Chapter 44: The Trials of the Abyss
The eerie stillness of the resting chamber was shattered by Stem’s sudden announcement.
“I have determined the completion parameters for this dungeon.”
Marcus, still stretching his arms from the last fight, perked up. “Finally! Lay it on me.”
“To exit this space, you must defeat ten bosses.”
Vira groaned. “Ten?! We’re barely past five, and I already feel like I’ve been chewed up and spit out.”
Marcus smirked. “Then let’s make sure we’re the ones doing the chewing from here on out.”
Vira rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a small grin. “You’re impossible.”
The sixth chamber was… different.
Unlike the grand arenas or eerie cathedrals they had fought in before, this place resembled a murky swamp, shrouded in thick mist. Gnarled trees stretched skyward like skeletal hands, and an unnatural stillness clung to the air. A rusted, abandoned cabin sat at the far edge of the battlefield, its wooden boards warped with age.
Vira shivered. “I don’t like this place.”
Marcus took a step forward, the ground squelching beneath his boots. “Yeah, definitely creepy.”
Then, the temperature dropped.
The torches lining the walls flickered out, plunging them into darkness. The only light came from the eerie, pale moon that hung high in the sky—a sky that shouldn’t have been there.
A slow, deliberate crunch echoed from the mist.
Marcus turned toward the sound, his muscles tensing. “Vira, we’ve got company.”
From the shadows, a towering figure emerged.
He was massive—easily seven feet tall—clad in a tattered, dirt-stained jumpsuit. A bulky, weathered mask covered his face, its chipped edges revealing hints of something grotesque beneath. His shoulders heaved with slow, rhythmic breaths, and in one hand, he dragged a rusted machete, its jagged edge gleaming in the dim light.
He didn’t charge.
He didn’t roar.
He just stood there. Watching. Waiting.
Marcus exhaled sharply. “Oh, hell no.”
Vira took a step back. “What kind of dungeon boss doesn’t attack right away?”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “The kind that wants us to run.”
A slow, deliberate tilt of the masked figure’s head confirmed Marcus’ suspicion.
Vira gulped. “Okay. New plan. We kill it before it—”
The boss vanished.
No sound. No movement. Just gone.
Then—
A shadow loomed behind Marcus.
Instinct screamed.
Marcus rolled forward, barely avoiding the massive swinging machete that carved through the space he had just occupied. He spun on his heel, fists raised.
The boss didn’t chase him.
It turned—slowly, methodically—its empty gaze now locked onto Vira.
“VIRA, MOVE!” Marcus shouted.
Vira didn’t hesitate. She hurled a fireball, the explosion engulfing the masked figure in flames. For a moment, it seemed to work—until a massive, charred hand emerged from the fire, completely unfazed.
Marcus blinked. “Are you kidding me?!”
Vira’s voice cracked. “It’s not burning?! Everything burns!”
The masked figure advanced toward her, slow but unrelenting, its weapon raised.
Marcus launched forward, his fist colliding with the monster’s chest. A normal enemy would have staggered.
This one?
It didn’t even flinch.
Marcus gritted his teeth. “Alright, big guy, let’s see how you handle a real fight.”
He moved fast, weaving around the slow, predictable swings. The boss wasn’t smart, but it was relentless—each attack carried brute force that could turn a normal fighter into paste.
But Marcus wasn’t normal.
Neither was Vira.
They tag-teamed the monster, Marcus keeping its attention while Vira bombarded it with spells, chipping away at its seemingly endless endurance.
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The fight stretched on longer than expected. No matter how many times they hit it, the damn thing kept getting back up.
Eventually, Marcus had enough.
The next time the boss lunged, Marcus stepped into the attack—ducked under the swing—and slammed a lightning-infused uppercut into its chin.
The impact sent the masked behemoth hurtling backward, crashing through the rotten cabin wall in an explosion of debris.
Silence.
Then—
The cabin collapsed on top of it.
Marcus and Vira stood there, panting.
A long pause.
Then Marcus turned to Vira.
“I’m not checking if it’s dead.”
Vira exhaled. “Good. Neither am I.”
A chime confirmed their victory.
Boss Defeated – Path Forward Unlocked
Before stepping into the seventh chamber, Stem’s voice hummed in Marcus' mind, a rare moment where even the ever-calculating system seemed to be piecing together something larger than expected.
“I have formulated a theory regarding the purpose of this dungeon.”
Marcus wiped the sweat from his brow, rolling his shoulders as his body still hummed with the aftereffects of the last battle. “Lay it on me.”
“This is not a dungeon designed for conquest or resource farming. It is a trial—a proving ground.”
Vira frowned, brushing soot from her arm. “Proving ground for what?”
Stem hesitated. That alone made Marcus pay more attention.
“There are anomalies in the structure of this place. Unlike typical dungeons, this one does not spawn creatures—it does not generate monsters as a means of defending itself. Each boss you have fought was not born here. They were placed here.”
Vira’s brows knitted together. “Placed? By who?”
“Unknown. But the patterns suggest intent. This dungeon does not act as a prison. It does not hoard treasure, nor does it serve the natural decay of time like older, abandoned dungeons. It exists to test.”
Marcus crossed his arms. “So what, some cosmic being decided to build the ultimate gauntlet and just… left it here?”
“Possible. Or perhaps it is still watching.”
The weight of the words settled between them like an iron anvil.
Marcus exhaled, looking around at the ancient, worn stone that had withstood ages of battle. If what Stem was saying was true, then this place had seen warriors before them—thousands, maybe more.
But who made it?
And what were they looking for?
Vira shifted uneasily. “And what happens if we pass this test?”
Stem’s response was immediate. “I do not know.”
Silence stretched between them.
Marcus clenched his fists. "Well, guess there's only one way to find out."
No more hesitation. No more questions.
They stepped forward—toward their next challenge.
The next chamber was massive—far larger than any they had faced before. Towering above them stood a colossal titan, its bronze-plated body covered in glowing runes.
Its massive hands gripped a warhammer the size of a carriage, and its molten eyes locked onto them with divine fury.
Marcus cracked his knuckles. “Alright, big guy. Let’s dance.”
The fight was a symphony of coordination.
Marcus and Vira moved like one entity, their synergy honed through battle.
Marcus stayed close, dodging the titan’s earth-shaking swings while striking at its joints, forcing it to overextend.
Vira capitalized on every opening, her spells striking weak points Marcus exposed.
It was a relentless back-and-forth—one mistake would mean instant death.
But they didn’t make mistakes.
Because they trusted each other.
And together, they brought the titan down.
As Marcus and Vira stepped into the next chamber, something immediately felt wrong.
The air wasn’t thick with malice or brimming with the raw power of a monstrous enemy. There was no tremor in the stone, no guttural growl from the shadows. Instead, there was silence.
Not the comforting silence of rest—but an oppressive, suffocating void.
Then—
The room shifted.
A pulse rippled outward, distorting reality like a stone dropped into still water. The moment it hit, Marcus felt his stomach lurch. He wasn’t standing next to Vira anymore.
He spun on his heel, expecting to see her somewhere close, but—nothing.
The arena had changed.
Where once had been a shared battleground, now stretched two identical but separate chambers.
Vira was gone.
A barrier of pure black divided the two spaces. Translucent, shifting, almost liquid—he could see her silhouette on the other side, faint and distorted, but he couldn’t reach her.
She was moving, turning in circles, fists clenched. She had realized it too.
Before he could call out—
The boss materialized.
Or rather, their bosses materialized.
Two forms emerged—one in Marcus’ chamber, one in Vira’s.
They were identical.
Tall, clad in formless armor, their bodies lacked detail, as if they had been sculpted out of the very void itself. Their faces were obscured—no eyes, no mouth, just an empty hollow.
But they moved with purpose.
Marcus’ instincts screamed. He raised his fists, shifting into stance, but—
The moment he did, so did the entity.
It mimicked him perfectly.
Vira's voice, though muffled through the barrier, reached his ears. "Marcus! It’s copying me!"
He gritted his teeth. Damn it.
This wasn’t a battle of strength. It was a battle of will.
The creatures weren’t just opponents. They were reflections.
Marcus threw a jab.
The entity countered with the exact same speed.
Vira conjured a fireball.
Her counterpart raised a hand and formed the exact same spell.
This wasn’t just imitation.
It was a contest.
Marcus exhaled slowly. "Okay. I see how this works."
It wasn’t about being stronger.
It was about being better.
He lunged, feinting a left hook before transitioning into an uppercut. The entity mirrored the feint but not the transition. It had anticipated the first move—but not the second.
His fist slammed into the void creature’s torso, sending a ripple through its formless body. It staggered.
It had limits.
Marcus grinned. "Gotcha."
Vira was already adjusting. Instead of overpowering her copy with raw mana, she switched tactics.
Instead of casting, she manipulated.
She let her fireball fade—not dismissing it, but redirecting its energy into a swirling vortex of wind.
Her copy hesitated. It expected fire.
That hesitation was all she needed.
Vira twisted her fingers, reshaping the wind into shards of hardened air. She flicked her wrist—the shards shot forward like daggers.
The entity’s fireball dispersed, unable to counter an attack it hadn’t prepared for.
The void boss reeled back.
They were winning.
The trick wasn’t power.
It was forcing change.
The void creatures relied on their ability to mimic. They copied, adjusted, and reacted—but they weren’t creative.
Marcus pressed forward, using unpredictable movement, switching from orthodox boxing into erratic footwork, throwing strikes from unexpected angles.
Vira shifted between elements, chaining together techniques in ways that defied logical progression.
The entities struggled to keep up.
The more Marcus fought, the more he felt it.
This wasn’t just a battle.
It was a test.
A test of who they were—not just their combat prowess, but their adaptability, their resolve.
Their will.
And Marcus?
He had more will than anyone.
With one final burst of speed, he dodged right, feinted left—then drove a full-force punch into the entity’s core.
The void shattered.
A moment later—
A massive explosion of mana erupted from Vira’s side of the chamber.
The barrier flickered.
Then—it vanished.
The two stood there, catching their breath, staring at the now-empty battlefield.
Marcus exhaled, grinning through his exhaustion. "Well, that sucked."
Vira chuckled breathlessly. "You think?"
A chime echoed.
Boss Defeated.
Marcus rolled his shoulders. "Alright. Two more."
Vira’s smile faded slightly, her gaze drifting toward the looming doorway ahead.
They had passed the test.
But something told them—
The real fight was just beginning.