Gabriel ran his bare hands along the damp tunnel walls. The cold, mossy stone clung to his palms as if it were their first human contact in centuries.
The air was thick, carrying a scent that stuck to the back of his throat. A mixture of rot and chemical compounds.
He knew he was facing one of the greatest challenges for ordinary players at this stage of the dungeon.
A new system warning echoed in his mind with red letters:
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[You are entering the Lair of Failed Experints!]
[Survive their monstrous and violent jaws.]
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Before him, an irregular stone arch opened like a broken mouth, leading into a ruined hall. The ceiling was cracked, with holes everywhere that allowed faint, pale light to filter through.
The floor was a chaos of debris, dark puddles, and bone remains that crunched under his boots. The sll was much worse here, almost unbearable.
At the back of the hall, a dark creature rested. Eyeless, with four powerful limbs, its bulging muscles stood out beneath a fleshy and leathery skin.
Its imposing figure occupied nearly three ters of height even while at rest. Gabriel recognized it instantly: a Pseudo-Tyrant. One of the most common and deadly monsters in the depths of the dungeons.
Players feared these creatures because of their terrifying background. They were usually associated with failed experints by heretical alchemists, who practiced forbidden thods and eventually abandoned them to their own violence.
He took a cautious step into the hall.
The monster rose imdiately. Its eyeless head turned with spasmodic movents, trying to determine the source of the sound vibration.
Gabriel held his breath, observing its strange instinctive behavior. The beast’s muscles contracted and expanded as if responding to a gigantic heart, promising terrifying explosive strength.
It was one of the most difficult enemies to defeat in this area, with apparent invulnerability, accelerated regeneration, and brute force capable of shattering armor.
Gabriel slowly picked up a stone from the floor without making a sound and threw it against a distant wall. The impact echoed loudly.
The Pseudo-Tyrant bristled instantly. With a guttural roar that vibrated in Gabriel’s chest, it leaped with terrifying speed on all fours, landing exactly where the stone had fallen. Primitive rage made its entire body tremble.
Gabriel focused and activated his Shadow Illusion skill. His figure beca blurry, creating a slight mist that concealed his tracks. He leaped toward the beast from the left flank.
The monster responded with a brutal claw swipe that cut through the air. Gabriel dodged at the last second, feeling the claws pass centiters from his face. He counterattacked with a clean cut to the exposed neck.
Blue, viscous blood spurted out. The beast roared in pain.
He landed gracefully, but heard a noise behind him. The monster was already recovering, turning with exceptional speed.
Gabriel had to dodge constantly, rolling and jumping between debris while looking for an opening. Finally, after a series of feints, he propelled himself off a broken column and drove both daggers deep into the creature’s brain up to the hilts.
The beast swelled its chest violently, but finally fell.
His breathing was ragged. The corpse lay before him.
Huge claws, leathery skin, no sight or sll. It was a creature created with the sole purpose of being a pure combination of speed and primitive strength.
A viscous blue liquid seeped from its wounds.
He imdiately used Leviathan Gluttony on the corpse.
The skill flowed greedily. Gabriel felt himself absorbing the creature’s essence — a dense, wild, and chaotic energy. It was like an oasis in the desert, filling his hungry soul.
A wave of strength ran through his muscles, slightly increasing his power and regeneration.
He was satisfied.
But his senses were imdiately bombarded by two new presences.
Two more Pseudo-Tyrants had erged from holes in the walls. The waves were the real threat in this hall.
Gabriel had no ti to rest. He attacked the nearest one, using the shadows to confuse it.
The fight was fiercer. He received a direct blow to the side that sent him flying into a wall, but that created distance and separated the monsters.
He seized the opportunity, facing the nearest one in a brutal contest of strength, stabbing his dagger repeatedly until he destroyed its brain. The second tried to tear him apart with its claws, but Gabriel rolled across the floor, clung to its neck, and finished it the sa way.
He greedily absorbed the essence of both corpses. The energy invaded him, but he felt a slight discomfort.
In a short period of ti, four more beasts erged.
It was the penultimate round and Gabriel felt the pressure tangibly. Ti was becoming an enemy as lethal as the beasts.
He attacked with his daggers, but opportunities didn’t co easily; the monsters defended with their numbers, covering each other. When he was close to finishing one, two would intervene.
Soon he was surrounded.
He had to escape, jumping through an opening in the wall. Even so, he was ramd by the hard head of one of them, slamming into the opposite wall. A torch fell beside him with a tallic sound.
When the beast approached to finish him off, it retreated timidly, growling gutturally upon seeing the fla.
Gabriel narrowed his eyes.
He had discovered one of their weaknesses.
Equipped with the torch in one hand and a dagger in the other, he used the fire as a barrier. He intimidated the creatures, forcing them to retreat while executing them one by one with precise cuts to the brain.
The sll of burned flesh mixed with the already present stench.
When he finally finished them all, he absorbed their essences. The pressure inside him increased, and he felt a stronger discomfort, as if his body was reaching a limit.
The next round quickly included eight more enemies.
Gabriel no longer fought with daggers alone. He used fire as his main weapon, creating barriers and cornering the ignorant beasts.
His skills beca more refined, increasing his effectiveness with smoother movents.
The Blood Tempest title glowed in his interface, enhancing his talent and allowing him to anticipate attack patterns.
When he absorbed the last Pseudo-Tyrant, the nausea was stronger. A montary dizziness forced him to lean against a wall.
Apparently, Leviathan Gluttony had limits he still didn’t know. But the reasoning was simple: he couldn’t devour without consequences.
He rested beside the corpses, which piled up around him. A total of fifteen corpses that emitted a terrible stench, but which fed his inner satisfaction.
At that mont, a new notification rang out with a crimson glow on his screen:
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[The Wall of Bones]
[Warning: Avoid being crushed to death]
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Gabriel cleaned his daggers and advanced toward the exit of the hall. The next corridor was narrow, with walls decorated with human and creature bones embedded in the stone.
Skulls stared with empty sockets. The air grew even more oppressive, exerting psychological pressure.
He knew this was only preparation. The dungeon was testing not only his strength, but his ntal endurance and his limits.
Where death was forbidden.
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