Chapter 340 – Descent into the Abyss
The air of the dungeon was thick with damp, a metallic tang clinging to Kael's senses as he descended the spiral staircase with Zerathis close behind. Each step echoed in the emptiness, a muted percussion in the vast underground corridors. The Hollow above seemed impossibly far away—life, laughter, rebuilding—all suspended in another world. Here, only darkness, stone, and the faint pulse of lurking power remained.
Kael's hand rested on the hilt of his magisteel blade, the faint warmth of his chaos-infused magic pulsing through the weapon. Even in his measured calm, there was a thrill of anticipation running through his veins. Zerathis walked silently, his presence a comforting counterbalance, crimson eyes reflecting the dim glow of bioluminescent fungi embedded in the walls.
"We go floor by floor," Kael said, his voice quiet but firm. "No recklessness. Our priority is to gauge the dungeon's changes and conserve our energy for the bottom. This is the longest descent anyone has attempted in centuries."
Zerathis inclined his head, claws tapping lightly on the stone floor. "I anticipated nothing less. Let us begin."
Floors 1–25: Familiar Territory
The first twenty-five floors were a test of Kael's skill, but not his limits. Monsters rose from the shadows—fanged beasts, skeletal hunters, and lesser daemons—but each fell quickly under Kael's blade. The magisteel glimmered as he infused it with black flames, striking with precise arcs that cut cleanly through bone and sinew.
Zerathis moved with terrifying elegance, slicing and tearing with his claws while also consuming any beast that fell, his own body mending instantly from wounds with inhuman regeneration. They paused briefly on each floor to consume rare herbs that Kael carried, bolstering their stamina and sealing small cuts.
"It seems the dungeon is feeding them," Kael observed on the twenty-second floor, wiping blood from his gauntlet. "Even these minor beasts regenerate after a few minutes if left unchecked. Whoever designed this place… it wants life, wants growth."
Zerathis snarled in agreement, eyes narrowing. "It's a crucible. To test strength. Those who falter are consumed. Those who rise… eventually meet the source."
Floors 26–50: The First Challenges
By the time they reached the fortieth floor, the monsters were larger, faster, and more intelligent. Groups coordinated attacks, testing Kael's precision. But the synergy between him and Zerathis was flawless. Kael would weave arcs of chaos energy into his strikes, not fully unleashing the power but enough to stagger and burn the stronger monsters, while Zerathis flanked and cut with devastating speed.
They paused often, tending to minor injuries with herbs and poultices. Even a scratch could fester in the dungeon if ignored, and Kael was meticulous about preserving strength.
"Each floor feels… heavier," Kael noted, scanning the walls for mana-infused glyphs. "The deeper we go, the stronger the aura. It's as though something is… channeling energy into the dungeon itself."
Zerathis's claws scraped the stone as he stalked ahead. "It's no mistake. The source grows nearer with every step. We can feel its pulse."
Floors 51–75: The True Test
By floor fifty-one, the monsters were relentless. Entire packs of abominable creatures, some the size of a small cart, lunged in coordinated strikes. Kael's swordsmanship and chaos magic were tested fully, forcing him to combine every technique he had refined: shadows to bind, black flames to incinerate, and devastating arcs of magisteel steel to split armored foes.
Zerathis moved like a predator born from the shadows themselves, tearing apart the opposition, consuming life to fuel his endurance. The two never spoke unnecessarily; each strike, each movement, was synchronized in silence.
They paused after floor seventy-five, resting briefly on a ledge high above a cavernous pit. Kael extracted another handful of rare herbs from his pack, chewing them down with a grimace while Zerathis consumed the rest of the fallen monsters from the last floor.
"The deeper we go, the more aware I am of something watching," Kael said quietly, voice low as the wind whispered through the dungeon's cracks. "Not the monsters… something else. Something powerful."
Zerathis's ears twitched, and his tail lashed slowly behind him. "I feel it too. The heartbeat is stronger. The pulse… it resonates with your power. You were given a taste once, and it calls to you now."
Floors 76–100: Approaching the Source
As they pressed past the eightieth floor, the dungeon's aura became almost tangible. The stone walls shimmered faintly, the air thick with mana, and a low, resonant hum vibrated through the corridors. Monsters now were enormous, grotesque aberrations—daemons fused with stone, creatures that appeared almost mechanical yet living, all moving with a preternatural intelligence.
Kael's breathing grew heavier, muscles straining with each strike, but he moved with lethal precision, his shadows dancing across the floor and walls, binding foes long enough for Zerathis to execute a clean kill. They fought as one, a perfect synergy of human ingenuity and daemon ferocity.
At the ninetieth floor, Kael paused, catching his breath and sensing the true power gathering below. "Zerathis… whatever waits at the bottom," he said, voice tight with anticipation, "it's the one who gave me that surge before the orc overlord. The one who showed me a sliver of true dragon power. We need to be ready for… anything."
The daemon's crimson eyes glimmered with understanding. "I've felt its pulse the entire descent. It is aware of you. It is expecting you. And it will not hesitate to test every fragment of strength you possess."
Floor 100: The Sanctuary
When they reached the hundredth floor, the air shifted. It glimmered with a faint, ethereal light that seemed to originate from the walls themselves. Kael shivered as a strange familiarity swept through him—the same sensation he had felt the first time the voice had called to him, beckoning him to lean into his power. The floor itself seemed alive, pulsing with mana, resonating with Kael's essence.
Zerathis paused beside him, scanning the massive chamber. "This is it," he murmured. "Whatever awaits… it is older than this dungeon itself. It is patient. It is powerful. And it knows you."
Kael stepped forward, every nerve on fire, every muscle coiled like a spring. The faint glow seemed to thrum in time with his heartbeat. He sensed something familiar deeper in the chamber, a presence that radiated power like a storm contained in stone.
A voice echoed—soft, resonant, both comforting and terrifying.
"You have come," it said. Kael's hair rose on his neck. "You have climbed the abyss, faced countless perils, and survived where others would perish. You have the strength… but not yet the fullness of your power."
Kael swallowed hard. "I've come for what you promised," he said, voice steady despite the shiver crawling over his skin.
The presence seemed to shimmer, coalescing into a form vaguely humanoid but shifting, fluid, impossible to fully perceive. "And so it shall be," the voice intoned. "But first… you must embrace the fragment of yourself you have denied. Only then can your dragon form awaken fully. Only then can you face the trials that lie beyond, and reshape the world as it must be."
Zerathis's tail twitched, and he crouched slightly, sensing the tension. "Kael… whatever you do, heed your instincts. This is beyond mortal comprehension."
Kael nodded slowly, focusing, centering. The air seemed to vibrate, alive with energy, drawing forth his own chaos, shadows, and fire, merging them with a sliver of the true dragon power he had tasted before. The light in the sanctuary pulsed brighter, resonating with his soul, affirming that the journey he had undertaken was only the beginning.
The chamber fell silent, save for the heartbeat of power that Kael could feel thrumming in his chest. This was it: the moment the dungeon had been guiding him toward, the one who had offered him a taste of true dragon might. Whatever awaited, Kael knew one thing with certainty: he would face it head-on. And he would emerge, not just as a leader, but as a force beyond reckoning.
Zerathis's crimson gaze met his. "Shall we proceed?"
Kael drew a deep breath, shoulders squared, sword in hand, and whispered, "We finish this… together."
The sanctuary awaited.