Tyrant's return: Reborn as a Good-For-Nothing Young Master
Chapter 83: Ch 83: Dealing with the Boss- Part 2

Chapter 83: Ch 83: Dealing with the Boss- Part 2

Fenrir turned toward the dazed group of hunters who were now limping near the edge of the valley, covered in dust and scorch marks from the monster’s earlier swipe.

He tossed a small glass vial toward the closest one.

"Drink that. Then get out of here. While you still can."

He said flatly.

The young man caught it clumsily, blinking in confusion.

"What the—what is this?"

One of his teammates stepped forward, eyes widening as he took the vial and examined the faint blue glow swirling inside.

"Wait... I’ve seen this. This is the potion from the Legion stream last month. The one everyone said was made by Mr. X."

Another member of the group, a tall man with a jagged scar over his brow, narrowed his eyes at Fenrir.

"Mr. X? You’re saying this guy is that guy?"

Fenrir didn’t answer.

His eyes were focused on the massive birdlike boss still perched at the far end of the valley, wings tucked, but eyes glowing with the kind of predatory boredom that meant it could attack again at any moment.

"Hold on...I’ve seen him before. That’s Fenrir Black. He’s the younger brother of Fredric Black—CEO of Legion."

Someone muttered in realization.

There was a pause before another voice chimed in, this one full of disdain.

"Figures. A rich, lucky bastard. Of course he’d have potions like that. Why not? Born with the right name, and everything else falls into place."

Fenrir heard it all.

The accusation. The bitterness. But his face remained still, unreadable. He didn’t defend himself. Didn’t bother.

A different hunter, clutching his bleeding side, let out a dry cough.

"Can it, Jarell. That ’lucky bastard’ just saved your life. You think we’d be standing here if that boss had actually wanted to kill us?"

"He didn’t save me,"

Jarell snapped. "He just tossed a potion and acted like some big-shot."

The injured man pointed at the potion.

"You know how much this stuff sells for? You wouldn’t even get near the bidding room, let alone buy one."

Another woman in the group looked at Fenrir, hesitant.

"Are... are you really Fenrir Black?"

"I am."

Fenrir finally said, voice calm.

"Then... are you really Mr. X too?"

He turned his eyes toward her, unreadable again.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, if you are, then maybe you can—"

She stammered.

Fenrir cut her off.

"I’m not here to help you clear this dungeon. I only came for something. And now that the boss is up, I suggest you leave before it changes its mind about letting you live."

One of the men took a step forward.

"What about you? You staying here? Are you gonna fight that thing alone?"

Fenrir chuckled under his breath.

"Me? No. I’m going to run."

They stared at him in disbelief.

"You’re... not serious."

Said the woman, eyebrows furrowing.

"Oh, I am. That thing’s beyond me at the moment. I’m not arrogant enough to take on something I can’t beat just for pride."

Fenrir replied.

"That’s smart, actually...More than I can say for most idiots we run with."

The injured hunter muttered.

"Exactly. This monster’s not guarding loot or cores—it’s guarding its territory. The only reason it didn’t kill you is because it doesn’t see you as a threat. Stay too long, and that’ll change."

Fenrir said.

Jarell scoffed.

"So what now? You walk in here, act all high and mighty, drop one potion, and now you’re the boss of us?"

Fenrir looked him in the eye.

"You can stay if you want. Just don’t expect me to save you a second time."

Jarell grumbled but didn’t reply. His teammates began nudging him toward the exit.

"We owe you, Fenrir. Even if you didn’t mean to help us."

Said the woman quietly as she passed.

"I didn’t. But you’re welcome anyway."

He said bluntly.

She gave him a half-smile, then turned to follow her team.

As they limped off, Fenrir remained at the edge of the valley, alone again.

He turned his gaze back toward the massive creature now lying protectively around the field of herbs, its feathers flickering with residual flames.

"...Now then, let’s see if I can sneak around you without dying."

Fenrir murmured to himself, cracking his neck.

______

The party didn’t waste another second.

With the massive dungeon boss looming ominously behind them, they bolted toward the dungeon’s entrance.

Not one of them looked back to see if the boy who had saved them was following.

Not out of malice, but because the sheer pressure of the monster behind them had them moving on instinct. Survival came first.

Fenrir, meanwhile, stayed rooted in place, eyes fixed on the great avian creature.

It was easily twenty meters tall, its molten feathers shimmering in the dim dungeon light, and its sharp golden eyes radiating intelligence—and warning.

"I’m grateful that you let those fools run away."

Fenrir said aloud, his voice carrying across the field between them.

The boss’s gaze shifted to him slowly, watching.

"But unfortunately, I didn’t come here for them. I came for something you’re guarding. The Mystica Herba."

Fenrir continued, taking a step forward.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the boss let out a sharp, vibrating cry. Its wings unfurled wide, revealing arcs of electricity crackling along the edges.

With a sudden flick, it launched several blades of lightning from the tips of its wings, each one tearing through the air with a high-pitched shriek.

"Tch—"

Fenrir dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding the first blade. A second came too close for comfort, singing the edge of his coat.

The third hit the ground nearby.

BOOM!

The entire valley shook as the impact exploded, revealing molten rock beneath the earth. Lava bubbled up, spreading across the terrain in glowing veins.

"Oh, come on! Not only do I have to fight you, but the dungeon too? This is cheating!"

Fenrir shouted, leaping onto a higher ridge to avoid the spreading magma.

The bird-boss let out another cry—this one clearly dismissive.

Fenrir scowled.

"I should’ve expected as much. Monsters don’t care about fairness."

The boss didn’t wait for more words. It beat its wings once more, launching another wave of lightning blades.

This time, they were faster, sharper, and more numerous. Fenrir’s eyes narrowed, his mana flaring to life around him.

He summoned a stone wall from the ground, using his newly acquired [Master of Earth] skill, shielding himself from the incoming barrage.

The lightning tore through the wall but slowed just enough for him to slip behind a nearby column of rock.

"Guess I’ll have to take this seriously."

Fenrir muttered, gripping one of his blades. The weight of the moment pressed down on him—but also excited him.

Because this was how it always started.

Fenrir took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

"Nedrax."

He whispered.

A shadow passed overhead. The massive dragon familiar soared in from above, landing behind Fenrir with a thunderous impact that cracked the ground.

"You finally need me?"

Nedrax grinned, smoke curling from his nostrils.

"Yeah. Burn it, but keep the plant alive."

"Delicate work. I like it."

The dragon’s wings flared, eyes locking onto the boss.

The two monsters stared at each other—beast against beast.

Fenrir stepped forward, blade drawn.

"Let’s dance."

With that, both he and Nedrax lunged toward the boss, the battle truly beginning.