"Such an ominous feeling? The number of floors? The mind-boggling kill list. I just can't shake off the feeling...." A thought.
He took a moment to observe his surroundings.
Darkness seemed to pulse with an evil energy.
A few torches that lined the walls, casting flickering shadows on the stone floor. Eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light.
Monsters roamed-weak slimes. their gelatinous bodies quivering with life. Small creatures in resemblance to jelly. See through. Different in colour.
"These are too weak" , he thought.
He passed by them.
No fighting intent towards slimes.
Though his sword at the ready, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the corridor. Rubber saws pounding ground.
He stopped.
"But then again. Weak or not they are still monsters, I need to at least raise my number of kills", A sudden thought.
In a quick motion, he unsheathed the sword, the scabbard to his left, sword to the right, and killed every slime he could see, with each kill, A digital screen midair increased the number of the total kills.
The sound of dying slimes like a chorus of screams.
He killed 24 slimes by cutting off their cores, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision.
Killing slimes he slowly but surely climbed the tower, stairs served as a path way to the next floor. Welcomed by a door large door at the top.
Along the way he found a menagerie of monsters: slimes that oozed and splattered, that chattered, and squeaked, hobgoblins grunted and snarled, lesser demons with animal and human features mixed, they spat and screeched, the air thick with the stench of death and decay.
The lesser demons were a new experience. Though he got used to taking care of them quickly.
He also encountered knolbolts, his total kills rising to 102 in an hour, the sound of monsters dying, like a symphony of death.
Unfazed, he, with deadly precision, slaughtered, he stabbed, sliced his way through the enemies, his sword striking true and sure with calculated precision and power.
The swift punches and kicks flawless, he was an unparalleled force.
Or maybe the monsters were just weaker, the sound of his sword cutting through flesh, like a knife through butter.
Time passed by.
Cyan's progress was remarkable and easier than he'd thought, he climbed floor after floor.
Movements fluid and deadly, his training proving to be more superior, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the corridors, like a death knell.
He took down a goblin settlement of goblins and hobgoblins on floor 19, using his sword to deftly parry their attacks and then retaliate with deadly force, his encounter with the goblin king in his first gate had given him more experience on dealing with goblins, the sound of goblins dying, like a chorus of screams.
On floor seven, he encountered another group of slimes, which were finally starting to add a bit of resistance, they shot poison and acid towards him, but his speed proved to be on a whole different level, he dodged and dispatched them with ease, using kicks to send them flying into walls, since he couldn't risk his iron sword catching acid, the sound of slimes splattering, like a wet slap.
As the floors passed.
Cyan began to feel a sense of familiarity with the dungeon's layout, his mind processing the patterns and connections between the monsters and the environment.
He started predicting the monsters he might encounter on the floors above, depending on the type of monster he found, like undead (zombies) and more, his brain working like a computer, analyzing and adapting.
He began to develop a rhythm to his fights, it almost seemed like he was in his element.
In two hours, he had demolished 25 more floors without sparing a single monster he encountered, not even one alive in his wake, leaving the down floors without monsters roaming free, his total kill count "379".
The digital screen displayed.
He continued.
The sound of his sword cutting through flesh, like a metronome, marking the passage of time.
On the 30th floor.
No monster was found in sight.
"That's strange?" he thought.
"I expected at the very least more undead... What a useless floor." he muttered to himself.
He sheathed back his sword into to the scabbard.
He looked around.
Nothing.
The silence almost deafening, though it was a welcomed respite from the constant carnage, He sat.
A few minutes later.
He stood.
Sword still clenched in his hand, the weight of it feeling familiar, an extension of his own body.
The floor was dimly lit.
Torches flickering in the corners, casting shadows on the walls.
The air was thick with the scent of smoke and sweat, and the faint tang wrotten blood. Not his.
He stood there, frozen in time.
"Each floor has its own unique monster. An unknown surprise to look forward to. How ever I am still encountering monsters from the first to the current upper floors" he thought
And paused.
"I need to be more careful. carelessness is just another means of destruction."
Mind processing the events of the past hour.
Body relaxed, yet ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
He walked.
Step by Step
Hand gripped on the center his sheathed sword.
"There's a chance I my encounter something poisonous too. This should be my top priority. Knowing my weaknesses. Right now my current age is 10 and my aura hasn't progressed to a level that notifies dangerous poison." he thought.
He walked.
Silence.
Then broken by the sound of his stomach growling, a reminder that he needed to refuel, to keep his body and mind sharp.
He placed his palm on his stomach and began to search the floor for any signs of food or water.
Senses on high alert, as he navigated the unfamiliar terrain. But found nothing to use as sustenance and to reduce hydration.
"Nothing here as well.... Sigh..."
He breathed.
"No problem. there's always plenty of chances to eat in a life time".
He paused.
"Wait. Now that I think about it. This might be some kind of of a safe zone devoid of monsters. I think Aris mentioned that... But... I wasn't paying attention at the time damn it"
He looked ahead. In the dark
"At least Rest is garenteed—" he thought.
Then—
Paused.
"Or maybe not?" he continued in thought.
He continued on his Parth.
Palm tightly tied to the hilt
The break on the 30th floor was short-lived, as he stood before the imposing door of the 31st floor.
Expression face, A mask of determination.
The lines etched on his forehead like a map of resolve.
Without a moment of hesitation, he took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs like a bellows, as he pushed open the door.
The old rusty door creaked open, like a protesting groan.
Wind rushed in.
Dust fell.
Cyan stepped inside, the darkness enveloping him like a shroud.
The inside was a cavern of shadows, the stairs leading up before him, like a serpentine path, the webs and dusty walls a testament to the building's ancient age, the air thick with the scent of decay and rot.
"More stairs? Thats new?" he thought to himself. Gaze locked upwards.
The weight of the dust settling on his skin, the particles dancing in the faint light that filtered through the cracks in the walls.
He narrowed his eyes. Probably adjusting to the darkness, like a predator's.
Followed by a deep stare, his eyes trying to pierce the faint darkness.
Then walked.
Calmly—footsteps echoing off the walls.
Only the sound of his own breathing the only sound that broke the silence. He arrived at the end of the stairs.
There was no door this time around. On a squire shaped Parth way.
He was welcomed by cold red glares that shone in the darkness like crimson lanterns, the sound of snarling and growling palpable, like a physical presence.
He unsheathed.
Scabbard left hand.
Blade right. (Katana shaped)
Heart rate increasing.
Hand tightening around the hilt of the sword.
He pointed his sword forward, preparing himself, his face a reflection of fearlessness and unyielding determination, eyes flashing with a fierce light.
(Glowed Red)
He charged, his iron sword shining in the dim light, footsteps echoing off the walls as he moved with deadly precision, the air filled with the sound of slashes and the stench of death.
Cutting down monster after monster in the dark, the sound of his assisting punches and kicks palpable. Like drum beats. monsters' screams, death howls and growls like a chorus of the damned.
END OF CHAPTER 27