The dungeon smelled of stone and old magic.
Azer's boots crunched softly over broken debris, the sound swallowed by shadows that seemed to cling to him. The first chamber he stepped into was vast, circular, cathedral-high, its walls etched with jagged runes that pulsed faintly in violet. Dust and ash drifted in the air, catching in his lungs with each careful inhale.
He paused at the threshold, his senses stretching outward. Wolf instincts mapped the room—the pattern of light and shadow, the direction of airflow, the faint vibration of hidden mechanisms beneath the floor. Human logic warned him that these instincts alone would not be enough to survive this place.
And the System… the System was quiet. Too quiet.
[System Notification – Dungeon Awareness: HIGH]
That was all. Nothing more.
Azer exhaled slowly. That, in itself, was an alert. The Hollow Throne didn't announce itself lightly.
He stepped forward, letting the shadows wrap around his body like a cloak. He moved carefully, each footfall deliberate, weighing not only the immediate threat but the possibilities hidden behind every rune-carved pillar.
Ahead, the corridor split.
To the left, darkness thickened as though it had weight, pressing against the edges of his vision. No light penetrated, not even the faint glow of the violet runes. His wolf instincts screamed: Go left. That's the path the dungeon expects no one to take.
To the right, the corridor glimmered faintly, runes glowing softly against the polished stone floor. Human reasoning said: The right path is safer. Maybe too safe.
Azer smiled thinly.
"I've never been good at doing what's expected," he muttered.
He chose left.
Immediately, the air thickened. The shadows seemed to stretch toward him, but not maliciously—curious, testing, gauging his reactions. He let them curl around his legs and arms, part of him embracing the instinctual flow of shadow that had always been half his nature.
The corridor curved downward, steps carved into the stone spiraling into near-complete darkness. Each echo of his movement seemed to multiply, sounds bouncing in patterns that made his head tilt with unease.
He spotted the first obstacle: a tripwire, invisible to the naked eye but detectable to someone with his hybrid senses. The wolfkin in him twitched at the faint hum of trapped energy.
He crouched, sliding forward like a ghost, ignoring the instinctive urge to rush. Step by step, he moved past it.
A whisper of light flickered in his vision. Not from the runes. Something else—something small, metallic, alive. He reached out, feeling the cold surface of a relic shard embedded in the wall.
[System Notification – Relic Detected]
Type: Minor Evolution Catalyst
Compatibility: Partial
Risk: Medium
He studied it, weighing the potential.
Azer had learned long ago that the System rewarded audacity—but punished arrogance. One wrong touch, one misstep, and he could lose more than life; he could lose himself.
He decided to take the risk.
The shard dissolved into his palm, its energy crawling up his arm like a live thing, whispering secrets he could almost understand. Shadow and lightning tingled in response, awakening in ways even he had not anticipated.
The corridor opened into a larger chamber. Pillars carved in grotesque shapes lined the edges, faces screaming silently from the stone. The floor was uneven, cracked, and littered with bones, some human, some… not.
A deep, resonant growl vibrated through the chamber.
Azer froze.
From the shadows, a creature emerged. Its form was humanoid but wrong: arms too long, legs bent at impossible angles, its head a smooth mask etched with violet runes. Its eyes—if they could be called eyes—glowed faintly as it studied him.
[System Identification Failed – Threat Level: LETHAL]
Azer allowed himself a small, wry grin.
"Fantastic," he muttered.
The creature lunged.
Azer's reflexes kicked in. Shadow swirled around his body as he disappeared from sight, stepping through the faint folds of darkness in a move he had perfected but rarely needed. When he reappeared, it was at the creature's flank.
He struck—lightning dancing along his arm as his blade carved deep into stone-flesh. Sparks erupted. The creature howled—not a sound of pain, but of awareness, of being struck in a way it had never experienced.
It swung its malformed arm. Azer rolled, feeling the wind tear past his ear. A shallow slice opened across his chest, stinging, but nothing life-threatening. He tasted iron in his mouth and grinned through the pain.
Shadow tendrils surged, wrapping around the creature's limbs, restricting its movement. He could feel the shard's energy reacting, enhancing his magic, feeding off his adrenaline.
This fight wasn't just survival—it was evolution.
Lightning surged inward, compressed, refined, and then erupted in a precise strike against the rune-etched chest. The creature collapsed, smoke rising from its form as the energy dissipated.
Azer dropped to one knee, catching his breath, shadows swirling and settling around him like a cloak once more.
[System Notification – Enemy Defeated]
XP Gained
Skill Proficiency Increased
A faint pulsing in his vision drew his attention upward. The chamber's ceiling had shifted subtly, runes aligning themselves into a pattern he could not ignore.
The Hollow Throne watched.