The descent into Floor 3 began with heat.
Not the gentle warmth of the Veined Wilds' glowing veins, but the heavy, suffocating weight of a forge left burning for centuries. My claws sank into the darker stone as the slope dropped sharply, guiding me deeper into the labyrinth's pulse.
Then—
the world opened.
Floor 3 — The Gloomforge.
A cavern vast enough to swallow entire cities yawned before me. Obsidian pillars, thick as fortress towers, rose from the ground in uneven angles, each one etched with molten cracks that glowed like slow-moving magma. Heat shimmered in the air, bending light, distorting distance.
The air smelled faintly of scorched bone.
And metal.
I stepped forward, and the shadows here clung differently—
not loosely, like on Floor 1,
and not eagerly, like on Floor 2—
but heavily, as if forged under pressure.
A stone anvil taller than me stood near the entrance, half-melted by time. Runes scarred its surface, broken and twisted.
Behind it, walls carved with murals stretched across the cavern.
They weren't crude sketches.
They were stories.
One showed a tall shadow figure hammering glowing shapes into smaller beings — forging creatures out of darkness and heat.
Another depicted kneeling silhouettes in lines, as if awaiting judgment or creation.
A third…
a throne carved from the cavern wall itself.
Empty.
Cracked.
Shadow draped over it like a funeral cloth.
Foreshadowing whispered from every corner.
I didn't linger.
This place felt alive in a way the floors above never had.
Like the stone itself watched.
A low metallic clang echoed in the distance.
Then another.
Creatures.
Monsters.
Forged things.
I moved down the first slanted platform, my steps silent despite the hard surface. Shadows bled outward from beneath me, sensing the heat and adjusting to it, thinning in some parts and thickening in others.
Echo Sense pulsed.
Vibrations ahead — rhythmic.
Not random movement.
Hammering.
I blinked forward, closing distance between me and the sound, landing beside a molten fissure where essence surged through rock like glowing blood. The heat licked my claws, but Hydra Regeneration kept them stable.
Another clang.
Closer.
I lowered my body, slipping into the thickest band of shadow.
A creature stepped into view.
Tall.
Humanoid.
But not flesh.
A Forgeling — one of the semi-intelligent constructs of the Gloomforge.
Its body was sculpted from hardened shadow and stone, limbs elongated, bone shards embedded through its torso like armor. It held a crude bone hammer in one hand and a jagged slab of metal in the other.
It didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
Didn't sway.
It simply… existed.
And its head turned the moment I moved.
Even a whisper of shadow displacement made its carved face twitch toward me.
The sigils etched onto its mask glowed faintly in reaction.
Sentient enough to recognize intrusion.
Its voice grated like rocks grinding—
"—intruder—"
Not a roar.
Not a screech.
A statement.
It lifted its hammer and slammed it into the stone floor.
BOOM.
The shockwave shattered nearby pebbles, sending shrapnel skittering across the cavern.
Good.
Something I could test myself against.
I shifted forward—
—but Echo Sense pulsed a warning.
Fast movement.
Multiple directions.
Something else approached.
Two more Forgelings stepped out from the shadows of a broken forge pillar.
They carried glaives — long bone-blades infused with red-hot runes.
Coordinated.
The Shadeborn tribe's influence.
The first Forgeling charged, bone hammer raised.
I Blinked sideways —
or tried to.
A distortion in the air tugged at the edges of my Blink.
Heat pocket.
The Blink still completed, but farther left than intended.
Interesting.
Gloomforge interfered with short-range teleportation.
The hammer slammed into the spot I had been aiming for, cracking stone.
The other two Forgelings spun their glaives in tight arcs, forming a barrier of molten metal.
They were not beasts.
They fought with pattern, formation, intent.
Shadeborn influence ran deep here.
I stepped back, letting the cavern's faint orange glow outline their silhouettes.
One Forgeling screeched a command-like tone.
The others obeyed instantly.
So they did have rank.
The glaive-wielders charged together, crossing their blades, forming a scissor-shape aimed at my torso.
Fast.
Coordinated.
Clean.
I Blinked above them—
—and the hammer Forgeling swung upward, preempting me.
Reflexes.
Predictive combat.
They weren't intelligent like humans—
but they were something between instinct and strategy.
I twisted mid-air, letting the hammer graze my ribs, then landed beside the closest glaive.
My claws cut through its torso—
—and met unexpected resistance.
Thick stone shell.
Reinforced with essence.
My blades scraped but didn't pierce fully.
Fine.
I Blinked behind it—
shadow bending around the heat pocket—
and slashed at the joint connecting its arm to its body.
Crack.
The arm fell away, clattering across the floor.
Black vapor leaked from the wound.
The Forgeling shrieked and swung wildly.
I moved past it, but the hammer Forgeling blocked my path—
too fast for its size.
Its hammer dropped with the force of a small boulder.
I rolled sideways as the hammer cratered stone.
The shockwave shook dust from the ceiling.
I Blinked again—
behind the second glaive-wielder—
and sliced its knee joint.
Another crack.
The creature collapsed.
The hammer Forgeling turned sharply, sigils glowing brighter, sensing weakness in its group.
It raised its hammer with both arms—
—and slammed it into the ground.
A massive shockwave tore through the cavern.
Stone split.
Air distorted.
Cracks raced outward from the impact.
I Bl—
No.
Too much distortion.
I sprinted instead.
The wave chased me, breaking stone behind me in precise fragments.
The hammer Forgeling didn't think like an animal.
It aimed.
It anticipated.
I dashed left, then right, the ground splitting where I had just moved.
Finally, the shockwave dissipated.
I Blinked behind the hammer Forgeling before it could raise its weapon again.
Shadow claws extended, fueled by essence gathered in my arms.
I slashed upward, carving open the creature's back.
The sigils flickered.
Its limbs faltered.
A second slash tore deeper.
The Forgeling collapsed to its knees.
The remaining two crawled weakly toward it, weapons dropped.
Not to fight.
To protect it.
A hierarchy.
A tribe-like structure.
Shadeborn influence indeed.
Their masks dimmed—
—as I plunged my claws into their cores.
CRACK.
Their bodies disintegrated into streams of essence, black and glowing red, like molten metal cooling mid-air.
Devour pulled everything inward.
Heat.
Force.
Memory.
[Devour Successful]
[Large Essence Acquired]
[Predation Level: 6.9 → 7.2]
[New Ability: Forge Pulse Resistance]
[Shadow Compatibility Enhanced]
Heat shimmer faded from my limbs, settling comfortably.
Good.
Forgelings were a warm-up.
The real threats were deeper.
A faint vibration hit Echo Sense.
Three soft taps.
Rhythmic.
Intentional.
Not Forgelings.
Something else.
Something watching.
In the shadows beyond the broken anvil, a figure moved—
tall, slender, holding a spear carved from shadowbone.
A sigil glowed faintly on its faceless mask.
A Shadeborn scout.
The first intelligent encounter.
It didn't attack.
Didn't move.
It simply raised a hand—
and extended a single finger toward me.
Not in greeting.
In judgment.
Then it stepped backward—
—vanishing into the deeper halls.
Not fleeing.
Leading.
I stepped forward.
Floor 3 hadn't just noticed me.
It was preparing for me.
And whatever lay deeper in this floor—
was ready.
The path toward Tier 3 evolution had finally begun.
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