Leon and Haruhi floated in the stagnant, mana-thick air of the 80th floor as ti began to slip away.
One hour turned into two.
It was a stark reminder that battles at Level 10 were marathons, not sprints. Even when Leon had fought enemies of similar caliber in the past, the duels had lasted for hours. To kill an opponent of this magnitude required not just overwhelming force, but the systematic erosion of their vitality and magic power.
During these two hours, the "clearing" of the upper deep floors was completed.
Finn, Gareth, Riveria, and the rest of the elite expeditionary force arrived at the 80th floor, joining Leon and Haruhi. The group sat or leaned against the jagged rock walls, resting their weary bodies while they watched the earth-shattering spectacle unfolding in the center of the wasteland.
"What a terrifying level of power." Finn murmured as he watched a shockwave from Ais's sword ripple across the floor.
"Aye." Gareth grunted, nodding. "The Corrupted Spirit is undoubtedly at Level 10, but Ais... she's giving it everything she has. I've never seen her like this."
Alicia watched with a face full of undisguised envy. "To experience such a massive surge of growth in the middle of a life-and-death struggle... it's the dream of every adventurer. Usually, that only happens when you're a rookie. To see it happen at this level is simply outrageous."
Allen scoffed, though his eyes betrayed the sa burning desire for such a breakthrough.
The others remained silent, their hearts heavy with the realization that they were witnessing the birth of a legend that would overshadow their own achievents.
Eventually, the conversation shifted from the imdiate battle to the crisis above.
Finn turned his eyes toward Leon. "Leon, what is the status of the Black Dragon? And the companions we left at the 50th-floor camp—are they safe?"
The rest of the group leaned in, their fatigue montarily forgotten. They knew Leon had prepared contingencies, and they had seen him order Ais to stay back when the dragon fled. They needed to know if their ho still stood.
Leon reassured them, his voice calm, "The companions at the camp are safe and sound. I had Ellie and June intercept the dragon before it reached the surface. However, the black dragon was too powerful to be fully contained. It broke through and reached Orario, causing significant structural damage to the central district."
He paused, letting the news sink in before offering the silver lining. "Fortunately, it did not initiate an attack. After erging, it simply turned and left Orario. The city is damaged, but it hasn't been destroyed."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the group.
"That's good." Tiona chirped, wiping sweat from her forehead. "As long as everyone is okay, we can rebuild."
"I wouldn't celebrate just yet. Do you know where it went?" Leon said, a small, knowing smile appearing on his lips.
"Where?" Tiona asked, her head tilting curiously.
"To the end of the world. Specifically, to the domain of the One-Eyed Black Dragon." Leon replied.
The silence that followed was heavy.
The relief that had filled the room vanished, replaced by a cold, prickling sensation of dread.
"My thumb... it's starting to hurt again. It hasn't twitched once since we started this expedition, not even when the dragon first appeared. But now... now it's throbbing." Finn said, his brow furrowing as he stared at his hand.
"It's not just you. I feel it too. A bad on." Gareth muttered.
The others nodded in solemn agreent.
Leon looked at Finn's thumb, his lips twitching slightly. "Your finger is starting to feel like a conceptual-level precognitive sensor, Finn. But don't worry yourself over it."
He turned back toward the flickering lights of the battle in the distance. "If the sky falls, there are tall people to hold it up. I can handle whatever cos next, so focus on the task at hand."
Finn laughed. "Haha! I suppose I'll have to rely on your shoulders then, Leon."
No one disputed Leon's claim. In their current state, none of them—not even the Level 7 elites—posed a shadow of a threat to a Level 10 dragon. Only Leon stood as a pillar of true, independent strength.
It was a surreal realization for the veterans. Just months ago, they were the undisputed masters of the dungeon, dealing with Level 5 and 6 threats.
Now, Level 7s were considered "easy," and they were casually discussing the movents of Level 10s.
All of it was because of the man standing before them.
The group turned their attention back to the final battle for now.
The battle was finally drawing to a close.
Normally, the Corrupted Spirit could sustain itself indefinitely by siphoning energy from the Dungeon. However, the Dungeon had been drained dry by its own frantic attempts to stop Leon. The floors were hollowed out, and the energy usually used for regeneration had been spent.
The Corrupted Spirit was starving. Its power was being consud piece by piece, with no way to replenish its reserves.
Ais, conversely, was at the peak of her power. Bathed in the restorative light of Leon's Gate of Heaven and bolstered by Haruhi's level-boosting power, she was an unstoppable force of nature.
The Corrupted Spirit's defense had crumbled, its movents becoming sluggish and desperate.
Leon's internal clock ticked down.
Less than half an hour, he predicted.
He was right. In less than thirty minutes, Ais's swirling winds coalesced into a final, blinding strike.
With a roar that shook the very foundations of the 80th floor, Ais delivered the blow that brought the Corrupted Spirit to its knees.
—
The 80th floor was a landscape of absolute desolation, a testant to the cataclysmic exchange that had just concluded.
Despite the Gate of Heaven being active, pouring down rays of restorative brilliance, Ais was a map of agony. Her armor was reduced to scrap tal, and her skin was patterned with deep lacerations and burns that even Leon's Gate of Heaven struggled to knit back together in real-ti.
Had it not been for the Gate of Heaven, Ais would have crossed the threshold of death at least twice during the final, desperate struggle.
The "invincibility" buff Leon had bestowed upon Ais was a miracle, but the Corrupted Spirit's own reservoir of power was a nightmare.
Having siphoned the energy of the 75th through 79th floors for years, it possessed a biological immortality that allowed it to reconstruct its flesh at the cost of its accumulated mana. But even that well had run dry.
Now, it lay broken. A massive, jagged hole had been blasted through its abdon. One arm and one leg were gone, severed in the final flurry of Desperate.
Its once-vibrant erald skin had turned a sickly, ashen gray, withering like parchnt left too close to a fla. It slumped on the cracked bedrock.
Ais stood over the creature, the tip of her blade pressed firmly against its forehead. Her face, though scarred and streaked with blood, was eerily calm.
"You understand , don't you?" Ais's voice was steady. "Why were you looking for Aria?"
For ten years, Ais had carried the weight of a daughter who believed her mother was lost to the flas of the war. But as she stared into the fading eyes of the Corrupted Spirit, the suspicion that had been festering in her heart since the first encounter on the 59th floor finally erupted into a conviction.
The Corrupted Spirit had sought her out as her mother. It had called her "Aria." It had obsessed over her bloodline.
Such a singular focus suggested that Aria wasn't just a mory or a ghost—she was a target. And you do not hunt a target that is already dead.
User Comments
0 comments from readers