The atmosphere was tense, an unspoken hostility simmering in the group as they gathered at the labyrinthine entrance. Eyes burned holes into Lucien, his earlier remark about the recklessness of those who had perished ringing in their ears. Grief, frustration, and anger mingled in the air, but Lucien seemed immune to it all, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, inspecting his nails.
"You could at least pretend to care," Gale spat, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "They died trying to help us. Trying to save us."
"And they died because they were reckless," Lucien replied without so much as a glance in her direction. His voice was calm, sharp. "What part of this environment made you think this was some glorious playground? You're all too enamored with the idea of power, but let me remind you—this isn't your world. You don't belong here. Your shiny new powers don't make you invincible."
"That's enough," Logan growled, stepping forward. His fists were clenched, his muscular form taut with barely restrained fury.
Lucien finally looked up, his eyes cold and calculating. "No. It's not enough. You all need to hear this. This is the consequence of your hubris—death. If you can't handle that, go home."
"You're a smug little bastard," one of the other team leaders, Torin, snapped.
"I'm alive," Lucien said flatly. "And if you want to stay that way, you might consider listening to me."
Logan took a threatening step forward, only to have Hector's spear slam into the ground between them. "Enough!" Hector barked, his tone carrying the authority of a true leader. "This bickering isn't helping anyone. We have bigger problems."
The entrance was an unassuming stone wall, but it radiated an oppressive energy that made even the most experienced adventurers uneasy.
"We need to keep moving," Hector said, his voice steady but tense. "Lucien, you've got about five minutes to pull another miracle out of your bag of smugness, or we're moving without you."
Lucien didn't respond, already running his hands along the wall, his eyes darting across the carved symbols. The group exchanged wary glances as they watched him work.
"This feels like a waste of time," Torin muttered.
Gale sighed. "If it gets us out of here alive, it's worth it."
Lucien's hand paused on a section of the wall that seemed identical to the rest, except for a subtle indentation. "Found it," he said, pressing down.
The wall groaned as a hidden door slid open, revealing a dark corridor beyond.
"You're welcome," Lucien said, stepping aside.
"You're insufferable," Logan muttered, brushing past him.
The group filed into the corridor, its oppressive air closing around them. The walls were lined with stone figures, their lifeless eyes staring straight ahead.
"Is it just me, or are these statues too lifelike?" Valeri whispered, sticking close to Lucien.
"It's not just you," Gale replied, her fingers twitching near her weapon. "This whole place feels wrong."
As they moved deeper, the hallway seemed to stretch endlessly. The air grew heavier, the walls closing in. The once-steady footsteps turned hesitant, uncertain.
"Something's not right," Armand said, his voice low. "The proportions are changing."
"It's an illusion," Lucien said, his voice calm. "A trap designed to disorient us. Panic feeds it. Stay calm, and it loses its hold."
"Easy for you to say," Logan muttered. "You're probably enjoying this."
Lucien smirked. "I'd enjoy it more if you didn't sound like a frightened toddler."
Before Logan could retort, the first attack came. A statue sprang to life with a grinding screech, its jagged limbs swinging toward one of the teams. Chaos erupted as more statues animated, their movements slow but deliberate, their stone forms impervious to conventional weapons.
"They're alive!" someone shouted, their voice tinged with panic.
"No," Lucien corrected, dodging a swipe. "They're enchanted. There's a difference."
The hallway devolved into chaos as the group fought to defend themselves. Weapons clashed against stone, and spells lit up the dark corridor.
"Stay together!" Hector commanded, his spear whirling through the air, slicing clean through an attacking statue.
Despite his leadership, the group was fracturing. Panic took hold, and one team was quickly overwhelmed, dragged screaming into the shadows.
"They're herding us," Lucien muttered, his eyes scanning the chaos. "The statues—they're not attacking randomly."
"Great observation, genius!" Logan snapped, fending off another statue. "What do we do about it?"
Lucien's eyes locked onto a faint shimmer near the ceiling. Ignoring the danger, he climbed a nearby statue, balancing precariously on its shoulder.
"Are you insane?!" Gale shouted as another statue lunged for him.
"Always," Lucien replied, reaching out to touch the shimmer. The illusion shattered, revealing a hidden door.
"There," he said, jumping down. "Problem solved."
"Why does he have to be right all the time?" Valeri muttered, following the group toward the new passage.
The new chamber was vast and overgrown, vines and roots snaking across the ground. The air was thick with tension as glowing eyes appeared in the shadows—Crescent Beasts.
"They're real," Gale whispered, her voice trembling.
Two beasts emerged, their crescent-shaped horns gleaming under the faint light. Their movements were fluid, almost graceful, but their presence radiated danger.
"This is bad," Torin said, drawing his blade.
One beast lunged, and Hector met it head-on, his spear crackling with wind magic. The clash was explosive, the ground shaking beneath them.
The second beast circled, its eyes locked on Hector.
---
Hector's Brilliance and Armand's Precision
Hector fought like a storm, his spear a blur of motion. Wind howled with each strike, and his power forced the beast back, but it was relentless.
The group watched in awe as Hector demonstrated why he was an A+ adventurer. Every movement was calculated, every strike devastating.
But the fight was grueling. Hector's breath came in ragged gasps, his strength waning. The second beast saw its chance, leaping toward him.
An arrow whistled through the air, striking the beast between the eyes. It collapsed instantly, lifeless.
All eyes turned to Armand, who stood with his bow lowered, his expression calm.
"You're welcome," he said dryly.
Hector glanced at the fallen beast, then back at Armand. "Good timing."
Lucien smirked. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Before anyone could relax, more howls echoed through the chamber. The battle was far from over.
The air grew heavier with each passing moment, and the suffocating cries of the Crescent Beasts echoed in the sprawling chamber. The wave of creatures surged forward relentlessly, their numbers swelling to an almost endless tide. For every beast that fell, two more seemed to emerge from the suffocating shadows, their crescent-shaped horns glowing faintly in the dim light of the labyrinth.
Lucien stood alongside Hector, their movements precise and deliberate as they fought back the wave. Hector's spear was a blur of motion, accompanied by bursts of wind that sent the beasts staggering. Lucien, however, was careful, calculated. His movements seemed almost lazy, his strikes efficient but intentionally lacking the brilliance that might reveal his true capabilities.
The others struggled, their coordination faltering as panic began to seep in. The Crescent Beasts were not just numerous—they were cunning, flanking weaker members and exploiting any openings in the formations. The suffocating pressure in the air seemed to weigh on their minds as much as their bodies.
"They're endless!" Gale cried, slicing through one beast only to be forced back by another.
"Stay together!" Hector barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "If you lose formation, you're dead!"
Lucien glanced at Hector as he thrust his spear forward, the weapon glowing faintly as the wind itself seemed to come alive around him.
"Meta-level wind control," Lucien thought, his eyes narrowing. He turned his head slightly toward Valeri, his lips barely moving. "Pay attention to Hector. See how the wind bends to his will. It's not just strength—it's mastery."
Valeri stiffened at the telepathic communication but nodded subtly. His gaze shifted to Hector, watching the way the air rippled and how Hector's movements seamlessly controlled the battlefield.
Amid the chaos, a booming laugh cut through the oppressive atmosphere like a knife. A hulking figure stepped into view, wielding a blade that radiated authority. Harigold, Hector's trusted second-in-command and Logan's supposed mentor, moved with a confidence that seemed to calm the storm of battle.
"Having trouble, boy?" Harigold grinned, his voice rough and booming as he addressed Logan.
"Nothing I can't handle," Logan muttered, his blade cutting through another Crescent Beast.
"Good," Harigold replied, stepping forward. His weapon, the legendary Eleph Blade, gleamed under the dim light. It was a massive weapon, yet he wielded it with ease, its weight seemingly inconsequential in his hands.
The moment Harigold swung the blade, the air shifted. A visible ripple spread outward, and the surrounding Crescent Beasts staggered under an invisible force. Lucien's sharp eyes noticed how the weight of the blade wasn't just in the weapon itself but poured out into the environment, making it nearly impossible for anyone except Harigold to stand steady in its range.
"A testament to Henri's craftsmanship," Lucien murmured under his breath, his admiration genuine but hidden beneath a mask of indifference.
Harigold turned slightly, his eyes meeting Lucien's. For a brief moment, the two seemed to size each other up before Harigold gave a small nod and returned his focus to the fight.
As the wave continued, the discussion of weapons and their origins came to the forefront. Harigold's Eleph Blade wasn't just a weapon—it was a story, a legacy of Henri's genius and the resourcefulness of the Northeastern Kingdom.
Weapons, like the adventurers who wielded them, were tiered in strength and purpose. Most fighters used Assembly Tiered weapons—mass-produced tools of war, identifiable by their unique shapes, colors, and the sigils branded into them. These were reliable but lacked the individuality and power of higher-tier weapons.
For the elite, Tailored Weapons were the standard—crafted to the specifications of their wielders by skilled blacksmith groups. Guilds often maintained their own smiths, securing ore mines and raw materials to produce superior arms for their members.
But above these were the Rare Weapons, heirlooms enhanced through generations of mana infusion. These weapons, like Harigold's Eleph Blade, were testaments to their creators' brilliance, imbued with unique abilities that set them apart from the rest.
Lucien's thoughts drifted briefly to the ore that defined the Eleph Blade: Perilium, a substance with no definite weight, its properties determined entirely by its impurities. It was said that crafting anything with Perilium required mana inductors as limiters, tools that controlled its immense potential.
"Mana-infused ores," Lucien thought, sidestepping a Crescent Beast's swipe. "The lifeblood of the highest-tier weapons. Scorned Wood, Perilium, Void Crystals… each with its own story, its own power."
The focus shifted to the Crescent Beasts, who seemed to adapt to the group's attacks. Hector's mastery of wind was their strongest asset, but even he was beginning to show signs of strain.
"Meta-level control," Lucien observed, studying how Hector's wind bent and twisted to his will. At this level, the element wasn't just a tool—it was an extension of the user. The air itself seemed to belong to Hector, moving as if it were alive.
"Most never make it past Skilled," Lucien muttered. "To see Meta in action is… impressive."
Meta-level users could dominate the battlefield, their control extending to the surrounding environment. Binding-level users took it a step further, creating their own elements that couldn't be controlled by others. And then there was One—the pinnacle of elemental mastery, where the user became the element itself.
Lucien's thoughts returned to his own power, the flames that could burn even Scorned Wood. "Not yet," he thought, keeping his true strength hidden. "Not yet."
Despite their efforts, the Crescent Beasts continued to press forward. The suffocating pressure in the air grew worse, and the ground seemed to tremble under the weight of their numbers.
Another scream pierced the air as a member of one of the smaller teams was dragged down, his body vanishing into the swarm.
"Five down," Hector said grimly, his spear flashing as he struck another beast. "We can't keep this up."
"We won't have to," Lucien replied, his voice calm. His sharp eyes caught something in the distance—a shimmer, faint but distinct.
"Hector," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Direct your wind there."
Hector hesitated for only a moment before nodding. His spear whirled, and a blast of wind shot forward, striking the shimmer. The moment it hit, the air shifted, and the oppressive weight vanished.
"They were using the environment," Lucien explained. "An illusion. Without it, they'll be weaker."
Hector gave him a sharp look but nodded. "Good work."
---
Harigold's Warning
As the wave began to thin, Harigold approached, his Eleph Blade resting on his shoulder.
"This isn't over," he said, his voice low. "The beasts aren't the only ones watching us. Something bigger is pulling the strings."
Lucien met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Let them watch. It won't change the outcome."
Harigold chuckled, but his eyes were serious. "You're an interesting one, boy. Let's see if you live up to that arrogance."
Lucien smirked, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The suffocating wave might have passed, but the labyrinth held more secrets, more dangers. And he was determined to uncover them all.