After the fierce aerial combat with the Dungeon Harpies, Elias's body throbbed with a deeper exhaustion than usual.
His muscles screamed, and even his anomalous healing couldn't keep pace with the relentless strain. He knew pushing on without significant rest would be suicidal, especially with the palpable sense of a greater threat looming.
The architectural changes in the passages—crumbling, carved stone contrasting with raw rock—signaled that he was nearing the heart of Level 2.
He found a secluded chamber, partially collapsed but with surprisingly sturdy remnants of what looked like an ancient stone altar.
The air here was strangely still, devoid of the constant scuttling of smaller creatures. It felt safer, an anomaly in itself. Elias sealed the entrance with a few heavy, fallen stones, creating a crude, temporary barricade. He extinguished his lantern, letting his Low-Light Vision guide him to a relatively smooth slab of stone.
He slumped onto it, allowing himself to truly relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity. His senses, usually hyper-vigilant, still pulsed with residual awareness—his Enhanced Hearing picking up the distant drip of water, his Enhanced Olfaction sifting through the layers of damp earth and ancient stone.
But here, the immediate threat was absent. He closed his eyes, forcing his mind to quiet, pushing down the monstrous urges and the grim satisfaction of his recent kills.
He slept, deeper and more profoundly than he had since arriving in Aethelgard, though short, vivid nightmares of gnashing teeth and tearing flesh still flickered at the edges of his consciousness.
[Notification]
Rest Duration: 6 hours (Deep Sleep)
Health: 100/100 (Fully Restored)
Stamina: 100/100 (Fully Restored)
Mental Fatigue: Significantly Alleviated
He woke feeling remarkably refreshed, his body entirely mended, his mind clearer than it had been since his summoning.
The short, fragmented rests had kept him functional, but this deeper sleep had truly rejuvenated him. A cold, hard resolve solidified in his core. He was ready.
He dismantled his makeshift barricade and continued his advance. The passages quickly gave way to what was unmistakably an ancient, constructed tunnel, massive and imposing, yet scarred by eons of dungeon decay.
The air here was dry, thick with the scent of aged stone and something else – a deep, resonant earthiness, imbued with a strange, inert power. His Enhanced Hearing picked up a low, rhythmic thrumming that vibrated through the very rock beneath his feet, growing louder with every step. His Perception screamed, a constant, piercing alarm. This wasn't just a monster; this was the guardian.
The tunnel opened into a truly colossal cavern, easily a hundred meters across and twice as high. It was a cathedral of stone, its vaulted ceiling lost in utter blackness, its floor a rough, uneven landscape of ancient, weathered rock formations.
In the very center of this immense chamber, where the thrumming was strongest, stood a towering, impossibly still figure.
It was the Stone Hulk, the guardian of Level 2. It stood nearly five meters tall, a monolithic humanoid construct forged from raw, black volcanic rock and ancient, moss-covered boulders. Its massive limbs were like tree trunks, its hands ending in blunt, crushing fists of solid stone.
Deep, emerald-green crystals, glowing with a faint inner light, were embedded in its chest and where its eyes should have been, giving it an otherworldly, ancient sentience.
Its surface was covered in thick, primeval moss and streaks of mineral deposits, making it seem as if it had grown from the very bedrock of the dungeon itself.
The Stone Hulk was utterly motionless, a silent, imposing sentinel. It radiated an aura of immense, unyielding power, a sheer density that felt like a physical weight in the air.
This was no mere beast; it was a force of nature, an obstacle designed to be insurmountable. It didn't smell of flesh or blood, but of deep earth, raw minerals, and the subtle, cold scent of ancient magic.
Elias felt a tremor of fear, a primal instinct against such overwhelming power. But it was quickly replaced by a grim determination, a surge of the monstrous will he had cultivated.
This was the boss. This was the gatekeeper. And he would tear it down, piece by agonizing piece, just as he had torn down every other obstacle. He clutched his pickaxe, its steel tip seeming insignificant against the sheer mass of the Stone Hulk.
The battle for Level 2 was about to begin.