The Dark Castle loomed like a jagged shadow against the twilight sky, its towers clawing at the clouds, lightning flickering along its ramparts. Rocky crouched atop a ridge, the wind whipping around him, summoning every ounce of focus he had learned from the monk.
His summons hovered silently around him: a few spectral wolves for reconnaissance, tiny shadow slimes for scouting, and the faint pulsing echo of his Gravitational Force Dragon restrained in the void, ready to strike if necessary. With the monk's lessons on Summon Boosts, every creature resonated with him more strongly than ever, their senses extending his own.
Rocky exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. "One step at a time. No mistakes. Sylvia… I'm coming."
Using the shadows, he slid across the outer walls, the castle's magical wards detectable only by the faint distortion in the air. His shadow slimes dissolved into the darkness, scouting for traps and patrols, while the spectral wolves whispered warnings directly into his mind.
Inside, the castle's halls were cold and imposing. Gargoyle statues lined the walls, their eyes glowing faintly. Magic wards glimmered like threads across the floor, and Rocky moved with a mixture of caution and calculated speed, channeling his Summon Boosts to heighten perception and reflexes.
A patrol of armored soldiers turned a corner ahead. Rocky's hand twitched, and the shadow slimes surged forward. They slithered across the floor, tangling legs, muffling steps, and creating chaos without leaving a trace. The soldiers cursed, stumbled, and turned away, convinced the disturbance was some rogue magic of the castle itself.
Deeper into the castle, the corridors twisted unnaturally. Rocky's connection to his summons guided him, senses extending through the walls, floors, and shadows. Every heartbeat brought him closer to Sylvia, and every step increased the tension coiling in his chest.
At last, he reached the throne room. The door was massive, carved from black stone, runes etched along its frame pulsing with dark energy. Rocky paused. Beyond this door, Lucifer's presence was unmistakable—power radiating like a storm, and Sylvia, trapped in magical bindings, kneeling before him but burning with defiance.
Rocky summoned a small surge of gravitational energy, bending the air slightly to mask his approach. One push, one step at a time, and he entered.
Inside, the throne room was a cathedral of shadow. Lightning flickered along jagged walls, illuminating the Dark Knight Lucifer, towering and imposing. Sylvia struggled against the bindings, sword glowing faintly with defiant magic.
"Rocky…" she whispered, eyes locking on him. Even in chains, her gaze was fierce, a mixture of relief and warning.
He didn't answer. Instead, he raised his hand, channeling the full resonance of his Summon Boosts. The spectral wolves, shadow slimes, and fragments of gravitational energy swirled around him like a storm.
"Time to end this," he muttered, and the castle seemed to tremble in anticipation.
Rocky's boots barely made a sound as he crossed the obsidian floor of the throne room. His boosted summons swirled around him—spectral wolves prowling, shadow slimes writhing, and the faint echo of gravitational energy pulsing in anticipation. Every sense he had was heightened. Every heartbeat screamed urgency.
Sylvia knelt at the center of the room, her bindings glowing faintly with dark energy. Her eyes locked on him, and for a fleeting moment, hope sparked in Rocky's chest.
"Hold on, Sylvia… I'm coming," he muttered, raising his hand. The gravitational energy around him rippled, his summoned forces resonating like a storm ready to break.
Then, Lucifer moved.
It was almost casual. He lifted a single arm. The air didn't tremble. No roar echoed through the hall. And yet, the moment his hand waved, everything changed.
A pulse of dark energy surged outward, faster than thought, slicing through space itself. Rocky barely had time to react. His summons screamed, their forms flickering and shattering in the immense force. The gravitational energy he had worked to perfect—**Summon Boosts, spectral wolves, shadow slimes—all of it—**collapsed like paper under a storm.
Rocky's chest exploded in a single, devastating strike. Pain unlike any he had ever known tore through him. He crumpled to the floor, breathless, vision blurring. The world around him fragmented into shadows and echoes.
Sylvia's eyes widened, horror mixing with fury. She struggled against her bindings, shouting, "Rocky!"
But he could barely move, barely think. Lucifer's dark silhouette towered over him, arm still extended lazily, aura radiating absolute power. The throne room itself seemed to shrink beneath the weight of his presence.
For the first time, Rocky—the legendary summoner, master of quadrillions of slimes, wielder of the Gravitational Force Dragon—felt utterly powerless.
Lucifer's voice, calm, icy, and unrelenting, cut through the hall:
"So… the famous summoner dares to enter my domain. Pathetic."
Rocky's vision darkened. Pain and disbelief clouded his mind. The battlefield outside, the slimes, even his bond with Sylvia—all of it felt distant, unreachable.
The Dark Castle seemed to laugh in shadows around him.
And in that moment, Rocky realized something terrifying: this fight would not be won by power alone.
It would require cunning, strategy… and every ounce of heart he had left.