A wave of absolute depletion slammed into Tony the moment the adrenaline of the fight faded. It was not mere fatigue; it was a systemic shutdown. Every muscle fiber screamed in protest, his mind felt like a frayed cable, sparking and dimming. A profound, soul-deep weariness threatened to drag him into unconsciousness right there on the dungeon floor.
System Warning: Player Stamina, Constitution, and Conscious attribute have been consumed critically.
System Warning: Due to extreme physical and mental exhaustion, you have entered a [Crippled] state for 30 minutes. All attributes reduced by 80%. Movement and action speed severely impaired.
A bitter taste filled Tony's mouth. Pushing his mind to simultaneously execute the nascent [Sword Barrier] and the supremely demanding [Mirage Step] had been like trying to solve two complex equations while sprinting a marathon. He wondered, for a fleeting second, if the reward was worth teetering on the edge of total collapse.
What he didn't realize was that without the prior purification of the Soul Orb, his mind would have shattered long before he ever reached the Wolf King. The fact that he had not only used both techniques but fused them flawlessly was a testament to his newly refined spirit.
Just as despair began to creep in, a familiar warmth bloomed in his core. It was the same sensation he had felt after opening the Box of Heaven and Earth—a pure, worldly energy that the system had noted was still being digested. This residual energy, triggered by his critically low state, now surged through his pathways. His starved cells devoured it, repairing damaged tissue and replenishing his scorched mental reserves.
The process took ten minutes. When it was over, Tony opened his eyes, and the world had shifted. The crippled state was gone. More than that, his perception felt sharper, the colors more vivid, the faint currents of air against his skin more distinct. He flexed his hands, feeling a new, solid strength in his limbs. His reactions felt crisper, his connection to his virtual body more absolute.
System Notification: Your body has fully digested a portion of the World Energy. Constitution and Stamina have been raised to the 'Basic Foundation' tier.
'Basic Foundation?' The term was new, but the implication was clear. His body's baseline had been permanently improved. He filed the information away for later analysis. Right now, he had gains to solidify.
For the next four hours, Tony sat in deep meditation. He was a freak of nature, as his rival Mark often grumbled, not just for his talent, but for his obsessive post-combat analysis. He reran the entire battle against the Blood Wolf King in his mind, frame by frame. He examined every parry, every shift of weight during the [Mirage Step], every instinct that had guided the [Sword Barrier]. He wasn't just remembering; he was engraving the lessons directly onto his muscle memory and subconscious, forging his foundation into something unshakable.
When he finally stood, he was not just restored. He was refined. A wild, eager aura emanated from him. "The next floor is going to give me even more excitement," he whispered, his blood heating with anticipation. He was hungry to test his newly solidified strength.
He stepped through the archway to the third floor without a second thought. The environment shifted from a bloody plain to a deceptively serene, mist-shrouded forest. The air was still and silent. Too silent.
It was then that Tony smacked his own forehead. "Fuck! I forgot to loot the monsters!"
In the aftermath of the miraculous sword strike and his subsequent collapse, he had completely neglected the spoils from the thirteen Special Elite Blood Wolves and the Lord-class King. A fortune in gold, materials, and potentially more rare items, left to vanish when the dungeon reset. A pang of genuine regret hit him. "Fortunately, I'm in here alone, or I'd be crying right now."
He shook his head, forcing his focus back to the present. His expression grew serious. This peaceful forest was setting off every alarm bell in his honed instincts. A deep, formless sense of crisis prickled at the back of his neck, yet his eyes and ears detected nothing. Then it clicked.
A monster that uses Stealth.
It was every solo player's worst nightmare. An enemy you couldn't see, hear, or smell until its blade was already at your throat.
Without a moment's delay, he activated [Reality Eye]. The world snapped into hyper-clarity, the silvery light in his vision peeling back layers of deception. And there they were. Five of them. Small, sleek wolves with fur the color of absolute shadow, moving with a predator's grace through the trees, their presence completely erased from the normal spectrum.
[Shadow Wolf] (Rare Special Elite)
Level: 7
HP: 6000/6000
The moment his skill landed on them, they knew. Their heads snapped towards him in unison. One vanished from his sight and reappeared an instant later, a silvery fang materializing just inches from his jugular.
The speed was breathtaking. Tony's body reacted on pure instinct, twisting aside so the fang merely grazed his gorget. Before he could counter, two more fluctuations in the air betrayed attacks from his flanks.
Peng! Peng!
His twin swords met two more materializing fangs in a shower of sparks. The difficulty of this floor became terrifyingly clear. The Shadow Wolves only manifested for the brief moment of their attack, leaving a window of maybe two seconds for a counterattack. The rest of the time, they were untouchable ghosts.
Tony became a maelstrom of defensive motion. The [Sword Barrier] was reborn, not as a new concept, but as a perfected art. The constant clang of metal on fang filled the silent forest as he repelled strike after strike from unseen foes. He was a fortress, and not a single scratch found its mark.
As minutes passed, he grew accustomed to their rhythm. He stopped merely blocking. He began to predict. As one wolf struck, his body was already sidestepping the point of impact, his right sword lashing out in a pre-emptive strike at the space where the wolf's body would have to be.
A streak of greenish-black blood stained the mossy ground.
-500!
It was a war of attrition and perception. In twenty minutes, through flawless defense and ruthless, timed counters, all five Shadow Wolves lay dead.
The silence that followed was heavier than before. Then, the air itself seemed to crackle.
From the deepest shadows, a figure emerged. No, it didn't emerge—it coalesced. Even with [Reality Eye], Tony could only see a blurred, flickering outline from thirty yards away. It was a bipedal horror, a black-furred Werewolf, standing on its hind legs. In each hand, it held a crimson dagger that seemed to weep blood-light.
[Shadow Werewolf] (Rare Lord)
Level: 7
HP: 20,000/20,000
Skills: Shadow Strike, Phantom Assassination, Backstab, Counter, Werewolf Rage
The moment Tony's eyes locked onto its blurred form, it moved. It didn't run; it teleported, covering twenty yards in the blink of an eye. It stood before him, and its daggers were already in motion, scissoring towards his neck in a silent, killing blow.
There was no time for anything else.
"[Absolute Defense]!"
The invulnerable dome from his Darkbright Armor flared to life. The twin crimson daggers slammed against the barrier, frozen mere inches from his flesh.
WTF!!!!! Tony screamed internally, his heart hammering.
The Werewolf, displaying unnerving adaptability, didn't pause. It spun, vanishing and reappearing behind him in the same motion. [Backstab]. The daggers struck the barrier again. Then again. And again. Six attacks landed on the dome in under a second, a blistering assault that would have shredded any tank. As the dome's duration expired, the Werewolf launched a perfectly executed flying kick at his abdomen.
"Which bastard programmed this stupid wolf? It knows karate!" Tony cursed aloud. This wasn't a monster; its movements were too refined, too intelligent, like a master player.
Just before the kick connected, the Werewolf's muzzle twisted into a human-like sneer. It reversed its grip on one dagger mid-air and thrust it in a vicious [Shadow Strike], aiming for Tony's heart, a feint within a feint.
But Tony was ready. His swords were already crossing over his chest.
SCREEEECH!
The dagger screeched against the Humming Blade, deflected at the last possible moment.
The Werewolf's sneer vanished, replaced by a grimace of fury. It landed and immediately blurred into a streak of black light.
"[Phantom Assassination]!"
It was the ultimate assassin's skill, a move designed to ignore defenses and deliver a near-fatal blow. But Tony was already gone. He used [Mirage Step], leaving a perfect afterimage for the black light to pierce harmlessly.
Aooo! The Rare Lord howled in frustration. It launched a relentless, teleporting assault. The forest became a dizzying tableau of flickering forms and bloody dagger arcs clashing against a whirlwind of twin swords. Sparks flew like furious fireflies.
But Tony was on the back foot. His HP began to plummet. A graze here, a shallow cut there—against 20,000 HP, even a perfect defense was a losing battle. Within twenty seconds, his health was a critical 300.
He disengaged for a split second, downing an [Advanced Health Potion]. The familiar surge of vitality returned. He had five of these left, and two regeneration potions. This was the arsenal that gave him the audacity to challenge Nightmare.
"Stupid puppy," Tony taunted, a sneer on his lips. "Let's start our second round."
The Shadow Werewolf stopped its assault. It didn't just growl in mindless rage. It tilted its head, its glowing eyes studying him, and let out a low, guttural sound that felt like a response. It understood the provocation.
Tony's blood ran cold, then hot with exhilaration. 'Don't tell me this fucker actually understood me.'
He settled into a new stance, every sense screaming. He was no longer fighting a monster. He was facing a true, intelligent, and deadly equal. The real fight had just begun.