The air changed before the floor did.
One moment the tunnel ahead looked like just another molten corridor—the usual cracked stone, the usual warm breath of the forge drifting from deeper pockets. Then… something shifted. Subtle, almost polite, like the floor clearing its throat before revealing something important.
A faint hum rolled across the stone. Low. Metallic. Not a creature.
A mechanism.
I slowed instinctively. My shadows tightened under my skin, little ripples shivering along my spine. They didn't like this place. Or maybe they recognized it.
The tunnel widened abruptly into a cavern. Huge. Perfectly circular. Too perfect. Pillars shaped like layered blades stood around the chamber's edge, angled inward, pointing toward the center.
A forge once stood here—but this wasn't like the broken anvils earlier.
This one felt… intact.
Mostly.
Heat shimmered over everything. Not wild heat. Controlled. Like the room breathed in a steady rhythm.
At the center, on a circular dais, stood a figure.
Not alive.
Not dead.
Forged.
Humanoid in shape, but stretched taller—slender metal limbs crafted from folded plates of obsidian-black alloy. Four weapons hovered around its body, orbiting slowly like planets:
a molten blade that dripped sparks,
an obsidian cleaver,
a chained spear,
a half-melted shield cracked down the middle.
The weapons didn't hang.
They floated, each aligned with invisible essence threads.
Its head was smooth and featureless except for one glowing slit across the front—like a forge window.
A faint vibration pulsed out of it and through the floor.
Not a roar.
Not a warning.
A test.
"…Great," I muttered. "One of these."
The Forgebound Warden shifted slightly, and the weapons stopped their slow orbit. They angled toward me. Not fast—just deliberate. Measuring distance. Weight. Threat.
A guardian made to judge.
The Shadeborn must've been watching from somewhere—evaluating me, pushing me here like cattle to slaughter.
Or to ascension.
Couldn't tell.
The Warden raised an arm. Its fingers unfolded like sharpened tongs.
The chained spear snapped toward me without warning.
Reflex. Blink—
No, the heat distortion tugged sideways again. I reappeared half a meter to the left, almost impaling myself on the spear anyway.
It ripped past my ribs, carving heat into the air.
"Too close," I hissed.
The spear snapped back to the Warden's hand, orbit resuming instantly.
Fine. So that's how this was going to be.
I lowered myself. Claws slid out.
The Warden responded by straightening, weapons floating a little higher, forming a cross-shape around it. The molten blade flared briefly, dripping sparks that sizzled on the stone.
A moment of stillness.
Then—
it moved.
Not lumbering.
Not mechanical.
Fluid.
The molten blade shot out first, sweeping horizontally. I ducked under it—barely—and leapt forward, trying to close distance. The cleaver swung down next, aiming for my shoulder. Blink—
Heat drag again. Overshot.
I fell forward and rolled as the cleaver struck where I'd been, carving a trench through stone.
The Warden didn't rush. It didn't chase. It rotated slightly and sent the spear again, this time in a weaving arc meant to herd me.
It was controlling the battlefield.
I kicked off a pillar and circled around it, trying to break the Warden's line of sight. The molten blade arced over the pillar's edge without needing eyes.
"...Does this thing see heat? Essence? Both?"
Probably both.
The spear curved back, the chain rattling faintly. The Warden's head tilted a few degrees, almost curious.
It wasn't trying to kill me fast.
It was analyzing.
Testing.
Fine.
I Blinked—timed in a pocket where the heat distortion thinned—and landed beside the pillar's base. The Warden's cleaver slammed into the stone, sending debris flying.
Finally, an opening.
I dashed out, claws ready, and slashed at the joint of its right arm. My claws screeched against metal, sparks bursting—
Too hard.
Its armor wasn't simple alloy. Essence-forged.
The Warden lifted the molten blade, stabbing downward point-first. I twisted aside, the blade leaving a burning crack through the floor.
It grabbed the cleaver telekinetically and swung it behind me. I ducked again.
This wasn't a brute.
It was a weapon master.
The spear shot toward me again. Blink—
Dragged again. I landed mid-step and stumbled.
Warden closed distance—finally moving itself instead of its weapons.
It brought two weapons forward simultaneously:
Molten blade aimed at my chest.
Cleaver aimed at my tail.
I threw myself backward. The blade grazed my torso—burning a line through shadow-flesh. The cleaver clipped the end of my tail; pain shot up my spine.
"Damn it—!"
I slashed upward across its torso. Metal dented slightly, but that was all.
The Warden's "head" tilted again.
Judging.
The shield rotated, positioning itself between my next strike and the core.
The spear retracted fully, then shot out with double speed.
I Blinked—
—and THIS time, I caught the distortion before it dragged me. I leaned into it, letting it pull me sideways.
I reappeared behind the Warden.
Finally.
I drove my claws toward its back—
The shield snapped around and blocked the strike. The Warden twisted impossibly fast, molten blade humming through the air toward my arm.
I ripped my claws back, barely avoiding losing a limb.
It was reading me. Learning me.
Adaptive.
Just like me.
That thought hit harder than I expected.
Fine. If it learned me, I'd learn it faster.
The Warden kicked, a fluid sweep that hit harder than stone. I flew across the chamber, slammed into a pillar, and shook off the impact.
A soft metallic hum filled the room.
The Warden raised its four weapons at the same time.
Oh.
Oh, that wasn't good.
The molten blade flared bright.
The cleaver vibrated, edges sharpening.
The spear chain rattled like a warning.
The cracked shield pulsed with runes.
A full-pattern attack.
It launched.
Four weapons came for me at once.
Too fast to dodge all.
I Blinked—
Predicting the distortion this time, pushing myself into its pull—
I ended up in the gap between two weapon paths.
The spear grazed my shoulder—burning deep.
But I survived the pattern.
The Warden noticed.
Its head slit pulsed brighter.
I charged.
It rotated its weapons in a defensive arc.
I ducked under the spear, rolled past the molten blade, and slammed my claws against its knee joint.
A crack.
Small, but real.
The Warden recoiled, jerking backward.
There.
A weakness.
I Blinked behind it again, reading the distortion as it formed—
got it right this time—
and drove my claws at the joint again.
CRACK—
The joint bent.
The Warden staggered.
The molten blade flew toward me—
I ducked—
The cleaver slammed down—
I rolled—
The spear homed toward my ribs—
I twisted out of its path.
The Warden tried to reset its posture, but the stall in its movement told me I had damaged something critical.
No time to think.
I jumped, climbed its back, and wrapped my claws around its head. The head slit glowed bright—reacting—trying to overload.
I smashed my claws into the slit.
Metal dented, glowing essence spilling out like molten droplets.
The Warden convulsed—
Then flung itself backward—
Slamming me into the ground.
Air punched out of me—reflexively.
It rose, staggered, the weapons orbiting erratically.
The spear flickered.
The molten blade sputtered.
The shield's runes flickered dead.
The cleaver still hovered.
Good enough.
I forced myself up.
The Warden lifted its hand as if to bring its weapons back in line.
I Blinked forward—
Perfect distortion timing—
And brought my claws down in a brutal cross-slash across the core.
The slit burst.
Light spilled.
Essence screamed.
The Warden shuddered once.
Then collapsed onto one knee.
Its weapons clanged to the ground.
And the core dimmed.
Essence poured out—hotter than anything before, thick and heavy, like molten shadow being forced into me. My limbs shook. Shadows writhing under my skin.
[Devour Successful]
[Massive Essence Acquired]
[Predation Level: 7.9 → Threshold Reached]
[Tier Advancement Triggered]
[Evolution Imminent: NIGHTBOUND REAVER]
My body locked up.
Heat surged.
Shadows coiled violently.
Bones strained.
Limbs trembled.
Vision dimmed.
Floor 3 spun around me.
The world folded inward—
—and my body began to break.
No—
Not break.
Reforge.
The Tier 3 evolution started.
Arc 2 was ending.
The darkness closed in, and something new—something sharp, hungry, and fast—stirred beneath my ribs.
It wanted out.
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