I held the core in my hand, its faint glow pulsing with the energy I would need in the future. As I straightened up, I could feel the chamber shifting again—the dungeon’s magic preparing to send more illusions, more real threats hidden among the false.
The first wave had been manageable. The illusions were easy to see through once I understood the trick, and the real monsters had been sloppy, their presence betrayed by the subtle disturbance of death mana. But I knew better than to get comfortable. This dungeon wasn’t about to let me off easy.
And sure enough, the air shifted again. The temperature dropped, and I could feel the familiar hum of illusions weaving themselves into existence. The second wave was upon me.
SWOOSH!
The first elusive creature lunged forward, its fanged mouth snapping at the air around me. I sidestepped effortlessly, my estoc flashing out in a clean arc. Nothing. The illusion dissolved the moment my blade passed through it, as expected. But just behind it, hidden in the shadows, was something real. A flash of light reflected off its sharpened claws.
SWOOSH! SLASH!
Blood splattered once more as the second real monster fell, its body crumpling to the ground in a twisted heap. The same pattern, only now the illusions were growing more aggressive, more intertwined with the real.
[Again,] Vitaliara muttered. [They’re trying to overwhelm you; mix the real with the false. What is the point of all this even?]
“What is the point, you say,” I muttered, pulling my estoc free from the fallen creature, its blood pooling at my feet. “You’ll see the reason soon enough.”
I knew this dungeon, like everything Arlen Morrowind had designed, was far from random. Every test, every monster, every illusion served a purpose. It wasn’t about brute strength, not here. The first wave of Arachasaes had been deliberate—a classic dungeon setup to give me a sense of what to expect, to lull me into the idea that this was just another typical challenge.
Then the illusions had begun, weaving deception into the very fabric of the dungeon’s trials. It wasn’t merely about confusing me; it was meant to corrode my focus, wear down my resolve.
So, why these endless waves? Why the constant barrage of illusions mixed with the real?
The reason will reveal itself soon.
[Is that so?] Vitaliara said and I could sense the curiousness in her voice. [If that is what you say, then I will be waiting.]
“That would be nice.”
Saying that, I focused around myself once again.
More illusions swarmed around me, but I wasn’t fazed. My senses were honed now, finely tuned to the subtle differences in mana. Life and death energy wove together, and the real monsters stood out like beacons amidst the smoke of illusion.
The third wave came harder. Faster. The illusions were getting trickier, blending seamlessly with their real counterparts. But each time, I adapted. I’d let the false ones come close, just close enough to slip by, while my blade found its mark in the real ones. Each time, the feeling of cutting through real flesh was unmistakable.
SWOOSH! SLASH! SPURT!
The fifth real monster dropped, its core now in my hand, joining the others I’d collected. The chamber pulsed as if growing frustrated with my persistence. The waves kept coming, but I was unrelenting.
By the time the sixth wave came, I could feel the dungeon itself growing desperate. The illusions were no longer mere phantoms—they were layered with complexity, trying to confuse me, to mask the real threats with more cunning. But the rhythm had already settled in. I could anticipate the dungeon’s moves now.
One illusion darted forward; I didn’t even flinch. Another circled to my side, but I could feel the real monster approaching from behind.
SWOOSH! SLASH!
Another monster fell to the ground, its body crumpling as I yanked my blade free. The core joined the others in my hand, but I could feel the shift in the air once more. The dungeon wasn’t finished. Not yet.
Suddenly, I felt a presence—stronger, darker. A surge of mana rippled through the chamber, far more potent than anything I’d felt in the earlier waves. This wasn’t just another illusion or a low-level creature hiding among them. No, this one was real. And its strength was closer to mine.
Out of the swirling mass of illusions, the real threat emerged. Its massive form moved with unsettling grace for something so large.
This was a peak 3-star monster, a creature calledMazekar, its body a twisted fusion of jagged stone and dark, pulsing flesh. Its eyes glowed with a deep, sinister light, and its massive claws dripped with venomous energy.
I raised my estoc, but I knew immediately that this fight would be different.Mazekarwas no simple monster—it was intelligent and fast.
And most importantly a monster that could pose a threat to my life.
The illusions around me danced, shifting and twisting, making it harder to predict its movements. The mana in the chamber was thick with deception, each illusion a distraction, clouding my senses and masking the real threat’s true intent.
SWOOSH!
The beast lunged at me, its massive claws slashing through the air with terrifying speed. I dodged, barely, the wind from its strike brushing against my face. My eyes darted around, trying to see through the illusions, but they blurred and blended into each other, creating a web of confusion. I couldn’t rely on my sight alone anymore.
I countered, thrusting my estoc toward its chest, butMazekarwas ready. It deflected my strike with a swift, brutal motion, its claws clashing against my blade, sending a shockwave through my arm. The power behind its strike was immense—this was not a creature I could simply cut down with one clean blow.
[This one’s no joke,] Vitaliara murmured, a note of warning in her voice.
“I can tell,” I muttered, shifting my stance as I prepared for the next attack.
SWOOSH!
It came at me again, its claws tearing through the space between us. I dodged to the side, but just as I moved, an illusion of the monster appeared from the other direction, almost indistinguishable from the real one. For a split second, I hesitated—just enough forMazekarto close the gap.
Its claws raked across my side, the venom sizzling as it met my mana barrier. Pain flared, but I didn’t let it slow me down. I spun, using the momentum to strike back, my estoc glowing with the power of starlight. The blade sliced through the air, aiming forMazekar’sexposed flank, but once again, it anticipated the move.
CLANG!
Our weapons clashed again, and I was forced to step back, breathing hard as the illusions danced around me, their movements mirroring Mazekar’s real form so perfectly that every strike, every dodge, felt like I was fighting multiple enemies at once.
My senses were failing me. The air was thick with deception, the mana distorting reality itself. Each step I took, each swing of my estoc, was met with uncertainty.
SWOOSH! SLASH!
I dodged, but not fast enough. Mazekar’s claws raked across my arm, slicing through the fabric and grazing my skin.
“Hisss….”
A sharp pain flared, and I could feel the venom sizzling as it met my mana barrier, slowly eroding it. I bit back the pain, pushing forward with a retaliatory strike, but the beast was already gone, slipping back into the web of illusions.
“Damn it!” I muttered under my breath, frustration rising as I struggled to discern the real Mazekar among the countless false forms. My sight, my hearing—none of it was enough.
They were failing me.
‘No, calm down. What are you doing?’
In the novel, this fight would not progress like this as the male lead of the magic tower would use annihilation magic to blast this whole place open.
But I can not do something like that.
For now.
Which is why I need to think of something different.
CLANG!
Our blades clashed once again, the force of Mazekar’s strike sending a shockwave through my arm, rattling my bones. I stumbled back, my breathing heavy, sweat dripping down my forehead. The illusions tightened around me, making it impossible to see, to predict. Every time I thought I had the real one, it vanished, replaced by a phantom.
The beast was playing with me, using the dungeon’s magic to its full advantage.
And in the chaos, I was taking hit after hit. Another slash across my leg. A near-miss to my chest. The venom was slowly weakening my barrier, the pain starting to accumulate.
I had to think.
I couldn’t rely on my senses anymore—not my sight, not my hearing, not even my mana perception. All of it was being deceived by the dungeon, twisted and corrupted. But there was something else—something deeper, something I had learned over countless battles.
The answer was laid right before my eyes.
Instinct.
That was the answer.