The silence of the outer chamber was shattered by a sound that wasn't a moan, but the groan of a load-bearing structure failing. The Sylvan Sentry didn't walk; it unrolled. It was a mass of obsidian-black roots, intertwined to form a faceless humanoid torso, four meters tall. Instead of eyes, a single Grade E green rune burned at the center of what should have been the chest.
My brain processed the data in real-time, but for the first time, the numbers gave me no comfort.
[[ENEMY IDENTIFICATION] > Type: Silvan Sentinel (Elite - Grade E+)
Status: Border Guardian.
Probability of victory (without support): 4.2%
«I don't need probability», I whispered, gripping Korg's magic iron shield. The metal was dented, but the protection runes hummed still, fueled by my nervous energy. «I only need the right moment.»
The First Hour: The Dance of Wrecks
The fight began with a blow that would have pulverized a common NIL. One of the Sentry's roots snapped like a supersonic whip. I raised the shield. The impact threw me back five meters, feet digging deep furrows in the hydroponic mud. Pain exploded in my shoulders, a signal my brain immediately converted into a material resistance graph.
«Shield integrity: 88%. Left arm bone integrity: 92%.»
I couldn't win with strength. I had to win with friction.
For forty minutes, the battle was a sequence of millimetric dodges and desperate parries. The Sentry was a predator of pure biological logic: it didn't tire, it felt no mercy. Its roots sought to wrap around me, to penetrate open wounds. I used the iron rebar to sever the thinnest filaments, moving with the speed the Stabilizer granted me, but the cost was immense.
The neural cables under my skin began to overheat. I smelled burning flesh coming from my own arms. Every sprint, every leap, was a stab of agony I tried to archive as "background noise."
The Second Hour: The Breaking Point
«Lyla... your potions...» I wheezed, pulling out a mana vial stolen from the healer's corpse with my free hand.
I drank it in one gulp. The liquid tasted of ozone and bitter honey. It didn't regenerate my body, but it gave energy to the Stabilizer, allowing it to force my nerves to ignore imminent collapse signals.
The Sentry changed patterns. It began emitting a mist of corrosive spores. My brain calculated the air saturation time: I had less than ten minutes before my lungs began to liquefy.
I decided to risk the main asset.
I charged head-on, screaming not in rage, but to push the residual oxygen into my blood. The Sentry raised both root-arms to crush me. In that micro-instant, I threw Korg's shield. Not at the monster, but under its intertwined "feet."
The magic metal, struck by the Sentry's own roots, created a kinetic discharge that unbalanced the creature. It was a matter of millimeters. The colossus wobbled.
I threw myself into the void created between its defenses. The iron rebar, now glowing red from my implants' heat, aimed straight for the central rune. The Sentry tried to curl up, roots piercing my thighs and ribs. I heard the sound of my own femur cracking.
«Biological Integrity: 34%. Warning: Internal hemorrhage detected»
«DIE DAMN YOU!» I roared, pushing the rebar with all my body mass.
The metal pierced the rune. An explosion of blinding green light filled the room. Corrosive sap sprayed my face, burning my skin, but I didn't let go. I pushed until the sound of magic shattering drowned out my own cry of pure frustration.
The Sentry stiffened. Then, with a slow, agonizing movement, it began to fall apart. The roots lost tension, becoming simple dead wood falling heavily to the ground.
The Bitter Truth
I lay in the green mud for an indefinite time. My breath was a wet wheeze. I was alive. I had downed the Boss. I had used my wits to defeat a monster that would have required a whole party.
I crawled toward the creature's remains, fingers frantically searching for Legendary Loot. I found only a small, dull gem.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] > Target Eliminated: Silvan Sentinel (Elite - Grade E).
Loot acquired: Sap Essence (Grade E).
Status: Access corridor to the Boss Chamber unlocked.
Note: You took 148 minutes to eliminate a border guard. Combat efficiency: Pathetic
My brain froze. The world seemed to lose color. Border guard. That mountain of muscle and branches that had nearly killed me, for which I had sacrificed four human beings and destroyed my body, was just the appetizer. It was the waiter at the door.
And then, it happened.
From deep within the dungeon, beyond the newly unlocked corridor, came a sound. It wasn't an organic cry. It was a pure frequency, a roar of power that made the marrow of my bones vibrate. The air, already saturated with spores, suddenly became dense, heavy as liquid lead.
An immense shadow projected onto the cave walls. It was something ancient, something whose very breath consumed environmental mana. The magic pressure was so strong that the neural cables in my arms began to spark, short-circuiting.
WARNING: THE APEX OF THE LABYRINTH HAS AWAKENED] > [Magic Pressure Detection: Grade D+] > [Probability of Survival: 0.00001%]
The Mouse's Flight
Terror gripped my throat, primordial and visceral. It wasn't the terror of a man calculating risk; it was the reaction of an insect seeing the shadow of a boot descend upon it.
There was no logic. There was no calculation.
I turned and began to run. I ran with my right leg giving way at every step, dragging my useless left arm. I tripped over Korg and Lyla's corpses, stepping on their faces without even noticing. I was a wounded beast seeking the light.
I reached the exit portal as the dungeon's branches shook, as if the Labyrinth itself were laughing at my flight. I threw myself over the threshold just as the hydraulic doors closed with a boom that rang like a sentence.
The Awakening in the Mud
I re-emerged in Oakhaven's logistics district under a thin, cold rain. I was a heap of bloody rags, green mud, and filthy bandages.
«One came out! Look! It's the Shadow-Rank!»
Guards surrounded me, their shiny armor reflecting my misery.
«Where are the others? Where are Korg and his team?»
I fell to my knees, forehead pressed against the street's cold polymer. My excuse was ready, perfect, unassailable. «Dead...» I whispered, and this time I didn't have to fake the tremor. «The Boss... an ambush... it tore them to pieces in an instant. I'm the only one small enough to have slipped away... I ran like a rat...»
The guards exchanged looks of pity. "Tragic hero," "Sole survivor." My black legend grew, feeding on the corpses I had left behind.
But as they dragged me toward a stretcher, my brain regained control, ruthless and cold.
I looked at my hands. They were broken, burnt, weak. I had deluded myself. I had thought the Stabilizer and my potential had made me special. I had thought I was making it.
The reality was a bucket of ice water: I was still a piece of scrap. I was just a NIL who had learned to hide better. I had risked everything to down a gatekeeper, and the real master of the house hadn't even had to stand up to send me running terrified.
I was still at the bottom of the food chain. I was still a failure playing predator.
Day 86. Status: Survivor (by pure cowardice). Asset: A sap essence and a shattered soul. Lesson: You are nothing. Start calculating again from the bottom.