I Became a Raid Boss-Chapter 133: Raid (4)

Fine’s raid group belonged to a category that didn’t merely rely on guides but often created them.

This was unsurprising.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

Fine typically dived into raids shortly after they were released, a time when no proper guides were available and successful clears were almost unheard of.

Analyzing patterns and developing strategies from scratch was far more challenging than following pre-existing guides.

But the thrill of blazing a trail, of forging one’s own path, was incomparable to simply following in someone else’s footsteps.

“But this time, we’ll approach things differently,” Fine said, distributing the materials he had prepared.

“To be honest, our odds aren’t great.”

One of the seven precious days had already passed.

The team now included two newcomers with no raid experience, replacing seasoned members.

The unpleasant restriction remained that only one party could enter the barrier at a time, severely limiting the number of attempts they could make.

“So, we’ll be borrowing strategies from the groups that have already tried.”

While the words sounded lofty, it wasn’t all that uncommon.

It was typical to reference how other groups had managed to progress, especially when rumors circulated about their advancements.

Yet Fine’s decision to admit this openly had a specific purpose.

“As you suggested, we won’t just brute-force our way through. Got it?”

“Open your textbooks already,” he added, firmly.

Yuki pouted at the stern remark.

“...And wipe.”

“Ahhh! I’m dying! Heal me, please!”

“The healer’s down!”

“What?! When?!”

“The curse wasn’t transferred in time—it exploded!”

Another wipe.

“Seriously, hold aggro properly!”

“With these AoE heals flying around, how am I supposed to hold aggro?”

“Well, we can’t just die to the DoT damage... oh.”

And yet another wipe.

The sight of the ceiling above and the path back to the battlefield had become all too familiar.

Fine staggered to his feet, trying to piece his thoughts together.

“What’s the problem?”

The answer came immediately.

“Everything.”

There was no point in singling out one issue.

Still, if Fine were to pick the most frustrating element, it was, without hesitation, the miasma.

The corrosive energy began draining HP as soon as they entered the barrier.

The closer they got to Kana, the stronger the damage, interfering with every other strategy they tried.

Even survivable hits turned lethal when compounded with the constant damage over time.

Using wide-area healing skills to counteract it quickly caused threat mismanagement and drained mana.

The solution was a delicate balancing act of healing just enough to keep the party alive without overextending.

“Ugh...”

One of Fine’s healers, Lemonie, exemplified how challenging this was.

With a pale face, she barely managed to keep her trembling hands steady.

Fine patted her on the shoulder sympathetically.

“You chose to be a healer. Just hang in there, okay?”

“I want to quit healing...”

“Denied.”

“Ugh, mean!”

Not all news was bad, though.

The two members Fine had been most concerned about—Daeun and Yuki—were exceeding expectations.

Yuki’s tendency to clash with others was offset by her exceptional individual skill, which covered for her shortcomings.

Meanwhile, Daeun, though less skilled individually, visibly put effort into syncing with the team.

Moreover, she had an unexpected advantage: thanks to her Dragon Orb, she was less affected by the miasma.

“Journey, how much did this thing cost again?”

“Hmm? What are you asking about?”

“The magic item you got from Kana in Baltora.”

“Oh, this? I got it cheap because of Kana, but the original price was—”

Fine immediately dropped the idea of getting one after hearing the answer.

“How long do you think this next party will last?”

“Three minutes for me.”

“Oh, instant ramen duration? I’ll bet one minute, then.”

“Come on, that’s harsh! They could last longer!”

“Then Fine, you bet on five minutes or more.”

“Two minutes. I’ll take two minutes.”

“Boring.”

Betting on how long other parties would last in the barrier was an entertaining way to pass the time.

So far, no group had survived beyond five minutes, making it the “ultimate underdog bet” and a symbol of reckless courage.

In reality, calling it courage was generous—foolishness was a better term.

When the timer ticked just past two minutes, the barrier’s entrance opened.

“Ah, if only they’d held out a little longer. The noodles wouldn’t even be cooked yet.”

“Raw noodles aren’t bad, though.”

The group stood up, brushing dirt off themselves.

“No matter how short the try times are, waiting like this is still boring.”

“If the legendary Sillia Online streamer Journey stepped up, we wouldn’t have to wait at all, right?”

“...You’re joking, right?”

Daeun didn’t bother hiding her exasperation as she shook her head.

“I’m not a dedicated Sillia streamer, nor do I have that kind of influence. Besides, there’s already a new controversy about me from last time.”

“Controversy? Oh, the power-abuse one.”

“You knew and brought it up on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Oh, come on. How could I tease the great corporate streamer, Journey? But seriously, ‘power abuse’? That’s kind of funny.”

“Well... it was an unreasonable request.”

“Are you going in or not?”

Yuki, already waiting at the entrance, tapped her greatsword impatiently.

The surrounding groups, also waiting their turn, shot irritated glares at Fine’s team for their delay.

Nobody liked wasting time, especially not when trying to make progress in such a punishing raid.

The moment they stepped into the boss room, the miasma enveloped them, and their HP began to steadily drain.

Unlike other raids, where the tank would pull the boss to initiate combat, Kana’s fight started immediately, leaving no time for review or last-minute strategies.

Fine quickly shouted the most critical instructions.

“You know the drill! Healers, manage the curse timers and dot heals carefully!”

With no time for a proper pre-fight briefing, Fine’s orders were fired off like a machine gun.

“Alright, let’s aim to last more than five minutes this time.”

A short countdown ended.

Fine's raid group charged toward the pink-haired girl sitting idly before them.

For a fleeting moment, Fine entertained a peculiar thought:

If someone were to witness this scene, would they see it as a group of eight adults mercilessly tormenting a frail young girl?

Even as the thought crossed his mind, his sword did not stop swinging.

After all, isn’t life a comedy when viewed from afar, but a tragedy up close?

The girl who seemed so delicate was, in truth, the monster that had annihilated countless raid groups.

Hesitating out of pity would mean only one thing—death.

Fine steadied his resolve.

[You Died]

"..."

-LOL ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

-??? “This time, let’s last more than five minutes.”

-Well, how’s that underdog bet looking now?

-RIP my dreams...

-Where am I? Who am I?

Fine stared at the all-too-familiar message on the screen.

They had lasted a little over four minutes.

“This makes it six days now.”

A man draped in a heavy robe landed softly near the barrier.

Despite his discreet arrival, no one among the crowd surrounding the barrier seemed to notice him.

This was natural—or so his demeanor suggested—as he approached the shimmering boundary and placed his hand upon it.

Wuum!

“Whoa!”

“Huh? What was that?”

“Did you hear something?”

The barrier trembled violently in response to the man’s touch, resonating with an unnatural hum.

“Even in this state, you’re still so stubborn,” he muttered.

The barrier, created by the Sage of the Empire, had turned pitch black, spreading its ominous shade all the way to the highest edges.

The man withdrew his hand, wary of provoking the entity inside.

Any recklessness might cause the monster sensing his mana to shatter the barrier and escape prematurely.

“I had hoped seeing the Apostle you cherished so much might bring you back to your senses,” the man said, his gaze drifting to a woman nearby.

She had sharp, upturned eyes and wore an expression of thinly veiled melancholy.

“Perhaps I misjudged. Was your bond not as deep as I thought? Or was the prison that holds you simply too unyielding?”

Regardless, another purpose had failed as well.

“I never expected you to falter against mere puppets dancing on strings,” he muttered, disappointment flickering in his voice.

Still, it mattered little.

This, too, was part of the divine flow Edel envisioned.

A brief glint of regret passed across his face, visible only for an instant beneath his hood.

“I came here to bid you farewell. Though you were my enemy, you were a foe deserving of respect.”

How much better things might have been had you been born in the Empire instead of Gracid.

The man had tried countless times to bring Kana into the Empire’s fold, but no amount of effort could overcome the fury of a child who had lost her father.

“When dawn breaks, this barrier will collapse entirely.”

Even if it didn’t, a barrier stripped of its control would no longer be able to contain the monster inside.

And when it fell, the sharpest blade of the Empire would be ready to meet her.

All preparations were complete.

Now, all that remained was to wait for time to pass.

“I quite enjoyed fighting you,” he said, his parting words surprisingly light.

One step, then another.

The man’s figure vanished into thin air as if it had never been there at all.

“...?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Wasn’t there someone just now?”

“No, I didn’t see anyone.”

“Really...?”

“Maybe you’re just tired. You should rest for a while.”

Had someone been there?

Daeun tilted her head, unconvinced, but leaned back against the tree as suggested.

Maybe she really was so exhausted that she’d started seeing things.

“...So tired,” she murmured, closing her eyes and ignoring the faint white afterimage lingering in her vision.

Fine’s raid group ultimately failed to defeat the monster.

The seventh dawn arrived.

The towering barrier that had once reached the heavens was now completely blackened.

Wooong—

No longer silver, the barrier emitted a dark, ominous sound as it quaked violently, as though on the verge of collapse.

And then, abruptly, it stopped.

The quivering barrier, which seemed ready to crumble, suddenly steadied itself.

Had it endured?

“...Phew.”

One of the onlookers let out an unconscious sigh of relief.

But then—

Shhhhh.

Like sugar dissolving in water, like a sandcastle swept away by the wind, the colossal barrier began to melt.

The surreal sight left everyone frozen in place, staring as it shrank rapidly.

Within moments, it was no taller than a low wall.

And then, it vanished entirely.

The oppressive miasma trapped within the barrier surged forth like a storm.

“Gahk!”

“I—can’t breathe...!”

Those too close to the barrier clutched their throats in agony.

Those quick enough to retreat survived, while the less fortunate collapsed lifelessly where they stood.

The battlefield grew deathly silent, tension thick in the air.

Tap.

A soft footstep broke the silence.

Someone turned toward the sound and muttered, almost instinctively:

“...The Demon King.”

Through the dense miasma, a pair of pink eyes gleamed coldly.