Chapter 13: Trial Of Ascension 2 Hollow Dungeon — First Floor
The Trial of Ascension: Lucian Black
The moment Lucian stepped deeper, the dungeon shifted.
It wasn’t just the air—though that was colder now. It was the silence. Thick. Watching. Waiting.
He walked slowly. Controlled. Every footstep echoed like a heartbeat through hollow bones.
Then it came.
The first monster.
It emerged from the corner of the corridor—twisted, pale, like a wolf that had been stretched too long, its spine cracking with each movement. Its jaw unhinged wider than it should, lined with rows of jagged, uneven teeth.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. "Let’s test this properly."
The creature leapt.
He vanished.
[Fold Step]
Lucian blinked from his position—reappearing behind the beast mid-air—and drove his elbow straight into its neck.
It crashed into the ground.
It screeched, spinning unnaturally, but Lucian was already gone again. Another fold. Another angle.
He danced through space like a shadow out of rhythm.
The monster slashed with its claws—slicing nothing but air.
Lucian raised his hand and whispered under his breath, "Slow down."
[Temporal Slow]
The air shimmered.
The creature moved—but not really. Its actions dragged like it was wading through molasses.
Lucian circled it. Calm. Calculated.
He flicked his wrist, and energy pulsed through the air—thick, like glass snapping.
[Spatial Lock]
A cube of compressed space crushed down on the monster like a vice. Bones cracked. The creature shrieked.
Lucian’s hand pulsed with light. A simple blade formed from raw mana—blue, sharp, humming with distortion.
One step forward. A clean slice.
The creature fell, head severed, twitching in slow motion even in death.
The lock faded. Time returned.
Lucian stood over the corpse.
"Next."
— — —
Floor One — Midpoint
The deeper he went, the darker it got. Not because of the torches—they still flickered with ghostly blue fire—but because the walls themselves began to breathe.
They pulsed faintly. Veins in stone. Like the dungeon was alive.
Lucian walked calmly. The weight of mana pressing down didn’t bother him. He had infinite reserves. All that mattered now was pace. Flow.
Then—
He froze.
The floor ahead split open.
From the darkness rose three figures. Tall. Armor of bone and black metal. No eyes. No mouths. Only crackling blue cores embedded in their chests. They raised rusted halberds, each tip glowing faintly with cursed runes.
"Sentinels," Lucian muttered. "Perfect."
The one on the left charged.
Lucian didn’t blink.
[Chrono Sense]
The moment before the strike came, time split open in his mind. Three seconds ahead. He saw the blade. The spin. The feint.
He moved before it even began.
Fold Step—behind it.
Slice. Elbow. Knee.
Metal crunched. The sentinel shattered into shards.
The other two moved in tandem—faster.