After I held the broken glaive, a flood of thoughts rushed into my mind, overwhelming me. I turned back to face the knight. "I want to be strong. I want to stand at the top. Can you tell me how I can be as strong as you, sire?" I asked, using a formal tone, hoping my words would reach the knight, or at least make him hear my desperation.
Auron's cold gaze met mine, and his voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "You wish to be strong? You haven't done a single thing since you joined the group. They've done everything while you've just stood there."
His words hit me like a slap, but I didn't back down. "Yes... I can't gain any experience if I'm always in dungeons with groups who are of a higher rank. Tell me, is there a way for me to enter a gate... or a dungeon, alone?" I asked, lowering my head, groveling in front of his towering presence.
Auron's eyes bored into me as he turned his head to look down upon me. "I gave you my glaive, didn't I? Isn't that treasure enough to prove that you've cleared this place?" His tone was as cold as ever, but strangely, I wasn't afraid.
"I don't care about clearing this place," I spat, anger rising in my chest. "I want to get stronger! Didn't you hear me, or are you deaf?! I want to grow stronger. And I promise you—once I've grown, I'll take you down on my own! So, tell me—how do I get stronger?" I stood taller now, my voice trembling with conviction, but I refused to back down.
Auron seemed to pause, studying me with an unreadable expression. "Eager, aren't you?" He finally said, his tone slightly amused. "Very well then."
I stayed motionless as he approached, his boots ringing softly against the ground. With a swift motion, Auron threw something at my feet. I flinched but quickly reached down to pick it up. A dagger, crafted with a red blade that seemed to gleam with an otherworldly light. Its hilt was adorned with intricate symbols, and the blade was covered in strange, untranslatable text, even the system couldn't identify it. I held it in my hands, staring at it in awe.
"This dagger can create spaces. Spaces that are like dungeons. We use it as a training ground," Auron explained, his voice still icy. "Whatever is inside, you can hunt and fight there. But—" His gaze grew colder, "—if you can't gain strength for our rematch within three months, then it will be me and my order that will break through the gate."
A chill ran down my spine, but it wasn't fear I felt. It was a burning determination. I gripped the dagger tightly, feeling its strange energy hum beneath my fingers. This was my chance. My opportunity to grow. To stand on my own.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "I promise you… when we meet next, we will be equals."
I took a deep breath and walked away, the weight of the dagger in my hand now fueling me with purpose. This would be my path to power, and no matter what it took, I would rise to meet it.
I stood there, gripping the broken glaive in my hand, a rush of emotions flooding my chest. I stared at it for a long moment, feeling the weight of the weapon I had taken from the knight. His power was undeniable, but now it was mine to hold. Slowly, I turned and made my way to the gate, the dagger tucked safely in my pocket.
When I entered the gate, it closed behind me with a faint hum. Stepping back into my world, I found the Iron Bastion guild standing at the ready, preparing to head into the dungeon. A few of them glanced at me, but their attention was brief, their eyes quickly turning elsewhere as they went about their business.
I threw the broken glaive onto the ground with a heavy thud, trying to act nonchalant, as if I was at my breaking point. "I managed to break his weapon..." I muttered to myself, though I knew deep down it wasn't nearly as impressive as it seemed.
I pretended to be at my limit, allowing the weight of the moment to settle around me before I walked away. I didn't want anyone to linger on my actions, especially not Merika, who seemed to approach me from the corner of my eye. I didn't want to deal with her right now, not after everything that had happened. I simply turned and walked away, heading straight for my car.
I got in and drove away, the sound of the engine drowning out any lingering thoughts. After all, I was just an E-ranker. Nobody cared about me. The important thing was that the gate was closed, the world saved once again, and yet… something still gnawed at me.
Who was creating these gates? Who was behind it all?
I arrived back at my small apartment, the dull hum of the city outside the only sound accompanying me as I entered. Exhausted, I dropped my things by the door and sank into the chair. I ordered take-out—nothing too fancy, just something quick. I needed to relax.
As I sat, waiting for the food to arrive, I pulled out the Feyrel dagger. It caught the light in a way that made it almost mesmerizing. Its intricately designed blade glimmered with strange symbols, and I felt the pull of its potential. The system pinged, analyzing it for me.
[Analyzing... Feyrel Dagger A rare item that allows the creation of pocket spaces to test skills. This effect can be used in places that have a connection to dungeon-like environments. Examples include subways, which could transform into a cave with a long tunnel system, or any place tied to mythical stories.]
I read the system's analysis, a spark of excitement flickering in my chest. I had something powerful now—something that could allow me to grow stronger. The subway, perhaps? That wasn't a bad idea. There were stories about abandoned underground tunnels, forgotten myths about caverns below the city.
I couldn't help but feel the pull of the unknown. This dagger could be my key to becoming stronger. It was all about finding the right places to test it, to hone my skills.
As the food arrived, I absentmindedly began eating, my mind drifting to the possibilities. I needed to rest, but I couldn't shake the thought of the dagger—and of the gates. Who or what was behind this? Why were they being opened, and what did they want?
I sighed, wiping my mouth with a napkin as I finished my meal. I thought back to the weekly quest.
[Weekly Quest: Completed!]
It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. My thoughts, though, were still swirling around the mystery of the gates and the figure behind them. There was something bigger at play, and I would find out what it was—one way or another.
The night stretched on, but I knew that tomorrow I would be one step closer to finding the truth.
After a long, relaxing bath, I set to work cleaning my apartment. It took hours, but I was determined to erase the chaos that had accumulated over time. Trash bags piled up, and when I opened the windows to let in the fresh air, I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. The place felt cleaner, brighter.
But as I looked around, I couldn't help but feel that the only trash left in the apartment was... me. I'd let my life get messy, but that was about to change.
With that thought, I went to sleep, the weight of the day lifting from my shoulders.
The next morning, I jumped straight into my work clothes, not wasting any time. I needed to get things done. I immediately tackled the daily quest, which felt easier than before. The hellish workout was still a challenge, but my body seemed to be adapting. I even felt lighter, like I was growing stronger. Wait... had I gotten taller?
I shook the thought out of my head. It was just my imagination. Or was it? I didn't have time to dwell on it.
Once the workout was done, I grabbed my sword, still feeling the slight weight of it in my hand. I placed it into the system window, and as I was about to head out to test the dagger, I got a notification.
[You have entered your weapon into the system inventory. Would you like to name the weapon for easier access?]
Name it? Hmm, I thought to myself. What name would be fitting for the sword? There was only one choice that made sense in the moment.
"Hubris," I said aloud.
[Naming successful. Your corrupted enhanced sword has been named 'Hubris'.]
It felt right. Hubris. The sword, with its twisted power, would live up to its name. I was sure of it.
I left my apartment, the streets bustling around me, but my mind was focused. I got in my car and headed to the old part of Caldrian City—the abandoned area that had been ravaged by a dungeon break three years ago. The city had been sealed off, but there were rumors of forgotten spaces, hidden entrances, and areas untouched by time.
I parked in front of the old subway entrance, one of the places that had been left behind when everything collapsed. The memories of the dungeon break were still fresh in people's minds, but there was something about this place that called to me.
I walked up to the entrance and took out the Feyrel dagger. The moment the blade made contact with the sealed entrance, it felt like I had stabbed through a layer of water. A soft blue glow enveloped the tip of the dagger, and before my eyes, the entrance to the subway began to shimmer and fade away, revealing an opening that had been hidden for years.
It was as if the place had never been sealed at all. A passageway opened before me—another world within my reach.
I took a deep breath, feeling both excitement and fear. This was my chance. This was the beginning of something new.
And with that, I stepped into the darkness beyond.
The subway stretched out before me like a vast, eerie labyrinth. The walls were coated in layers of grime and age, but the faint blue glow from the Feyrel dagger illuminated the path ahead, casting long, distorted shadows. The silence was broken only by the occasional echo of dripping water or the distant hum of the city's forgotten machinery. Every step I took felt heavier, as if the place was alive, watching me, waiting for me to make my move.
I descended the stairs into the depths, my footsteps light but cautious. The air was stale, thick with the scent of mold and decay. The once-bustling subway station had long since fallen into ruin. What had been a vibrant network of transport had become a dungeon, a dark, forgotten world in its own right. The walls were cracked, the railings rusted, and the signs—well, the ones that hadn't been obliterated—were faded, barely readable. A sense of foreboding filled the air, and I knew that what lay ahead wasn't just some ordinary dungeon.
"Hubris," I muttered under my breath. The blade appeared in my hand, its weight comforting against my grip. The sword had a strange warmth to it, a fire that simmered just beneath the surface. It was ready.
As I crept deeper into the station, the silence felt like it was pressing against me, suffocating me with its stillness. Then, suddenly, a loud, wet squelch echoed from ahead. The unmistakable sound of something… large moving. I paused, listening carefully.
From the dark recesses of the corridor ahead, I saw it—a massive blob, pulsating and wriggling. A giant slime. It was feasting on a destroyed ATM machine, its gelatinous body absorbing whatever it could, growing larger with every gulp. It was the type of monster that hunters could laugh at—low-tier, easily dealt with—nothing more than a nuisance.
But as I took a step forward, I suddenly heard a strange sound—a cracking noise. I barely had time to react as a gooey, oversized fist shot toward me with frightening speed.
"What the hell?!" I thought in shock.
Before I could even blink, the force of the punch sent me crashing backward into the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of me, and for a moment, everything spun. I gritted my teeth and pushed myself back onto my feet, feeling the sharp sting in my ribs.
The slime had… punched me. With enough force to send me flying. That was no regular slime. Something was off about this one.
I straightened up, shaking off the disorientation, my eyes locking on the creature's form. The slime, undeterred, reared back and, in a fluid motion, swung another massive fist in my direction. It moved faster now, more precisely. As the gooey limb barreled toward me, I instinctively lowered my body, narrowly avoiding the punch by inches. My heart raced.
Now that was more like it. This slime was different.
I pushed off the ground, activating [Dash], using the momentum to propel myself forward. The golden energy from my sword, Hubris, flared to life, swirling around the blade like a golden flame. The energy crackled as it wrapped around the weapon, glowing with intense, searing light. My body felt empowered by it, the energy flowing through me as if the sword itself was pushing me forward.
With every step, the golden aura intensified, infusing my body and enhancing my speed. I slashed at the slime, my strike infused with the burning energy of Flame's Embrace. The blade cut through the gelatinous mass, leaving a trail of golden light in its wake. The golden energy rippled through the slime's form, burning away at its very core, searing the gelatinous monster from the inside.
The slime hissed in pain, its form trembling violently before it finally split in two with an almost comical squelch.
The aftermath was unsettling. The two halves of the slime didn't fall apart; instead, they began to melt, oozing into the cracks of the subway floor, leaving only a faint, sticky residue behind. The echoes of its demise reverberated through the dark tunnel.
[Congratulations... You have slain Slime.]
I took a deep breath, the adrenaline still coursing through me. That fight had been close. The slime had been stronger, faster, and more unpredictable than I expected. It wasn't like any other low-tier monster I had fought before.
I stood there for a moment, my sword still crackling with golden energy, as I surveyed the subway around me. The remnants of the battle smeared across the floor. I wasn't sure what I had just stepped into, but this place was far from normal. The subway, now transformed into a dungeon, seemed like a living, breathing thing. The walls were scarred, the tracks twisted into unnatural shapes, and the tunnels stretched into endless darkness, impossible to track.
As I caught my breath, I felt something shift in the air. The dungeon was alive with potential—monsters, treasures, challenges. It was a place designed to test. And I was just getting started.
With a quick look at the Feyrel dagger in my hand, I set my jaw, ready to move forward. The path wasn't going to be easy, but I had one goal in mind—get stronger. I had made a promise to myself, and now, it was time to fulfill it.
The subway, with all its secrets, would be my training ground.
After I looked at the melting slime, something incredible caught my eye—a Corrupted Flowstone embedded in the goo. The faint, dark glow of the stone shimmered ominously. It wasn't just any stone—it was a powerful, rare item I could use to enhance my mana reserves. I reached down and carefully took hold of it, feeling the coldness of its surface as it pulsed with corrupt energy.
Without hesitation, I turned to the System and asked:
"I want to use this Flowstone to adjust my mana reserves."
[System: "To adjust your mana using Corrupted Mana Stones, you must insert it into your body."]
A chill ran through me at the thought. This wasn't a simple process. Flowstones were known for their powerful, often dangerous properties. They could amplify mana reserves, but using one, especially a corrupted one, meant taking a risk. Still, I had to push forward—this was the path to becoming stronger.
I closed my eyes, steeling myself, and without further thought, I swallowed the Corrupted Flowstone whole. Immediately, my insides screamed in agony.
The energy from the Flowstone surged through my body, consuming me. It was as if my veins were on fire, my muscles being ripped apart from the inside. My vision blurred and darkened, filled with a swirling, pulsating red and black. I could feel the stone's dark, negative energy spreading through me, forcing its way into every fiber of my being.
"Ugh! AGH!! W-what is happening?!" I screamed, the pain almost too much to bear. My ears rang with a high-pitched buzzing sound that seemed to grow louder with each passing second.
I felt like my body was being torn to pieces. But even amidst the agony, there was no turning back now. I had to endure. I had to grow stronger.
Then, as quickly as the pain had arrived, it started to fade. The twisting, agonizing sensation receded, and my vision cleared. My head was still swimming, but the unbearable pain was gone. I staggered, breathing heavily, my body trembling from the aftermath.
I quickly checked my Mana Stats through the System.
[System: "Mana increased from 5 to 50."]
I blinked, my eyes widening as I stared at the notification. My mana reserves had gone from 5 to 50—a massive increase in a short time. The pain had been excruciating, but it had been worth it.
I took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from my brow. "God... Thank God, at last. The mana plan is done now."
I felt the power coursing through my veins, the energy more potent than before. This was the first step, and now I had the strength I needed to keep pushing forward. There was still much more to achieve.
Continuing down through the dimly lit tunnels, I tightened my grip on Hubris, its blade still cloaked in the golden energy of Flame's Embrace. The faint hum of power reassured me, but it didn't make the situation any less tense. Ahead, the sounds of movement echoed faintly—slimes. Another group, just like the one I had fought earlier. Only this time, there were several of them.
I steadied myself and dashed forward, using [Dash] to close the distance in an instant. My blade swung with precision, severing the gooey limbs that lashed out at me. The slimes reacted sluggishly at first, but their attacks soon became more coordinated, harder to predict. Their gelatinous bodies rippled as if communicating. I adjusted my stance, slashing rapidly to disable their offense, severing the arms they extended to strike me.
But then, something unexpected happened. A tendril of goo wrapped around my ankle and yanked me off my feet, slamming me hard into the ground. The air was forced from my lungs, and my vision blurred for a moment.
"Wh… What? Where did that come from?" I muttered, disoriented. Looking down, I saw a smaller slime reforming from the remnants of one I had just killed.
"Of course… They can regenerate."
I scrambled to my feet, my body aching, and conjured a Firebolt, hurling it at the small slime. The burst of flame consumed it instantly, leaving nothing behind but a faint scorch mark. The larger slimes recoiled, visibly hesitant to approach the fire. I didn't waste the opportunity, moving forward with calculated strikes. My sword danced in golden arcs, tearing through the remaining slimes until they were no more.
Finally, the tunnel fell silent. I rested against the damp wall, catching my breath. As I scanned the area, I noticed a cluster of Flowstones left behind by the slimes. Picking them up, I marveled at their faint glow and the promise of more strength.
---
[Congratulations! You have leveled up to Level 4!]
[Rewards:]
Full Recovery
+20 Stat Points
Swordsmanship: Level 4
Dash: Level 2
Flame's Embrace: Level 2
Lesser Flame Manipulation: Level 2
---
I didn't waste a second in spending the stat points. Strength and endurance were my priorities—I needed to hit harder and last longer in battle. My agility seemed fine for now. With my adjustments complete, I felt stronger, sturdier, and more prepared for what lay ahead.
Suddenly, another system window appeared.
---
[The System has found your method of gaining strength remarkable. Would you like the System to replicate the power of the Feyrel Dagger and turn it into a built-in function?]
[Yes] [No]
---
"What kind of question is this? Of course, I want to get stronger!" I pressed [Yes] without hesitation. The window shifted, showing what looked like a download bar.
"Downloading? Really?" I muttered, shaking my head. I dismissed the window and pressed onward, determined to see what lay deeper in this strange pocket dungeon.
The deeper I went, the fewer slimes appeared. They thinned out gradually until I found myself in an abandoned train station. The platform stretched out before me, littered with debris and rusted remnants of forgotten times. A tunnel extended beyond the platform, its tracks disappearing into the shadows.
"So, this is still a subway after all," I said to myself, leaping down onto the tracks. The air was thick and musty, and my steps echoed loudly as I dashed toward the next encounter. My senses were on high alert, my anticipation growing with each step.
And then, I heard it—a low, guttural groan that sent a shiver down my spine. Ahead, a horde of zombies emerged from the darkness, their bodies clad in rusted armor and wielding decayed weapons. Among them, one stood out—a massive zombie orc, towering over the others, with a crude axe in its hand. Its hollow, glowing eyes locked onto me, and a primal roar escaped its decayed throat.
My eyes widened—not in fear, but in excitement.
"Finally… A real challenge," I said, gripping Hubris tightly as I prepared for the fight ahead.
As I gripped Hubris tightly, the golden energy from Flame's Embrace still enveloping the blade, I took a moment to size up the horde of armor-clad zombies shuffling toward me. Their decayed bodies, clad in rusted plate, groaned with the weight of their rotting flesh. With my enhanced Swordsmanship and newly improved Lesser Flame Manipulation, an idea sparked in my mind.
Focusing on the blade, I poured my mana into it, weaving the energy of Flame's Embrace with the fire magic I now controlled. The blade ignited, flames licking up its length until it erupted into a blazing inferno. The golden energy and crimson fire swirled together in a mesmerizing dance of destruction.
"Coincidence... or am I just that stupid? I don't care. It works, and that's what matters," I muttered, my voice trembling with anticipation.
Fueled by ambition and a desire to grow stronger, I surged forward into the horde. The flaming blade cut through them like a scythe through wheat. Their rusted armor softened and melted under the intense heat, and the oily, dark-red blood that sprayed from their bisected bodies stained the tracks beneath my feet. One by one, the undead fell, their groans and shrieks silenced as their bodies were reduced to smoldering heaps.
In what felt like moments, I had slaughtered a third of the horde. The platform was now littered with twisted, burning remains, the air thick with the acrid stench of charred flesh and melting metal.
But then, all that remained was the zombie orc. Its towering form loomed over me, its grotesque features twisted into a permanent snarl. The monstrous creature let out a deafening roar that echoed through the tunnels, the vibrations rattling the tracks beneath my feet.
"I don't care," I growled, my grip on Hubris tightening. "I don't care at all! Come at me, you fucker!"
The orc charged, its massive axe raised high. Each swing was wide and devastating, the weapon cleaving through the air with terrifying force. But its movements were slow and predictable. I dodged the first swing, leaping backward, the wind of its attack brushing past me. The ground cracked under the weight of its strikes, but I refused to relent.
As my feet touched the ground, a memory flashed through my mind—Merika, her flawless form and technique during a training session. Mimicking her stance, I lowered my body, coiled my strength into my legs, and launched myself forward with every ounce of power I could muster. The impact of the release propelled me like a missile, the sheer force causing a shockwave that rattled the tunnel walls.
"Scorching Surge Splash!" I shouted, cringing at the ridiculous name but too focused to care.
Hubris ignited several times over, the flames roaring to life as the blade collided with the orc's armor. The intense heat melted the metal instantly, the flames eating away at the creature's decayed flesh. In a single, fluid motion, I landed behind the orc, my blade still burning bright.
For a moment, the orc stood motionless. Then, its body erupted in intense reddish-purple flames, the fire consuming it from the inside out. It let out one final, guttural roar before collapsing into a smoldering heap.
[Congratulations! You have leveled up!]
[Congratulations! You have leveled up!]
[Congratulations! You have leveled up!]
Panting, I stood amidst the carnage, my body trembling from the adrenaline. I stared at the flaming remains of the orc, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.
"I'll be damned…" I whispered. "I'm getting stronger."
As the remnants of the orc's blazing body crumbled to the ground, a familiar chime echoed in my ears.
[Congratulations! You have reached Level 7!]
A wave of warmth coursed through my body, leaving me reinvigorated. My breathing slowed, and I felt my muscles tighten, stronger than before. The system window popped up in front of me, detailing the rewards of my hard-fought battle.
[Rewards for Level Advancement:]
Stat Points Gained: 60
Skill Advancements:
Swordsmanship: Level 5 → Level 6
Proficient in precise and advanced combat techniques. Increased attack speed and accuracy.
Flame's Embrace: Level 2 → Level 3
The golden energy empowering your weapon lasts longer, dealing 15% more damage.
Lesser Flame Manipulation: Level 2 → Level 3
Flames can now be manipulated at mid-range with greater precision. Increased control over shape and intensity.
Dash: Level 2 → Level 3
Improved agility and reduced stamina consumption. Dash now leaves a faint afterimage.
Special Reward for Reaching Level 7:
[Skill Unlocked: Ignite Field]
Description: Temporarily engulf a designated area in golden flames, causing continuous damage over time to enemies within and reducing their movement speed.
Mana Cost: Moderate
Cooldown: 3 minutes
The window flickered as another message appeared:
[Note:] Progression to Level 10 will unlock new tiered abilities and grant access to the next system functionality. Keep growing stronger to uncover the system's full potential.]
---
I closed the window, my hands still trembling as I looked down at Hubris, its blade shimmering faintly in the aftermath of the fight. A grin tugged at my lips.
"This is it," I muttered to myself, my voice tinged with both exhaustion and excitement. "I'm getting closer. Just a little more…"
I sheathed Hubris, feeling a strange connection to the sword. With my new abilities, the possibilities seemed endless, and for the first time, I felt as if I was truly making progress. There was still a long road ahead, but at least now, I wasn't just standing still.
Arlen sat on the corpse of the orc, sweat dripping from his brow as the last remnants of the intense battle lingered in the air. His breathing was heavy, but a triumphant grin spread across his face. "That was a rush," he muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. With a deep breath, he summoned his stat window, eager to allocate the points he'd earned.
His fingers hovered over the holographic display as he carefully distributed the 60 points:
Strength: 35
Agility: 30
Endurance: 33
Mana: 60
He nodded to himself, satisfied with the balance he'd struck. "This should do the trick," he said proudly, clenching his fist. Standing, he sheathed Hubris but couldn't ignore a strange gnawing sensation at the back of his mind. A hunger. A desire for more. He couldn't place it, but it burned faintly, just out of reach—a craving that seemed to swell with each victory. He shook it off for now and began walking deeper into the dungeon.
Midway through the corridor, Arlen paused, his thoughts snapping to the three Flowstones he'd collected earlier. "The Flowstones," he murmured, reaching into his pouch. The smooth, glowing stones rested in his palm, pulsing faintly with an inner light. A grin crept across his face. "System," he called, "I'd like to spend these Flowstones to enhance Hubris."
In an instant, the system interface materialized before him.
[Taking another 3 Flowstones into the 'Hubris' will cause the blade to change to fit its new level. It will gain an attack power of +100 and receive a unique skill (random). Are you sure you want to upgrade Hubris?]
The options flickered before him: [Yes] [No].
Without hesitation, he pressed Yes. "Of course I'm sure," he muttered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
As soon as the selection was made, the Flowstones dissolved into tiny motes of light, which were drawn into the blade. Hubris began to vibrate in his grasp, emitting a low hum. Then, out of nowhere, an old, tattered fabric appeared and wrapped itself tightly around the blade, concealing it from view. The sight was both mesmerizing and unnerving.
[Hubris is undergoing reconstruction. Please wait.]
The system window updated again, its text taking on a faint glow:
[Hubris, a blade always bonded with Flame's Embrace, is now adapting fully to its fire attribute...]
As Arlen watched the process unfold, another window popped up unexpectedly:
[Will you sacrifice Lesser Flame Manipulation Lvl 3 to make the fire attribute a permanent element of the blade?]
[Yes] [No]
Arlen blinked, taken aback. Sacrifice one of his skills? The decision gave him pause, but only for a moment. "Losing a skill to strengthen the blade…" He weighed the thought in his mind, then smirked. "I don't even use it that much. Why not?"
With renewed confidence, he hit Yes.
The moment he confirmed the choice, the fabric around the blade burst into flames, burning away to reveal the reforged Hubris. The sword was pristine, gleaming as if it had been freshly forged. Its blade was a dull gold, with fiery crimson veins running along the center, faintly glowing as if alive. The hilt remained practical yet refined, the blackened steel wrapped in leather. At the pommel, a small, rough gem gleamed—a ruby-like core that radiated faint heat. The weapon now exuded a subtle, intimidating presence.
Arlen held it up, marveling at the transformation. "Beautiful," he muttered, testing the weight. It felt lighter, swifter, and brimming with potential. "Looks like the system didn't disappoint."
As he lowered the blade, his gaze turned down the darkened tunnel ahead, the hunger for growth simmering stronger than ever. His lips curled into a determined grin. "Let's see what this new Hubris can do."
Arlen took a moment to catch his breath, his new Hubris glowing faintly in the dim tunnel, its fiery veins pulsating with life. The oppressive darkness around him seemed endless, and the cold damp air made his skin prickle with goosebumps. Yet, none of it fazed him. Determination burned brighter than the ominous shadows clinging to the walls, and his grip on Hubris was firm. He pressed forward.
The tunnels stretched on until he came upon a scene that stopped him in his tracks. Two massive centipedes loomed ahead, grotesque and monstrous. One of them was feasting on a massive colony of slimes, their gelatinous bodies dissolving as the centipede's mandibles tore through them. The other creature was coiled around the corpses of fallen orcs, its elongated body squeezing the life out of the bloodied remains as it sucked them dry. The chitinous plates covering their bodies gleamed dully in the faint light of the tunnel, forming a natural armor. However, their segmented lower bodies seemed less protected, leaving a possible opening for attack.
Arlen crouched, staying in the shadows as he observed the creatures. Their movements were deliberate, their sheer size making them formidable. Sharp mandibles clicked together menacingly, and their long, whip-like tails lashed about, carving grooves into the ground. "No special attributes… just raw size and power," he muttered under his breath. Satisfied with his observations, he decided there was no point in waiting any longer.
Taking a deep breath, Arlen stepped out of the shadows, unsheathing Hubris with a deliberate motion. The blade emitted a faint, fiery glow, illuminating the immediate area. As he walked forward, he dragged the tip of the sword against the iron tracks beneath his feet, the metallic screech echoing through the tunnel. The sound cut through the air like a warning bell, instantly drawing the attention of the centipedes.
The creatures hissed and turned toward him, their multi-faceted eyes locking onto their new prey. Their massive bodies began to slither toward him with surprising speed, mandibles snapping in anticipation. Arlen stood his ground, his gaze unflinching. The heat from Hubris radiated up his arm, but instead of discomfort, it gave him a sense of power.
"Reduce everything to ash... Hubris," Arlen intoned, his voice steady and commanding.
At his command, an inferno erupted from the blade in a wide cone in front of him. The flames surged forward, roaring with intensity as they engulfed the centipedes. Their shrieks filled the tunnel, high-pitched and ear-piercing, as their bodies writhed in pain. The flames danced along their armored exteriors, blackening the once-glistening carapace. However, Arlen felt the sharp drain on his mana. His chest tightened, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. "Hubris sure takes a lot more than I remember," he thought, gritting his teeth against the strain.
One of the centipedes began to falter, its movements erratic as it thrashed about in a desperate attempt to extinguish the flames. Arlen seized the moment. With a quick breath, he tightened his grip on Hubris and shifted into a piercing stance. The heat from the blade intensified as he focused his mana, the golden veins on the sword glowing like molten metal.
In a flash, he activated [Dash], propelling himself forward like a streak of fire. Hubris met the centipede's burning body, slicing through its chitinous armor as though it were mere paper. The blade's searing edge left a trail of smoldering embers in its wake as the creature's body split apart. Its shrieks were cut short as it collapsed into a lifeless heap.
The second centipede wasn't so quick to fall. Though weakened, its frenzied movements became even more unpredictable. It lashed out with its tail, the force of the blow cracking the wall behind Arlen as he narrowly evaded it. Rolling to his feet, Arlen's eyes burned with resolve. "I've grown a lot… but it's not enough. Auron, just wait for me," he muttered under his breath, his mind already imagining the next battle.
Raising Hubris high, he focused the last of his mana reserves. Intense flames gushed from the guard of the blade, swirling upward in a vortex of fiery energy. "Die…" Arlen growled, his voice low and menacing. He pushed forward, his fiery blade carving through the air with the force of his will.
"Melting Surge Slash!"
Hubris crashed down on the centipede, the heat and power of the strike igniting its body in a burst of reddish-purple flames. The creature writhed violently, its agonized shrieks distorted and warped as the intense heat consumed it. Smoke and the acrid stench of burning flesh filled the air, but Arlen didn't flinch. He held his ground, watching as the monstrous centipede collapsed in a fiery heap.
As the second creature fell silent, Arlen lowered his blade, the flames flickering out as his mana reserves dipped dangerously low. He stood there amidst the carnage, the heat of the battle still lingering in the air. His chest heaved, and his mind raced. A faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I'm getting stronger," he whispered, his voice filled with both pride and determination. "But it's still not enough."
The distant sound of metal creaking echoed throughout the cavernous subway depot. The rusted, old wagons and trains loomed like forgotten relics, shrouded in shadows. A faint chill ran down Arlen's spine, his grip tightening around Hubris as he descended the staircase. He had faced many foes in the dark recesses of these tunnels, but something about this place—something in the air—felt different. As his boots hit the cold, metallic ground, the system's notification pinged in his mind: "Possible Boss Room Detected."
Great. Another one of these… Arlen thought bitterly, his lips curling into a grimace. He had hoped for something more—a challenge, perhaps, or a worthy prize—but the anticipation he had once felt was now waning. His body, still pumped with adrenaline from his previous battle, was tired of just surviving.
It wasn't until he saw the hulking figure move that his attention snapped back to the present. In front of him stood a being taller than any man, draped in rusted, metallic armor that seemed more suited to a medieval knight than any modern-day security officer. His massive, heavily plated form reminded Arlen of a long-forgotten guardian, left to rot in this subway prison. A faded nameplate on the figure's chest read "Warden of the Abandoned Station."
"Well, this is certainly new," Arlen muttered to himself, eyes narrowing. The system notification popped up once more: "Warden of the Abandoned Station has noticed your presence."
The Warden's head shifted with a mechanical hiss, and in an almost unnerving fluid motion, he grabbed a large, iron pole embedded in the ground. It was a pole, yes, but it seemed to have the heft of a sledgehammer or battering ram. His fingers wrapped around it with ease, the metallic groan of his joints barely audible in the eerie silence.
"This is it," Arlen thought, already pulling Hubris from its sheath. The faint golden glow that surrounded the blade from the Flame's Embrace faded as he stepped into his battle stance. His heart was pounding, his thoughts razor-sharp.
"Bring it on, you fucking dipshit," Arlen growled, his words fueled by the ego that burned within him. His eyes locked with the Warden's dull, lifeless gaze, a strange sense of excitement beginning to build. This wasn't just some random monster; this was a guardian. A boss. And Arlen wasn't about to back down.
"Well, c'mon. I'm waiting," Arlen taunted, his confidence rising.
The Warden's motionless figure suddenly shifted, the metallic grinding of his joints echoing through the air. Without warning, the ground beneath Arlen's feet erupted. Spikes, sharp and jagged, shot upward from the tracks, aimed directly at him. The instant the spikes emerged from the metal, they gleamed with a deadly edge, and Arlen instinctively shifted his trajectory, rolling to the side just in time.
The spikes shot past, grazing his side with the force of a gust of wind. Pain flared as one managed to catch his arm, drawing a line of crimson across his skin, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Arlen rolled away, his chest heaving, and he scowled. "Tsk. You're not like the rest I've encountered."
Holding Hubris firmly in his hands, he took a step back, his eyes locking with the Warden's. "Well then, come to me instead!"
The Warden's glowing, dead eyes flickered with life as a low, resonating roar bellowed from its chest. The sound reverberated through the depot like a war cry from another age. Arlen felt his blood race at the challenge, his fists tightening on his sword.
Suddenly, the spikes that had risen from the tracks began to melt, liquefying into a dark, viscous substance. The molten spikes reshaped themselves into smaller versions of the Warden—moving, living creatures made entirely of iron and metal. There were five in total, their forms resembling twisted, distorted versions of the Warden's hulking body. Each of them wielded a thick, jagged iron bar, just like their master.
"So that's how you want to play it," Arlen mused to himself, analyzing the situation. Five of them? Not a problem. But there was something different about these minions. Their eyes weren't lifeless; they burned with a malicious intent, as if the Warden controlled them through sheer willpower.
Without hesitation, Arlen activated his skills. "Activate skill... ignite field!" A vibrant golden aura expanded outward from him, surrounding the area in a 50-foot radius. The ground itself seemed to pulse with energy, and Arlen grinned as he watched the minions stagger back, their bodies starting to sizzle from the golden heat that radiated from the ground. Their health bars began to tick down slowly, each one losing a fraction of its vitality as they struggled to move through the ignited space.
But Arlen wasn't finished. "Activate Flame's Embrace!"
Hubris began to glow with a faint golden hue, its flame-like aura dancing around the blade. Arlen dashed forward, closing the distance between him and the nearest minion in a blur of speed. His sword cut through the air with precision, slicing through one of the minions' iron bodies like it was butter. Sparks flew as the blade connected with the creature's torso, the searing heat of Hubris turning the minion's form into a twisted heap of molten metal.
The other four minions roared in fury, rushing at Arlen from all directions. The Warden, standing at the back, grunted as he gripped his iron pole with both hands, watching his creations advance.
Arlen, however, was unfazed. His golden aura swirled around him, dancing with the energy of the field he had summoned. He sliced through the next minion with ease, the creature's barbed weapon clashing against his blade only to be melted away by the scorching flames.
"You're not even worth my time," Arlen muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he faced the remaining minions.
But just as he was about to strike again, the ground shook, and a loud mechanical groan filled the air. The Warden's large form moved, his eyes blazing with fury. With a violent roar, the Warden swung his pole, sending shockwaves through the air. Arlen barely managed to leap backward in time, narrowly avoiding the strike that would have shattered his ribs.
"This is gonna be fun," Arlen said to himself, his grin widening as his adrenaline spiked. He raised Hubris above his head, feeling the golden aura surge with power. "Time to end this."
But the Warden wasn't finished yet.
As Arlen prepared for the next strike, the Warden slammed the ground with his pole once more, sending spikes shooting from the track, aiming for Arlen's legs. Arlen reacted quickly, dashing sideways with a burst of speed. As the ground erupted beneath him, he saw his opening—Hubris glowed brightly in his hand as he prepared for his next move.
"Let's finish this," he growled, his voice filled with confidence and the burning desire to destroy whatever came in his way.
And with that, he rushed forward once more, his sword cutting through the air with newfound fury, determined to break the Warden's defenses and claim his victory.
But the fight was far from over.
The air in the abandoned subway depot was thick with tension. Arlen could feel his heart racing in his chest as he prepared to end the fight. He knew that this would be the final strike. He raised Hubris, the fiery blade glowing with the power of Flame's Embrace, and with a mighty roar, he lunged at the Warden. The ground trembled beneath his feet, his every muscle coiled in anticipation. This ends now, he thought, his focus narrowing to the Warden's large, looming figure.
But as the blade connected with the Warden's armored body, something utterly unexpected happened—nothing. Hubris struck with all the force Arlen could muster, but the Warden didn't flinch. Not a single scratch marred the surface of its rusted armor. The heat of the blade seemed to dissipate against the thick, impenetrable metal.
"H-huh?!" Arlen exclaimed in disbelief, his body thrown off balance by the lack of resistance. His eyes widened as he realized his mistake, but it was already too late. The Warden, its dull eyes flickering with malice, swung the massive iron pole with terrifying speed.
Arlen barely had time to react before the pole slammed into his side with bone-crushing force. There was a sickening crack as several of his ribs shattered. The impact sent him soaring through the air, his body crashing into the stairs he had just descended.
"Guuuh!!" Arlen gasped, pain radiating through his body like wildfire. He struggled to push himself up, but his vision blurred with agony, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. His pride, his burning ego, shattered in an instant. I… I actually thought I could end this quickly?
The Warden stood tall and unyielding, watching Arlen from where he lay. The colossal creature raised its pole again, and this time, it slammed it into the ground with an earth-shaking impact. As the pole struck, the very ground beneath Arlen seemed to come alive. Spikes—sharpened and deadly—erupted from the tracks once more, this time with blinding speed.
"NO!" Arlen screamed in pain as he tried to push himself up, but the spikes were too fast. He felt the sharp points pierce through the soles of his boots and into his feet. His legs buckled under him as a new wave of pain surged through his body. The world spun as the spikes impaled him, and a primal scream tore from his throat. Blood pooled around his feet, dripping down into the cracks of the metal floor.
The Warden didn't stop. In a blink, it vanished from its original position, reappearing directly beside Arlen with the grace of a predator closing in on its prey. The impact of the Warden's arrival sent a shockwave through the air, and the wind that followed it slapped into Arlen with the force of a crashing wave. The blast threw him backward, slamming him into the debris-littered ground with enough force to rattle his very bones. His body crumpled, the air knocked from his lungs. His vision swirled, black spots dancing at the edges of his sight.
"All... talk... no... bite," the Warden intoned coldly, its voice an eerie, hollow echo. The creature loomed over him, its once-imposing pole discarded to the side as it slowly approached Arlen, its footfalls heavy and deliberate.
Arlen could barely register the Warden's words, let alone respond. His body screamed in agony, the pain more intense than anything he had felt in this dungeon so far. It was different this time—this wasn't just some monster. No, this was the real deal. A powerful, relentless force that was slowly grinding him down.
With effort, Arlen gritted his teeth and pushed himself to one knee. The pain in his chest was unbearable. The broken ribs… he could feel them moving with every breath. His left foot was pinned to the ground, spikes still embedded deep in his heel and sole, but the fire within him—his desire to fight—refused to let him lie down.
I can't let this be the end, he thought to himself. I'm not done yet.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, using Hubris as leverage, though every movement felt like dragging his body through molten lava. The Warden didn't pause in its advance. It was coming for him, its massive frame casting a shadow over Arlen. But just as it closed the gap, Arlen remembered something—the minions. The minions created from the spikes.
From the Warden's side, the spikes began to reform once more. The molten iron forms began to rise from the ground like twisted statues, reassembling into the same grotesque, monstrous figures. Some of them were covered in blood—Arlen's blood—from the previous battle, giving them a sinister, red sheen. These minions had been a part of the Warden's attack, and now they were ready to finish the job.
"There's no way I can take them all on at once," Arlen thought desperately. He couldn't just keep fighting the Warden alone—he needed to take care of these smaller threats before they overwhelmed him.
But his body… it ached so much. The thought of fighting on, of continuing, seemed impossible. And yet… Arlen could feel the fire in his chest. His desire for strength, for victory, refused to die.
"I'm happy to hear you talk," Arlen spat out through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse but defiant. The words were meant for the Warden, but they were also meant for himself. Arlen pushed himself upright once more, the agony burning away his hesitation.
The Warden moved closer, its massive form towering over him like a wall of metal and rage. But Arlen wasn't ready to fall just yet. He held Hubris aloft, using it to support his weight as he focused on his next move. The minions were closing in, but he had to keep his focus on the Warden. The Warden was the true threat here.
Summoning the strength he had left, Arlen staggered back and into a defensive stance, his sword raised in front of him. "If I'm going to fall here, it won't be without a fight," he muttered, the words coming out almost like a promise.
Suddenly, the Warden raised its fist and brought it down in a hammer-like motion, aiming to crush Arlen under the sheer weight of its attack. The ground trembled beneath the force of the blow, and Arlen barely managed to jump backward, the wind from the Warden's strike making his hair whip violently.
But as Arlen landed on the ground, he saw it—a gap. The Warden's minions were beginning to surround him, but there was a momentary break in their formation. This was his chance.
Ignoring the pain in his feet, ignoring the blood dripping from his wounds, Arlen sprinted forward, using the last of his stamina to break through the swarm. As he reached the center of the Warden's forces, he whipped Hubris around in a wide arc, the flames from his blade cutting through the nearest minions like a hot knife through butter. The minions staggered backward, their molten forms sizzling and burning from the intense heat.
But the Warden, unfazed by the carnage, let out another deafening roar. The ground beneath Arlen shifted again, and a new wave of iron spikes shot from the tracks, closing in on him from every direction. The spikes shot toward Arlen at an incredible speed.
"Not again..." he thought, panic starting to rise. But this time, he wasn't caught off guard. He ducked, dodging to the side just as the spikes pierced the space where he had been standing. The world seemed to move in slow motion as Arlen watched the deadly projectiles narrowly miss him.
He gritted his teeth and pushed forward, focusing on his target. The Warden has to fall. I won't be stopped now...
And as he darted toward the Warden's towering form, the real battle began.
Arlen dashed through the rusted subway depot, his mind racing as he tried to formulate a plan. His ribs ached, his feet bled, and the oppressive heat from his fiery blade did little to comfort him. Still, his eyes burned with determination.
"Reduce everything to ashes! Hubris!" Arlen roared, gripping the hilt of his blade tightly. The fire within the spine of the weapon awoke in response to his command, streaming upward in waves of heat. The blade grew hotter and hotter until it glowed with a molten intensity. He began slashing and slicing through the iron minions that the Warden of the Abandoned Station sent after him.
Each strike from Hubris was devastating, carving through the metal constructs as if they were paper. Yet Arlen's movements were deliberate, calculating.
"These minions aren't a big deal, not individually," he muttered to himself. "But if I lose focus for even a second, their strikes will be as devastating as that Warden's."
The iron creations swung heavy, jagged limbs toward him, forcing Arlen to weave and dodge. He dispatched them efficiently, each slash of Hubris leaving trails of flames that devoured the iron bodies, turning them into piles of smoldering slag.
---
A New Revelation
As Arlen brought down another of the minions, a thought struck him. He could feel the sword's immense power coursing through his hands, but there was more.
"Hubris… after becoming fire-aligned, there must be skills I can use. I just need to figure them out!"
A sudden system window flashed before his eyes:
> [New Passive Unlocked: Scorching Laceration]
Type: Passive Offensive
Description: Hubris enhances each strike with a fiery aftershock. Slashes leave behind a lingering fire trail that damages enemies who step into it.
Effect:
Each attack deals 10% additional fire damage.
Creates a burning zone for 5 seconds, dealing AoE damage in a narrow path.
Arlen grinned. "I should've thought of this earlier!"
Testing the passive ability, he sliced through another wave of minions. Each swing left an ominous trail of fire in its wake, and any minions that stepped into the glowing paths were immediately consumed by the flames. Their armor crackled and warped as the heat melted them into heaps of molten metal.
When the final minion crumbled into ash, the station grew eerily quiet. Arlen turned his gaze back to the Warden, its hulking form standing ominously amid the wreckage of destroyed trains and burning debris.
"I guess it's just you and me now," Arlen growled, pointing Hubris at the Warden.
Another system window appeared:
> [Hubris Skill List Unlocked]
Current Skills Available:
Passive: Scorching Laceration
Fire Strike
Blazing Disintegration
Searing Smite
Dragon Descent
"Yes, go on! What is this question?" Arlen shouted at the system. He read through the descriptions quickly, his heart pounding.
1. Fire Strike
Type: Offensive
Description: Hubris channels concentrated fire into a single, precise slash. The flames explode on impact, dealing significant damage to the target and igniting them for ongoing fire damage.
Cooldown: 5 seconds
Mana Cost: Low
2. Blazing Disintegration
Type: Devastating AoE
Description: Hubris unleashes a fiery wave that disintegrates all enemies in a cone in front of Arlen. Deals extreme damage and leaves behind a scorched terrain that continues to burn for 10 seconds.
Cooldown: 15 seconds
Mana Cost: High
3. Searing Smite
Type: Utility Offensive
Description: Hubris erupts with searing light, temporarily blinding enemies within a 20-foot radius. The next attack deals critical damage, bypassing armor and defenses.
Cooldown: 30 seconds
Mana Cost: Medium
4. Dragon Descent
Type: Ultimate
Description: Hubris transforms into a blazing dragon-shaped aura around Arlen. He gains heightened strength, agility, and resistance for 15 seconds, and each attack triggers explosive fire damage in a small radius.
Cooldown: 1 minute
Mana Cost: Very High
Arlen clenched his teeth as he reviewed the skills. "These are going to drain me dry if I don't use them right. But I've come too far to fail now."
The Warden, now visibly enraged, roared in response. Its dull, hollow eyes flared a sickly yellow as its massive pole weapon ignited with a crackling, sparking energy. The ground beneath its feet fractured from the sheer weight of its steps as it began to advance.
Arlen steadied himself, gripping Hubris tightly. The blade burned brightly in his hands, a beacon of hope amid the dark, suffocating atmosphere of the abandoned station.
"Alright, Warden, let's see what you're really made of."
He activated Fire Strike, the edge of Hubris glowing white-hot as he rushed forward.
As Arlen continued his relentless series of attacks, sweat poured down his face, his body screaming in protest. Every movement was a calculated risk as he darted around Zyrkar, using Dash to weave between its sweeping strikes and slamming his flaming blade into the weakening armor. Each fiery slash left glowing trails of destruction, the combined effects of Flame's Embrace and Hubris's awakened form chipping away at the Warden's defenses. The heat radiating from the blade was intense, the air around him shimmering with fiery energy.
Despite his determination, every step was agony. His legs burned with exhaustion, his lungs heaved with the effort of keeping pace, and the sharp stabs of pain from bruises and shallow cuts only grew worse with every dodge and counter. The Warden's iron grip on the fight hadn't faltered, but Arlen could feel the armor weakening. Each strike made the once-imposing barrier crack, sparks flying from every collision.
"It's working," he muttered under his breath, teeth clenched. But even as he tried to push back the rising pain, doubt began to creep in. Could he finish this before his body gave out?
Finally, he made his decision. This would be his last gambit, his trifecta of power. He had no room for error. Using Dash, he propelled himself into the air, the flames around Hubris roaring to life as he charged everything he had left. Flame's Embrace, Dash, and the full awakened might of Hubris surged together in perfect harmony. A fiery aura surrounded him as he rocketed downward with blinding speed.
"Divine Surge Piercer!" he roared, every ounce of his strength and will focused into the attack. The crimson blade, burning brighter than ever, slammed into Zyrkar's chest with tremendous force. The impact was deafening, the ground trembling beneath them as the fiery blade pierced through the thick armor. For a moment, the Warden's movements stilled, its towering form faltering.
Arlen crashed to the ground, his body completely drained. He gasped for air, his limbs trembling as he collapsed onto his back. Hubris clattered to the ground beside him, its flames dimming as the fight appeared to be over.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling of the underground station, his vision swimming. His health was critically low, his mana entirely depleted. The ache in his chest and the sharp sting of broken ribs made every breath a struggle. But he couldn't help but smile faintly. "It's… finally over," he whispered to himself. Triumph swelled within him, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a sense of pride in what he'd accomplished.
Then the system message appeared.
> [Congratulations… Zyrkar has entered its second phase.]
Arlen's eyes shot open, his heart sinking. "Second phase? How… CU—WHAT?!" His voice cracked as he scrambled to sit up, the pain shooting through his body making him wince.
His gaze turned back to the fallen Warden, dread creeping over him as he saw the unthinkable. Zyrkar's massive body began to stir, its broken armor falling away piece by piece. Beneath the shattered metal lay something even more terrifying: a blackened, scorched body, with molten veins glowing faintly beneath its surface. The once-lifeless eyes reignited with a fiery brilliance, and the room grew unbearably hot as a malevolent aura radiated outward.
The system's voice felt like a cruel joke.
> [Zyrkar has shed its armor, revealing its true form. Stage 2 Initiated.]
The Warden—no, Zyrkar—roared, a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers down Arlen's spine. The sheer force of the noise caused the ground beneath him to tremble, dust and debris falling from the ceiling. An invisible force pulled at everything in the room. Scrap metal, rusted train cars, and discarded debris began to slide across the floor toward Zyrkar, sucked into its gravitational pull.
Arlen could only watch in horror as the monstrous transformation completed. The once-humanlike Warden had become something unrecognizable, a terrifying fusion of flesh and machinery. Its torso split open, revealing a massive, glowing furnace where its chest had once been. Flames licked hungrily at the edges of the furnace, the heat so intense that Arlen had to shield his face.
The Warden's arms were now grotesque mechanical appendages, forged from the scrap it had absorbed. Massive, claw-like hands twitched menacingly, glowing veins of molten energy running through them. Its head remained vaguely humanoid, but its face had twisted into a horrifying mask of rage and power, the fiery glow of its eyes piercing through the smoke and heat.
"I… I can't believe this," Arlen muttered, fear gripping him as he stared at the monstrosity before him. The air was thick with heat and the metallic tang of burning metal. His legs refused to move, his body frozen as he processed the overwhelming sight.
The furnace in Zyrkar's chest roared to life, spewing embers and ash into the air as it unleashed its newfound power. The debris it had absorbed began to reshape, forming smaller mechanical constructs that fell to the ground with heavy thuds. These new minions were crude but deadly, their bodies composed of jagged scrap metal, their glowing cores pulsing with the same molten energy as Zyrkar.
Arlen gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet despite the pain. He grabbed Hubris, the blade sputtering weakly as if mirroring his exhaustion. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his voice trembling. "I gave it everything I had… and now this?"
Zyrkar's burning gaze locked onto him, and its guttural voice rumbled through the arena like distant thunder. "More... power... required."
Arlen's blood ran cold as the Warden raised one of its massive clawed arms, the molten veins pulsing with energy. He braced himself, gripping Hubris tightly as the furnace monster unleashed its first attack of the second phase.
Arlen staggered on his feet, barely holding himself upright. His vision blurred, and every inch of his body screamed in protest. His health was dangerously low, mana completely drained, and fatigue weighed him down like chains. Zyrkar stood before him in its monstrous second phase, a towering inferno of steel and fire. The furnace at its core roared, spewing embers into the air as molten veins pulsed along its mechanical arms.
The thought of continuing seemed impossible. For a moment, Arlen allowed the creeping doubt to settle in his mind. His breathing was ragged, his body on the edge of collapse. "I can't... I can't keep going," he muttered, gripping Hubris with trembling hands.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, the system window flickered into view.
[Reward Unclaimed: Boss Fight Bonus]
It was like a spark igniting dry kindling in his soul. The words struck him, reminding him of a lifeline he had overlooked. Arlen's gaze snapped to the notification, a glimmer of hope breaking through the despair.
He clenched his teeth and forced himself to speak through the pain. "...Full recovery."
The moment the words left his lips, a flash of light enveloped him. It was blinding, warm, and all-encompassing. In an instant, he felt the transformation. His battered body regenerated with startling speed—ribs knitting back together, bruises fading, and cuts sealing as though they'd never been there. The crushing fatigue that had weighed him down vanished, leaving his limbs light and energized. His mana surged to its peak, a wellspring of power waiting to be unleashed.
When the light faded, Arlen stood tall, his body renewed and ready for battle. He rolled his shoulders, testing his revitalized strength, and a slow grin spread across his face. "Then... what about one more time?" he said, his voice steady and filled with renewed determination.
Gripping Hubris tightly, he felt the blade resonate with his resolve. The fire within the weapon blazed brighter than ever, its golden flames reflecting in his eyes. With a quick burst of Dash, he launched himself forward, a blur of motion cutting through the smoky battlefield as he charged straight toward Zyrkar.
The towering beast roared, its furnace chest flaring as it registered Arlen's renewed strength. One of its massive mechanical arms swung down, the jagged claw-like appendages glowing with molten energy as it tried to crush him. But Arlen was ready.
"Not this time!" he shouted, activating Ignite Field. The ground around him erupted in golden flames, creating a burning aura that melted the edges of the claw before it could fully descend. Using Dash again, he sidestepped the attack with precision, leaving behind only a trail of embers.
Arlen closed the gap, flames surging along the length of Hubris. "Let's see how you handle this! Blazing Disintegration!" he roared. The blade ignited in a burst of crimson fire as he swung it in a wide arc, releasing a searing wave of energy that slammed into Zyrkar's chest. The impact caused the furnace core to sputter, sparks flying as the molten veins pulsing along its body flickered.
Zyrkar staggered back, its mechanical limbs flailing as it attempted to regain balance. The beast snarled, raising its other arm to swipe at Arlen. This time, the attack was faster, fueled by its growing rage. The massive claw swung toward him with terrifying speed.
Arlen dug deep into his newfound strength, activating Flame's Embrace. Hubris glowed with an intense golden light as he raised it to intercept the strike. The fiery blade collided with the molten claw, the force of the impact shaking the ground beneath them. Sparks and embers flew in all directions, the heat of their clash scorching the air.
For a moment, they were locked in a deadly struggle, Arlen's blade against Zyrkar's raw, mechanical power. Then, with a surge of strength, Arlen pushed back, breaking the deadlock. "You're not the only one who's strong now!" he yelled, his voice filled with defiance.
He leaped into the air, using Dash to propel himself higher, aiming for Zyrkar's exposed furnace core. Flames danced along Hubris as he prepared to unleash another attack. "Let's turn up the heat! Dragon Descent!" he roared.
With a mighty swing, he brought the blade down, releasing a torrent of fire shaped like a coiling dragon. The fiery serpent roared as it descended upon Zyrkar, slamming into its chest with explosive force. The furnace roared in protest, molten energy leaking from cracks that had begun to form along its surface.
But Zyrkar wasn't done yet. The beast let out a deafening roar, its furnace core flaring brighter than ever as it unleashed a massive shockwave of heat and force. Arlen was thrown back, landing hard on the ground, but he quickly scrambled to his feet, his determination unshaken.
The fight was far from over, and both combatants knew it. Arlen's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins as he stared down the monstrous form of Zyrkar. A fierce grin spread across his face as he raised Hubris once more, its flames blazing with the intensity of his resolve.
"Come on, you overgrown furnace," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "Let's finish this."
Arlen felt the rush of power surging through his veins, his muscles taut and his speed amplified beyond anything he had experienced before. The buff from Dragon Descent was coursing through him, pushing his body to its limits. He couldn't waste a second. With a sharp inhale, he activated Dash again, a burst of speed propelling him like a fiery blur toward Zyrkar's hulking form.
Zyrkar's massive arms, mechanical and jagged, swung erratically in a desperate attempt to counter his assault. But Arlen was too fast. Weaving through the chaotic strikes, he closed the gap and aimed for the joints of its arms. With each swing of Hubris, enhanced by his Scorching Laceration passive and Flame's Embrace, his attacks left molten trails of fire that seared through the iron plating protecting Zyrkar's limbs.
The flames from his strikes crackled violently, eating away at the metal as if it were nothing more than paper. One decisive slash severed the left arm entirely, molten metal spraying from the wound. Arlen didn't hesitate, using his momentum to pivot and bring the blade down on the right arm. The combination of his heightened strength and the intense heat of Hubris made the second strike equally devastating. The arm fell with a thunderous crash, sparks and magma spewing from Zyrkar's now-exposed shoulders.
"One down, and then the other," Arlen muttered through gritted teeth, his focus razor-sharp. He could feel the seconds ticking away, the buffs from Dragon Descent waning with every heartbeat. He didn't stop.
Arlen followed up with a flurry of attacks, pouring all his remaining energy into successive uses of Molten Surge Slash and Divine Piercer. Each slash tore through Zyrkar's massive torso, leaving deep gouges that oozed glowing magma. With every use of Molten Surge Slash, a wave of molten energy rippled out, hitting Zyrkar's core and melting away its protective layers.
The monster roared in agony, its furnace-like chest sputtering as more and more molten blood leaked from its wounds. The arena shook with the force of its rage, but Zyrkar's movements were slowing. Each successive Divine Piercer struck true, piercing into the beast's molten core and causing bursts of fire and magma to erupt from the impact points.
Arlen's attacks were relentless, but he could feel the clock winding down. His muscles began to ache as the buff from Dragon Descent faded. The strength and speed that had carried him this far began to wane, leaving him panting and fatigued. He landed one final Molten Surge Slash across Zyrkar's chest, carving a deep, smoldering gash before disengaging.
Taking several quick steps back, Arlen put distance between himself and the beast. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, sweat dripping from his brow and steam rising from his overheated body. He looked at Zyrkar, assessing the damage he had done.
The massive creature stood motionless, its hulking frame riddled with deep wounds that leaked glowing magma. The once-imposing mechanical arms were now shattered and useless, lying in pieces around the arena. Its furnace core flickered erratically, struggling to maintain its power.
For a brief moment, Arlen allowed himself a small smirk. "You're looking a little worse for wear," he muttered, gripping Hubris tightly as he prepared for what he hoped would be the final strike.
But as he watched, the faint flicker of unease crept back into his mind. Despite the extensive damage, Zyrkar's furnace core still burned. The beast's eyes, glowing like embers, locked onto him with a fury that refused to die. Its mechanical jaw creaked open, releasing a guttural, ear-splitting roar that echoed through the arena.
Arlen tensed, his fingers tightening around Hubris. "No way... you're still standing?"
The furnace core flared suddenly, its light intensifying as molten magma began to pool beneath Zyrkar's feet. The ground trembled violently as the creature began to draw in energy from its surroundings. Pieces of scrap metal and debris were pulled toward it, fusing into its body as it started to regenerate.
Arlen's heart sank as he realized the fight was far from over. He readied himself, gripping Hubris with renewed determination. "Alright, you stubborn bastard," he muttered, a fiery glint in his eyes. "If you've got another round in you, so do I."
With a deep breath, he activated Flame's Embrace once more, the blade of Hubris igniting in golden fire. The battle wasn't over yet, but Arlen was ready to give it everything he had.
The arena was chaos. Molten metal dripped from Zyrkar's wounds, pooling and hardening on the scorched floor. The beast stood, its furnace core glowing brighter than ever, fueling its grotesque regeneration. Arlen stared down the monster, his battered body screaming for rest, but his resolve burned hotter than the flames surrounding them.
"One last push," Arlen whispered, gripping Hubris with both hands. His mana reserves were dangerously low, and his body felt like it could collapse at any moment. But he couldn't stop now. Not when victory was so close.
Zyrkar let out a deafening roar, its jaw opening wide as streams of molten energy spewed forth. The heat was unbearable, forcing Arlen to shield his face with Hubris as he leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the searing blast. The ground where he had stood moments ago was reduced to a glowing crater.
The creature's movements were more erratic now, its body unstable from the damage it had taken. Sparks and fire burst from its joints with every step, and its once-imposing frame shuddered under its own weight.
"This is my chance," Arlen thought, gritting his teeth. He activated Dash, pushing his body to its limits as he closed the distance between them. Zyrkar swung one of its massive mechanical arms at him, but Arlen slid under the attack, coming up on the monster's side.
"Molten Surge Slash!" he shouted, channeling the last of his mana into Hubris. The blade ignited with brilliant, golden flames, and he brought it down in a sweeping arc, carving through Zyrkar's side. Magma erupted from the wound, splashing onto Arlen's arm and singeing his armor, but he didn't falter.
The furnace core in Zyrkar's chest flickered violently, and the beast staggered backward, its arms flailing in a desperate attempt to retaliate. Arlen didn't give it the chance.
"Flame's Embrace!" he roared, igniting Hubris once more. The blade burned brighter than ever, the heat distorting the air around it. Arlen surged forward, using Dash to propel himself upward. He climbed Zyrkar's massive frame, his boots finding purchase on the jagged metal and exposed magma.
Reaching the furnace core, he raised Hubris high above his head. "This ends now!" he shouted, pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into the blade.
"Divine Surge Piercer!"
With a battle cry, Arlen drove the crimson blade straight into the core. Time seemed to slow as the blade pierced the glowing heart of the beast. A blinding explosion of fire and light erupted from the impact, consuming the entire arena in a wave of heat and energy.
Zyrkar let out a final, agonized roar as its body began to disintegrate, the molten metal and scrap falling away in chunks. The furnace core shattered, releasing a surge of fiery energy that dissipated into the air.
When the light faded, Arlen stood amidst the wreckage, his body trembling from exhaustion. Hubris was still clutched in his hand, its flames dim but unwavering. The once-mighty warden of the abandoned station was no more, reduced to a smoldering heap of molten slag and broken machinery.
[Congratulations! You have defeated Zyrkar, Warden of the Abandoned Station.]
[Experience gained: 25,000.]
[Level up!]
[Level up!]
Arlen let out a shaky laugh, his legs giving out beneath him as he collapsed to the ground. The system notifications blurred in his vision as relief washed over him.
"I actually did it," he muttered, staring up at the cracked ceiling of the dungeon. His chest heaved as he caught his breath, the adrenaline slowly fading.
The arena grew quiet, the only sounds the faint crackling of cooling metal and the distant hum of the dungeon's ambient energy. Arlen closed his eyes for a moment, letting the satisfaction of victory settle in.
But then, a soft chime echoed in his mind, followed by a new notification.
Arlen's eyes darted to the notification hovering in front of him, the glowing text sending a shiver down his spine:
[Warning: The boss has been defeated. This dungeon no longer has a purpose... It will collapse into itself, destroying everything in the process. Please evacuate immediately.]
"Of course, it can't just be simple," Arlen muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. He glanced around the crumbling arena, noticing how the walls and ceiling began to crack and shift. The air grew heavy, vibrating with the dungeon's impending collapse.
He stumbled forward, his body screaming in protest as the adrenaline began to wear off. His legs felt like lead, and even with the buffs from his recent victory, exhaustion clung to him like a heavy cloak.
"Alright, time to get out of here," Arlen said, gripping Hubris tightly. The blade still glowed faintly, its flames subdued but persistent, almost as if it shared his resolve.
The floor beneath him began to splinter, molten energy seeping through the cracks as the dungeon's core destabilized. Each step felt like a gamble, the ground threatening to collapse at any moment. He glanced at the exit, the stairway he had descended earlier now a distant, crumbling structure across the arena.
A sharp crack echoed through the chamber, and Arlen turned to see the glowing fragment of Zyrkar's core still floating in the center of the room. The tendrils of fiery energy it had released earlier were now retracting, condensing into a small, pulsating sphere.
"Is that… valuable?" Arlen wondered aloud. His instincts screamed at him to leave, but another part of him—the greedy, opportunistic part—argued otherwise. A fragment of a dungeon boss's core wasn't something you came across every day.
The ground beneath him groaned, another section of the arena collapsing into a pit of molten metal.
"Dammit," Arlen hissed. He weighed his options for only a moment before his greed won out. "I'm not leaving that behind."
He activated Dash, his body surging forward with newfound speed. The arena blurred around him as he zigzagged between falling debris and streams of molten metal. His boots skidded to a halt just beneath the floating fragment, the heat from the core washing over him like a suffocating wave.
"Come here, you little—" Arlen reached out and grabbed the fragment, its surface burning his hand even through his gauntlet. The pain was intense, but he gritted his teeth and pulled it free, the fiery tendrils snapping as he tore it from its place.
[You have acquired Zyrkar's Core Fragment. Warning: Core stability is low. Handle with care.]
"Great, because this wasn't dangerous enough already," Arlen muttered, shoving the fragment into his inventory.
The moment the fragment was secured, the dungeon's collapse accelerated. The entire arena began to tilt, massive chunks of stone and metal falling into the molten abyss below.
"Time to go!" Arlen shouted to himself, activating Dash once more. He sprinted toward the stairway, his lungs burning as the heat and exertion pushed him to his limits.
The ground behind him gave way, molten energy surging upward like a geyser. Arlen leapt over a gap, landing hard on the other side and rolling to absorb the impact. The stairway was just ahead, its structure barely holding together.
As he reached the base of the stairs, a massive piece of debris crashed down, blocking his path. "You've got to be kidding me!" Arlen groaned.
With no other choice, he raised Hubris and activate Blazing Desintegration. The blade ignited with searing flames as he brought it down on the debris, the intense heat melting through the obstruction in seconds. The path cleared, he bolted up the stairs, the dungeon collapsing behind him.
The final stretch of the dungeon was a blur of chaos. The walls crumbled, the ceiling caved in, and molten streams surged through the cracks. Arlen pushed himself harder than ever, his muscles screaming in protest as he finally reached the dungeon's exit.
With one final leap, he dove through the shimmering portal at the entrance, landing hard on the rocky ground outside. He rolled onto his back, gasping for air as the dungeon behind him imploded, the ground collapsing into a fiery pit.
For a moment, there was silence. Then the system chimed once more:
[Dungeon Collapse Complete. Congratulations, you have successfully escaped. Zyrkar's Core Fragment secured.]
Arlen let out a shaky laugh, staring up at the sky. "I really need to know what i am Getting my self into," he muttered, a faint smile on his lips. But even as relief washed over him, he couldn't help but wonder what secrets the core fragment held—and what challenges awaited him next.