1 – The Entrance
The survivors stumbled through a narrow stone archway into the next chamber. Unlike the previous trials, the space was neither cavernous nor mirrored—it was long, a twisting corridor with walls black as obsidian, slick with moisture.
The air hummed with an almost imperceptible vibration. Every step echoed unnaturally, the sound stretching and bending around corners. The floor was marked with strange glyphs, glowing faintly red.
Rayan's instincts screamed: This isn't just a corridor. It's a trap.
2 – The Rules Appear
As they moved forward, words appeared in the air, pulsing in rhythm with the dungeon itself:
Cross the corridor alive.Strength, speed, and wit are required.Only those who adapt may survive.
Kahl muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "This is… insane. There's no way we all make it."
Rayan didn't reply. He was already scanning the walls and floor, analyzing the faint red glyphs. They weren't just decorative—they were pressure plates, likely triggering attacks.
3 – First Wave of Danger
The corridor's ceiling shuddered. Stone spikes shot down like arrows, narrowly missing Darim. One hunter screamed as the floor beneath him collapsed, dropping him into a pit filled with jagged metal spikes.
Rayan lunged forward instinctively, grabbing the panicked hunter's arm. He pulled him back just as another spike shot up from the floor, grazing his shoulder. Blood ran down his side, warm and sticky.
This is different from before… he thought. The dungeon isn't just testing me—it's teaching me to fight smarter.
4 – Tactical Awakening
Rayan's sword began to glow faintly again. He realized he could sense the pressure plates through the subtle vibrations underfoot. Every step, every shift of his weight, became a calculated decision.
He whispered directions to the survivors: "Step there, jump two paces forward, duck under the next—now!"
By trusting his instincts and guiding the others, Rayan kept them alive through the first section of the corridor.
5 – The Second Wave
Suddenly, the walls erupted. Shadowy figures poured out, humanoid but distorted, with elongated limbs and gaping maws. Their movements were jerky, unnatural, like puppets controlled by an invisible hand.
Rayan swung his sword with precision. Each strike cut through shadows that solidified into flesh the moment they attacked. His sword glowed brighter, energy coursing through him like fire.
One shadow lunged at a terrified hunter. Rayan reacted without thinking, blocking the strike and pushing the hunter aside. He felt a rush of power, his senses sharper, stronger.
This is what it means to be chosen, he thought. I can't fail now.
6 – Serin's Memory
Amid the chaos, Rayan remembered Serin's voice, soft and teasing:
"Rayan… sometimes you have to trust yourself more than anyone else. Don't freeze. Don't overthink. Move."
He gritted his teeth, using the memory as a mental anchor. Even in the midst of shadows and death, he felt calm, focused.
7 – The Turning Point
The corridor split. One path led through more traps, the other into a chamber filled with shadows. Rayan realized this was a choice. He quickly assessed the glyphs and walls, deducing which path minimized danger.
He led the group down the shadow-filled corridor, but this time he actively engaged, striking and slicing with precision. Each kill drained a little energy, but it also strengthened him, as if the dungeon recognized his skill.
8 – Narrow Escape
At the end of the corridor, a massive stone door loomed. The shadows had thinned, but not vanished. Hunters were battered, bleeding, and trembling.
Rayan kicked the door open. Light spilled in — harsh, white, almost painful after the darkness. The survivors stumbled into a chamber that seemed… calm. Too calm.
The Fifth Trial is complete. Those who survive may proceed.
Rayan lowered his sword, chest heaving. His arms ached, his body burned with exhaustion, but inside, he felt a spark — a growing power, a clarity of purpose.
He knew this was only the beginning.
9 – Foreshadowing the Next Trial
As they rested, Rayan's eyes wandered over the chamber. A faint glow appeared at his palm, almost like a mark. He flexed his fingers — the glow pulsed stronger with every heartbeat.
The dungeon isn't done with me yet, he thought.And neither am I done learning.
Behind him, shadows twisted in the corners of the chamber. The Sixth Trial awaited — one that would test not just his body, but his very soul.