestion.

But what would have been the point? They already knew. They were competent, skilled Hunters. His knowledge, in the face of their experience, was redundant. Shouting "It's weak to light!" to a Paladin was like telling a bird it could fly. It was insulting.

His role began only after the danger had passed.

"Loot it, Lin Yu," Su Wan said, her breathing steady.

He moved forward, his boots sloshing in the water. He knelt and picked up the "Ink Pearl," a C-grade enchanting material. He recorded it on his data-slate, noting the time and location, then stored it in a specially padded pouch in his pack. His movements were precise, his demeanor professional. He was a good Pack Mule. It was the only thing he could be.

He felt like a child watching warriors at play, allowed only to pick up their toys after the game was over. He hated it. He hated the feeling of being baggage, a liability who had to be protected, a spectator to the events that determined his own survival. He followed the party deeper into the library, the single Ink Pearl in his pack feeling as heavy as a mountain of shame.

He didn't notice the change in the oppressive silence, the subtle shift in the air that suggested they were no longer just being watched by ghosts, but were now being hunted.