Sylas watched from above as a battle broke out between Thalrik and Israeal.
At first, it was a bit ridiculous. Neither of the two could find the other, so the settings began to lighten. Soon, Sylas was actually able to see with his own eyes rather than relying solely on his Progenitor Flame Ability.
The Dungeon was adjusting itself again.
Sylas and Jala had been able to maneuver in the darkness, so it had kept it dark. The others didn’t have this capability, so it was lightened for them. Presumably, as they grew more accustomed to it and gained other methods of navigating, the darkness would return.
The question was what would happen when they had vastly differing abilities.
Sylas had completely ignored Jala and Voryx at this point, his entire being focused on learning what he could from the battle below. He didn’t seem to care that Jala had seemingly still not recovered from his near-death experience.
Never did Jala think that he would die before he had a chance to show his full range of abilities. It was a reality check the likes of which shook him to his very core.
Seeing Sylas not even take the matter seriously was another slap to his face.
All the anger he felt toward Sylas dissipated into the wind. This wasn’t an opponent who saw him as an equal. Sylas saw him as a bug he could squash whenever he wanted. He probably found it ridiculous that he had been holding back in the first place.
What right did someone so weak have to hold back?
Jala looked down at his gauntlet-covered hands. His eyes seemed particularly dull at the moment, but he slowly clenched them.
A flash of light came from Jala that hadn’t been there just moments before. He regained his focus and stood tall and straight.
He had been given another chance at life. He would have to grasp it.
If this Dungeon wasn’t going to allow them to be killed, then he would have more opportunities to bide his time and turn things around in the future.
The timer on his Quest was the only thing holding him back right now, but he would deal with that too. If Sylas Grimblade was the man he had been chasing all this time, then he would just have to become more like him.
There was no doubt that there had been times in Sylas’ life when he had felt exactly like this.
Jala grit his teeth.
Suddenly, the battle below was over. Thalrik took a strong blow back and his head rattled. But just as it seemed like he was about to lose it, the Dungeon’s runes flashed and everything stabilized.
Soon, Thalrik and Israeal were both back in the air, formed into their spheres.
Thalrik didn’t seem surprised. In fact, he dusted himself off, spat out a mouthful of blood, and was already back to 100% soon after.
He knew, Sylas analyzed calmly.
Thalrik hadn’t been fighting all-out at all. Of course, neither was Israeal—not by a wide margin. But it seemed that everyone had already guessed what sort of Dungeon they were in after both Sylas and Jala came back alive.
Noticing Sylas’ gaze, Thalrik looked up with a grin. “It seems your luck is pretty bad.”
Sylas only looked at him, his expression not changing. There were no words Sylas had to say to these people at all.
Thalrik chuckled. “Your gaze is pretty interesting. I’m starting to wonder if that’s because you’re trying to hide what you’re really feeling, or if you’re really that calm.
“Usually, I would dismiss the latter completely. No one could be so calm right now, knowing the outside world is going to hunt them down like a dog very soon. But I dunno, you’ve got quite a pair of balls on you.”
Thalrik’s grin only grew wider as he continued to speak. Even when Jala and Voryx’s bubbles popped, sending them down below, he didn’t even look toward them—seemingly more fascinated by the idea of getting a reaction out of Sylas.
“That said… even the largest pair has its limits. I bet you thought you had everything in the bag, but one variable after another started to appear. Honestly, I kind of feel bad for you. You’re up to this all alone, you don’t have any backers, but you’ve actually made it so far. Unfortunately, there’s a limit to everything, and you’ve run into yours.
“You can’t expect the same trick to work twice, right?”
Thalrik’s voice droned on and on, so much so that the battle between Zoryx and Jala came to an end before he had finished his rant. He didn’t even seem to be doing it for a real purpose anymore. He was just having fun, not caring enough to take any of this seriously.
Jala was clearly still not using his full arsenal of tricks, but he had definitely used more now than he had before—just enough to try and learn from Zoryx.
The battle went on for far longer than his “spar” with Sylas had, both because he tried harder and because Sylas was, well… simply far stronger than Zoryx—something none of them had come into this expecting.
But a reality that simply didn’t matter right now.
Thalrik chuckled as he realized this too, but he was having the time of his life poking fun at things.
All that effort by the Petals of the Seeing Thorn and they had lost their True Chosen mark, and things would end up with the Trakar right in the position Thalrik wanted them to be in.
The spheres popped, and Sylas and Thalrik fell from above, landing on the ground below with just enough force to throw them off. Sylas found himself completely blinded, but for Thalrik, there was still some light left in the world.
Things had been adjusted, and each was given their personal difficulty.
Sylas hardly took the time to register this as he shot forward.
Thalrik’s laughter was still echoing, his hammers appearing in his hands. He figured he would pull out a little bit of his true strength to see what the gap really was.
Sylas suddenly blurred in his eyes. A swing of Thalrik’s hammer missed as a heavy palm slammed into the crook of his elbow. With the same fluid motion, Sylas kneed the giant’s inner thigh—the size difference between them so large it felt like he could weave in and out of the shadows of his body with ease.
Pain spiked through Thalrik’s body and he found that Sylas was far too close to swing his hammers at him.
But he also didn’t expect this to be the last thought he would ever have.
Sylas’ palm across the inside of his elbow swapped into a grip as he turned his back to the giant. The splitting in Thalrik’s legs opened him up just enough for the perfect hip throw.
There was a flash in Sylas’ eyes, a deep emerald, as he controlled his intention perfectly.
To the Dungeon, it was just a normal grappling maneuver. It would have never guessed that it could lead to such a thing.
But Thalrik felt it before it happened, all the blood draining from his face.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
He was a pile of ash the moment his back hit the ground.
Sylas stood to his full height, dusting the specks from his body just as a roaring rage came from the Dungeon.