Lilith
Middle floor
Dungeon, Thornhill
Vankar Island,
Northern Isles Region
Kingdom of Ashtarium
November 16th 2019
It didn't take us long to reach the threshold of the middle floor. The path had been anything but easy—each step forward earned through battles against relentless magic beasts, the constant threat of traps, and the suffocating pressure of the Dungeon's shifting malice. We pushed ourselves hard, driven by the knowledge that the Cambion waited ahead, no doubt preparing whatever nightmare plan it had in store.
Despite everything, despite the lingering awkwardness between Jen and me after what had passed between us, we fought together with seamless precision. If anything, the tension between us sharpened our edge in battle—each of us reading the other, filling gaps before they could form, striking in perfect tandem. Our compatibility as warriors had never been stronger.
For the first time in longer than I cared to admit, I felt what it was like to belong to a team. Real comrades. My memories of the Black Forest were the opposite of this—those endless, solitary hunts where I relied on no one and no one relied on me. There, it had been me against the world. But now? Now I fought alongside allies who had my back, and I had theirs. Our bond had been forged in the fire of the Dungeon, and it showed. We moved as one, instinct and trust woven together with each skirmish.
Jen and I took point, the strikers of the formation, cutting down anything that dared block our way. Ben played the wall—our shield and tank, his tougher physique absorbing the brunt of the enemy's fury. Ella had blossomed into a formidable ranged fighter, her arrows precise, her focus unshakable as she covered us with lethal grace from afar. And Neil—Neil had grown into his role as the support, his healing arts keeping us on our feet, his spells bolstering us or tearing through clusters of foes when the situation demanded it.
I, too, was changing. Where once I relied purely on instinct and blade, I now felt the rhythm of mana arts pulsing through my style. Aeternum's basic teachings had taken root. Rapid Steps flowed through my movements, lending speed and fluidity that let me slip past enemy strikes like water around stone. Validus strengthened my body, making every strike heavier, every parry firmer. Full Guard sharpened my Internal Sense, letting me anticipate danger, feel the flow of combat on a deeper level. I was beginning to weave these fundamentals into my battle art, no longer two separate forces, but pieces of the same whole.
Ella was growing before my eyes. The uncertainty I'd once seen in her stance had faded. Each shot she loosed from that black-gold bow bore not just precision, but purpose. She wasn't just surviving anymore. She was fighting, rising. The Dungeon was shaping all of us—but her most of all.
As we neared the end of the middle floor, I could feel it. The next stage was close. The true test waiting beyond. And this time… I wasn't walking into it alone. When we stepped through the portal that led to the upper floor, I felt it immediately—a shift, subtle at first, then jarring. The spatial coordinates within the portal twisted, recalibrating in ways I couldn't fully track. It wasn't like the transitions we'd experienced before. This felt... deliberate. As if the Dungeon itself had adjusted its layout in response to us.
When we emerged, the world beyond hit us like a wall. The atmosphere here was different—wrong in ways that prickled at the edges of my senses. The ambient energy was denser, far more concentrated than on the previous floors. It wasn't just thick—it was raw, volatile, like a storm barely restrained. The air itself felt coarse, every breath like drawing in shards of glass. Gravity bore down on us with oppressive weight, as though the Dungeon wanted to press us flat against the stone. My muscles tensed just standing upright.
Neil staggered, his breathing ragged, the strain visible in his face. His resistance to spiritual pressure wasn't as developed as ours, and it showed. I glanced at Ella, half-expecting to see her falter too—but she stood steady, the strange silver gleam in her eyes calm, unbothered. Her Vampiric bloodline shielded her, the innate resilience of her constitution granting her a buffer against this crushing spiritual force.
I drew in a breath, centering myself, and finally took in our surroundings. The landscape was like nothing I'd seen before. Alien, surreal—as if we'd stepped into the fractured dream of a mad god. The sky above wasn't truly a sky at all, but a riot of color and shadow. Swirls of crimson bled into streaks of violet, clouds of gold clashed against ink-black voids, the entire canvas chaotic, like an amateur painter had flung colors without reason or restraint. There was no sun, no moon—just the constant, eerie glow of this painted sky, as if light bled through the cracks of an unseen world.
We stood on a vast floating cliff, the white shimmer of the portal pulsing behind us like an open eye. All around, other cliffs drifted at different heights, suspended in the endless abyss. Some were jagged, broken as if torn from larger masses. Others bore strange shapes, like claws or fangs of stone reaching into the empty sky.
Connecting many of these cliffs were massive stone stairways—one structure, spiraling and fragmented, winding between the islands of rock. The stairs seemed precarious, worn by ages, but solid enough to serve as a path. And at the center of it all hovered a solitary rock, smaller than the rest, but unmistakably significant. From this distance, its surface was carved with structures—spires and arches, delicate bridges that glimmered faintly with mana. The rock floated alone, untethered by stairs or bridges. No connection. No easy path.
The implication was clear—you didn't walk to that place. You earned your way. We would have to cross the open air, step into the abyss itself, and shape the mana beneath our feet if we wanted to reach it.
"Hold on to me," I said. Without hesitation, the others gathered close, hands gripping my arms, shoulders, wherever they could. My gaze locked onto the central floating platform, and I focused—there.
The distance between us and that rock was vast, but I ignored it. I called upon Aeternum's power, channeling its spatial authority. The Dungeon itself fought back immediately—the space between cliffs thickened, warped, the layers of reality grinding like ancient gears to trap us in place. I felt the resistance as if the very air had turned to stone, the spatial layer trying to seal shut any path I might carve.
But Aeternum's Ability Factor was no ordinary power. Where lesser spatial arts might have been crushed, it rejected the interference entirely. The Dungeon's grip slipped from us like water off polished steel. The next instant, we appeared on the platform, defying the Dungeon's will.
What lay before us was nothing like I had imagined. The rock wasn't just a platform—it was an amphitheater, vast and ancient, carved into the very stone. A circular coliseum of dark marble, tiered seating rising around us, as if waiting for some unseen audience. Every detail felt heavy with purpose, the architecture both alien and precise, designed to draw all eyes to the center stage.
And there, at the heart of it all, floated a crystal shard. It hovered above a complex weaving array etched into the stone—an intricate geometric lattice, its pattern alive with faint blue and crimson light. Nodes flared at the array's points, each socketed with fragments of red, pulsating like embers. The whole structure thrummed with power—ancient, patient, waiting.
"You've finally arrived," came a voice—low, echoing, carrying through the amphitheater like the toll of a bell.
We turned as one. From the shadows beneath the outer tier, it stepped forward—the armored knight. The Cambion.
It was changed. Where before its armor had been scarred and cracked, now it gleamed as if reforged. The plating was leaner, its form more lithe but no less menacing. The helm retained its skull-like visage, hollow eyes burning faint red. Its weapon—a massive axe that curved like a scythe—rested easily in its grasp, wicked and sharp. Along the blackened steel of its armor, crimson sigils pulsed, channeling oppressive energy that made the air feel heavier still. And in its other hand, clenched like a prize, was a glowing shard of red.
"Demonic beast core," Jen muttered, eyes narrowing.
"Now we know what it's after," Ella said, turning to study the array. Her voice was steady, but tension laced every word. "It's feeding the array… probably trying to boost its power."
The Cambion's voice came again, resonant, cold. "You've set foot where no other mortals have. The heart of the Thornhill Dungeon—where time and space have no dominion. You should savor this, for no Raider before you has reached this core chamber. No one has ever claimed it."
And it was true. The weight of it hit me fully then. This was why Thornhill was infamous. A small town, known across continents—not for riches, not for glory, but because its Dungeon remained unconquered, defiant when all others had fallen to Raiders. And now, here we stood—at the edge of something no one had ever touched.
"I intend to finish what I began eons ago," the Armored Knight intoned, its voice like a grinding blade, hollow and ancient. "I once thought to let a demonic beast rampage through Thornhill—as has been done so many times before. But I see now... it is not enough. I must uproot Thornhill at its root, tear it from the world before the rot spreads. And now, with you here, Codex wielder... everything is ready. Your death shall be the harbinger of this Dungeon's ruin."
Before we could move, the Cambion raised the core shard high—then crushed it in its gauntlet. The glow bled between its fingers like molten blood.
The world seemed to tear open. Dozens of portals flared into existence around it, ragged holes in reality from which poured demonic beasts, each more monstrous than the last. But they weren't meant to fight. No—black tendrils of energy lashed out from the Cambion's shadow, snaring the beasts. The tendrils devoured them, pulling them inward, consuming flesh, bone, and soul alike. And from that abyssal feeding, they emerged again—twisted, reborn.
Seven figures stepped free, clad in dark armor mirroring the Cambion's own, each radiating the same oppressive, soul-crushing aura. Eight of them now—eight horrors facing us. We were five.
"So that's its ability," I muttered, the pieces falling into place. My mind raced back to that ghost town where Jen and I had first crossed blades with this terror. Those armored foes had been nothing more than shadows of its will—extensions of its power, conjured from darkness and death.
The copies moved—wrong, broken. Their steps were jagged, their forms shifting, as if they struggled to recall how to be alive. The air around them warped with their passing, their presence a living nightmare.
"They're weaker than the first ones," Jen said, her voice hard as steel. She stepped forward, her rapier drawn. Cold mist coiled around the blade, the air itself freezing in its wake. She moved without hesitation—disciplined, lethal.
With a sharp, practiced slash, she carved the air. A jagged wall of ice erupted from the ground, a frozen barrier of fangs racing toward the advancing knights. There was no mercy in her strike. The murderous intent she wielded was cold, focused, far sharper than any rage I had ever unleashed. It was the killing will of one who had walked this path too long.
The minions responded in unison, a blur of black steel and malice. They shot forward, streaking through the air like arrows loosed from the bow of death itself, their speed ferocious, their hunger palpable.
The clash was coming—and it would be nothing short of hell. Three of the copies didn't even have time to react—Jen's ice surged up in jagged walls, fangs of frost that snapped shut around them like the jaws of some ancient predator. The knights froze mid-motion, encased in crystalline death, their forms locked in grotesque poses, frost spreading over their armor with a hiss that echoed through the amphitheater.
But the remaining four broke free, shadows streaking toward us like specters of ruin. Ben was the first to meet them—his body flaring with silver light as he invoked his transformation. His frame expanded, muscle and bone reshaping into the towering figure of a lupine warrior, fur silver-white like moonlight on snow, claws like blades. He launched forward with terrifying force, tackling two of the copies. The ground quaked beneath the impact, stone fracturing beneath his weight as he drove them back, fangs bared in a snarl.
Ella was already in motion, her bow a blur in her hands. Mana coiled along her limbs as she drew, the black-gold weapon shimmering with crimson veins. She loosed a storm of arrows—each shot split into smaller mana-tipped fragments mid-flight, finding the weak points in the copies' armor with surgical precision. Neil supported from behind, his earth magic rippling through the ground. Pillars of stone erupted, slamming into the path of one of the knights, diverting its charge. His hands wove sigils rapidly, reinforcing Ella's shots with bursts of concussive force where they landed.
"Come on, Lil," Jen said, her voice calm, razor-sharp. Her eyes locked on the original Cambion. This was where she intended to strike—at the heart of the nightmare.
I moved with her, unsheathing my katana in a single, fluid motion. Red flame roared to life along its edge, the runes carved into its steel igniting with hungry fire. The blade felt like an extension of my will, eager for the clash.
The Cambion reacted instantly. It materialized behind us with impossible speed—no, not speed. It folded the space around it, appearing as if it had always been there. Its axe swept down in a brutal arc, aiming to cleave us both.
Jen's rapier snapped up to meet the blow. The collision rang out like a thunderclap, force rippling outward. The ground beneath our feet shattered, fragments rising in slow-motion before falling like rain. Her grandmaster strength held, but only just—the pressure was enough to send cracks spidering through the stone.
I didn't hesitate. My katana lashed out, red flames coiling along its path. I channeled my spell through it—Blazing Edge, the enchantment I'd honed for moments like this. The blade burst with an explosive surge of heat and force as it struck, a fiery wave detonating toward the knight.
The Cambion recoiled, forced back as the wave hit, cold air clashing violently with flame. The air between us distorted—heat waves mingling with the freezing mist Jen conjured. Jen moved with relentless precision. She stepped forward, her rapier glowing pale blue. With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed Glacier Fang, a rapid thrust that sent a spear of condensed frost hurtling toward the Cambion's chest.
The knight evaded, leaping skyward in a blur of dark steel. It moved as if invisible platforms lifted it, each step silent but swift, carrying it above us. From that height, its axe drew back, black energy pooling along its edge, readying another strike.
"It's adapting," Jen warned, already preparing her next move. "Stay sharp."
[Frost Calamity: Second Wave — Fang Gale Slash!]
A brilliant arc of white light erupted from Jen's rapier, a crescent of frost mana that tore through the air like a storm-borne fang. The Armored Knight unleashed its own strike—a black line of condensed energy, jagged like a rift in reality. The two forces collided mid-air. The white slash devoured the darkness, freezing it on contact. The black line cracked, splintered, and shattered into fragments of ice that rained down like blackened glass.
"Just as I thought—your ability is dangerous indeed," the Cambion's voice rang out, cold and amused. Its axe snapped up just in time to block my strike as I appeared behind it, my katana slashing in a horizontal blaze of red flame. "To freeze not just the material, but the metaphysical as well… rare."
With a surge of brutal strength, the Cambion's axe met my blade and hurled me across the battlefield. My body smashed into one of Jen's ice walls, shards exploding outward. Before I could rise, it vanished from its spot—dematerializing, only to rematerialize behind Jen like a specter.
Jen spun to meet it, but the Cambion's sweeping kick caught her mid-turn, sending her crashing through the stone floor in a storm of dust and fractured earth.
Its power was terrifying—overwhelming even Jen's Grandmaster might. I pushed free of the shattered ice, blood trickling down my temple, my breath ragged. Across the field, Jen rose from the crater, her silver armor cracked and scarred. She drew a long breath and dismissed the ruined upper plates in a shimmer of light. Her hair spilled free from its tie, brown strands catching the strange glow of the Dungeon. Power flared around her, a silver-blue shroud enveloping her form, her aura ascendant. The crushing gravity that had weighed on us eased, as if the world itself bent to her will. She hovered above the ground, her presence a storm contained within flesh.
The Cambion responded in kind. Tendrils of metaphysical energy burst from its form, the air crackling, thick with charged malice.
"Don't slack off, Lil!" Jen called, her voice sharper than steel. She surged forward, streaking through the sky, her blade meeting the Cambion's axe in a clash that rang like a bell of war.
But this was no longer just her Ability Factor. For the first time, I saw her battle art in full—a seamless fusion of swordsmanship and frost mastery. Each movement traced frost mana through the air in rippling spirals, a sphere of cutting cold that carved into the Cambion's defenses, scoring its armor with deep, burning gashes.
I steadied my grip on my katana, feeling the awakening stir within. Aeternum roused from its slumber, its presence returning like a familiar shadow. I had not called on this power since awakening my soul core. I'd promised Ella I wouldn't recklessly wield it again. But this… this demanded everything I had.
"Lilith, I have—"
"Silence, Aeternum," I answered, my thoughts focused, my resolve iron.
My Ability Factor ignited.
[Primal Harmonics: Umbral Synthesis — Apex Harmonization!]
A pillar of shadowed radiance burst around me, deep violet shot through with silver brilliance. The Dungeon shook as my mana surged outward, the pillar condensing to a tight shroud that cloaked my body. My mana utilization ascended—fourth application level achieved. The technique pushed my cultivation from Master to Grandmaster realm, my strength surging until the air trembled with it. Both Jen and the Cambion felt the shift—power like a tidal wave breaking loose.
[Frost Calamity: Fifth Wave — Crushing Zero Field!]
Jen struck again, her blade a flash of pure white light. The ambient energy itself bent to her will, cohesion breaking down as the very air fell beneath subzero fury. Space froze—crystallized and deadened—as a massive lump of ice engulfed the Cambion's last position. At that moment, I felt a glitch within reality.
And in that same heartbeat, Aeternum's voice surged back into my mind—sharp, urgent, almost rattled.
"Did you feel that?"
Jen's gaze was still locked on the massive ice structure, expecting to see the Cambion sealed within, the battle won. But then—we both saw it. The Cambion wasn't entombed. It floated above the frozen mass, untouched, as if it had sloughed off the assault like a serpent shedding its skin. Its form shimmered faintly at the edges, like a mirage, like something wrong.
Jen reacted instantly, lunging in for another strike. But the Cambion moved—faster than before. Its axe surged with black energy, the blade howling through the air as it met her defense. The clash sent a shockwave rippling through the amphitheater. Jen's form crumpled beneath the blow, the sheer force hurling her downward. She hit the stone hard, blood arcing through the air from her shattered left arm, the limb twisted unnaturally at the elbow.
"Jen!" I shouted, my blood roaring in my ears.
I didn't hesitate. My body blurred upward as I activated Rapid Step, the mana art flaring beneath my feet. The world narrowed to the Cambion alone. My katana swept up, red flame bursting to life along the blade as my strike came down. The spell woven into the steel ignited—Searing Ember Crescent Fang Slash—a tier-three spell, fused with the cutting precision of the Crescent Fang mana art. A roaring arc of flame and force carved toward the Cambion, its heat warping the air, and its power aimed to cleave the armored fiend in two.
But even as the strike fell, the Cambion's hollow voice whispered—a curse, a prophecy.
"You will miss."
And I did.
I felt it—the momentary glitch in reality, that same unnatural slip I'd sensed before. My blade cut through empty space, the flaming crescent tearing harmlessly past. The Cambion was no longer where it had been. It stood beside me, unharmed, untouched. I could feel it—no contact. My katana had sliced nothing but air.
My pulse hammered. The truth hit me cold. This wasn't speed. This wasn't evasion. This was something else entirely.
"Lilith," Aeternum hissed in my mind, "we're fighting more than the knight. This one... it bends the frame. It walks between what is and what isn't. Its ability factor is Singular intention. It allows it to overwrite reality, bend causality to negate effect."
"I see," I said, breath low, mind racing.
The Cambion turned its gaze on me, those hollow eye sockets glowing with baleful red light. Its axe rose again, the black edge thrumming with dark energy, cutting through the very air with its malice. And then it came down—fast, faster than before. The strike blurred as it fell, the force behind it enough to split stone.
I reacted on instinct. Hyperfold Dash—my body flickered, space bending as I wove between layers of reality. Rapid Step followed, mana surging to my limbs, propelling me in a burst of speed. I slipped aside, the axe missing by a hair.
But then the Cambion's voice echoed like a curse. "Hit."
And the glitch came. The air warped, time staggered—and I felt the blade connect. Searing pain exploded in my shoulder, the force of the blow sending me crashing down beside Jen. I hit hard, my body screaming in protest, the backlash of Apex Harmonization burning through my veins. The strain was catching up—the cost of pushing beyond my limits was demanding its due.
The Cambion loomed above, voice devoid of pity. "Are you done yet? Have you struggled enough?"
My combat aura wavered, the shroud of mana around me flickering, fracturing at the edges. My battle power ebbed, cohesion slipping through my grasp like sand. I could barely hold the harmonization together.
Beside me, Jen rose to one knee. Blood dripped from the ruin of her left arm—but she had already frozen the veins near the break, sealing off the wound with her will. Her face was pale, but her eyes burned with defiance.
The Cambion's attention shifted toward the floating crystal shard at the heart of the amphitheater. Its murderous intent poured off it in waves, as if the very air darkened under its gaze. We could feel it—the killing blow it was preparing.
"We're not giving up," Jen said, voice steel despite her pain. Her aura flared anew, frost crackling along the ground beneath her.
I gritted my teeth, forcing my mind to focus. "Aeternum," I called inwardly, desperate now, "how do we shut down that ability? How do we stop that... glitch?"
Aeternum's presence stirred, quiet at first, then with the weight of ancient knowledge waking.
"You're not fighting its speed, Lilith. You're fighting its anchor point. Its existence is tied to the armor it wears. Its ability is powerful but limited. Its flaw is written on its armor. Look—"
I forced my gaze to focus. The crimson sigils carved into the Cambion's armor glowed faintly... except for three. Three of them had dimmed, their light snuffed out, their power drained from sustaining that unnatural movement.
"Your Primal Harmonics, Lilith," Aeternum said. "It can do more than elevate your cultivation realm. It can also target the flow of causality itself. That flow is powered by law-adjacent energy—a force tethered to the metaphysical structure of reality. Your harmonics can disrupt it. Its strength has boundaries, Lilith. Break the flow. Break the armor."
"And how do I do that?" I said.
"Harmonic Shatter." Aeternum named the technique as it awakened a different expression of my ability factor within my soul. "Release a wave of dissonant mana. Let it fracture the false rhythm. And you should be able to neutralize its ability. Plus, I have modified the Twilight Harmonic convergence from an artifact tier spell to an Aura technique that you can use. I'll transfer the details of the technique into your mind." Understanding bloomed like a flare in the dark. I rose, staggering at first, then steadying as my mana gathered. The Cambion turned back, as if sensing the shift, its axe rising once more. But this time, I was ready.
My left arm ignited with purpose as deep purple markings spread through my veins, pulsing like a second heartbeat. The diamond-shaped rune on my palm flared to life, exhaling dark violet mist that coiled and writhed, hungry for form. I shaped it, my will steady, molding the dissonant energy into what I needed it to be.
Jen sensed it—the shift in my aura, the storm I was about to unleash. Without a word, she slipped into her battle art stance, the frost in her veins flaring brighter. She struck, waves of white light surging forward like a tidal onslaught. The air froze beneath the weight of her attack, a blizzard's wrath crashing down upon the Cambion.
It was a wide, overwhelming assault—enough to cloak me, to mask my movements from the Cambion's gaze. My senses, sharpened by Aeternum's guidance, locked onto the telltale distortion, that glitch in the fabric of reality as Jen's strike passed harmlessly through its form.
And in that instant—before the Cambion could vanish into causality's cracks—I acted.
[Primal Harmonics: Umbral Synthesis — Harmonic Shatter]
Dissonant mana erupted from my palm in a spiraling wave, unseen yet undeniable. The energy burrowed deep, rippling through the layers of the metaphysical plane, fracturing the flow of causality that the Cambion clung to like armor. The air trembled as the false rhythm of its invulnerability faltered.
Jen's ice took hold—real this time. The Cambion faltered, caught off guard as frost spread across a portion of its armor, locking it down.
My katana descended, its edge burning with the aura technique Aeternum had designed—perfected for my Dancing Twilight battle art. The blade swelled with power, soul-deep, as a searing orange radiance poured forth. It wasn't a flame. It wasn't light. It was both and neither. Pure, raw force that defied classification, born of everything I was.
Energy rippled as I struck, the air behind my blade shimmering with radiant embers.
[Dancing Twilight: Everlasting Sunset]
My blade cleaved downward, unleashing a wave of golden-orange brilliance that surged outward like the dying light of a thousand suns. The Cambion had no escape—the dissonant mana had ensnared its tricks, anchoring it to the laws it had sought to cheat. The slash consumed it, the brilliance stretching across the amphitheater, as if the sun itself had descended to bathe this cursed place in final, cleansing light. And for the first time, the Cambion was badly hurt.
The wave of golden-orange brilliance faded, its light receding like the last breath of the sun. As the glow dimmed, the Cambion was revealed—its false armor shattered, the sigil-laced plating cracked and crumbling away, falling from its form like ash caught on the wind.
Beneath that shell was no mortal frame. Its true body emerged—black flame, writhing and flickering like a living inferno, its shape only barely humanoid. Its eyes, now fully exposed, glowed an unholy red, twin furnaces of hunger and hate. The aura it exuded was no longer hidden behind steel; it was raw, unrestrained, a storm of murderous intent that made the very air quiver around us.
And in that fleeting heartbeat—before it could unleash that fury—Jen was there.
She moved like a streak of silver and ice, her form a blur as she descended upon it. Her rapier, shimmering with frost mana sharpened to a killing edge, drove forward. The blade found its mark, piercing clean through the black-flame body, cutting through the infernal core that pulsed beneath the surface.
For the first time, the Cambion let out a sound—not a voice, not a word, but a low, resonant roar that shook the foundations of the amphitheater. The flames writhed violently, as if trying to reject the wound, but Jen's blade held firm, the frost spreading along its length, biting deep into the heart of the monster.
This was no longer a battle of steel and spells. This was the endgame—a clash of will and survival itself.