Chapter 121: The Dungeon's Relentless Design
Arios walked forward, the mist parting faintly before him, pulled by the sheer force of his steady momentum. The forest had shifted again, indicating another stage transition. The trunks of the trees were wider now, some as thick as four men standing side by side, their bark black and gnarled. Their roots jutted out of the ground like thick, grasping ribs, forcing him to step carefully to avoid tripping. The air was heavy, thick with the damp, earthy smell of the illusion, and the silence was unnatural, broken only by the sound of his own labored breathing.
His grip on the wooden sword tightened, the familiar wood rough against his sweat-slicked palm. His breathing was steady, though the deep ache in his arms and legs lingered, a constant, dull protest. He had fought for what felt like hours already, pushing his limits repeatedly, yet the dungeon didn't loosen its grip. Garron was testing his very limits of endurance and discipline.
