The corridor beyond the fallen monster narrowed sharply, forcing Ren and Taro to walk in single file. The faint pulse of magical energy grew stronger with each step, resonating against Ren's very bones. He could feel the dungeon's heartbeat now — steady, deliberate, as if it were aware of their presence.
Taro whispered, his voice trembling despite his bravado, "Why does it feel like the walls are… watching us?"
Ren's eyes scanned every detail. Even without Heavenless Sight, he could sense the flow of mana threading through the dungeon stones. Watching, yes, but not hostile… yet. The dungeon is testing us.
At the end of the corridor, a massive chamber opened up, its ceiling disappearing into shadow. At its center floated a series of rotating magical glyphs, suspended in midair, pulsing with a soft blue glow. Faint chains of energy linked each glyph to the walls, floor, and ceiling, forming an intricate web of power.
"This… doesn't look like a monster," Taro muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ren stepped forward, blade in hand. "It's a puzzle," he said calmly. "The dungeon tests more than strength. It tests perception, patience, and understanding. Watch carefully."
He activated Heavenless Sight. The room shifted, and the glowing glyphs revealed their hidden truth. Each one emitted a unique magical frequency, intertwining in a complex rhythm. Some threads were strong, some weak, and some led to traps designed to kill anyone who miscalculated.
"Okay," Ren murmured, voice quiet but firm, "we need to disrupt the pattern without triggering the traps. Follow my lead."
Taro's eyes widened. "Follow your lead? You mean you'll do it all and I watch?"
Ren didn't answer. He moved like a shadow, every step precise. His katana traced the air, severing faint strands of energy connecting unstable glyphs. Sparks flared where misaligned threads were cut, but he anticipated each one, avoiding triggering the traps.
Taro blinked, trying to keep up, but stumbled when he triggered a minor shock trap. A small jolt surged through his body, throwing him off balance.
Ren's hand shot out, grabbing Taro's arm and yanking him back. "Focus on observing, not just moving. Every pulse has a rhythm. Feel it, don't just see it."
Taro groaned. "I think I just got smarter by touching your brain, Ghostface."
Ignoring him, Ren continued, slicing through the magical threads. Slowly, the glyphs began to align, their rotation synchronizing with the rhythm of the dungeon. Sparks of light danced across the room, illuminating a faint, intricate pattern on the floor — the final key to the puzzle.
Ren knelt and studied the pattern. "It's a map of the dungeon core. The energy flows through it, but there's an anomaly at the center. That's the true focus. If we destabilize it incorrectly, the dungeon will collapse on itself."
Taro swallowed hard. "I didn't sign up for dungeon demolition class!"
Ren's lips curved into a faint smile. "It's not demolition. It's understanding. Watch closely."
He closed his eyes again, Heavenless Sight fully active. The room shifted. He could see the invisible currents, the weak points in the glyphs, the hidden channels connecting the dungeon's energy to the central anomaly. It was like reading the threads of reality itself — the puzzle wasn't just magical; it was alive.
Moving with fluid precision, Ren cut through the most unstable threads first, letting the dungeon's energy settle naturally. One by one, the glyphs synchronized, humming in harmony. Sparks flared but died out harmlessly.
Finally, he reached the central anomaly: a floating orb of condensed mana, swirling violently. It pulsed like a heartbeat, each throb echoing through the chamber. Ren's heart mirrored it, steady and calm, as he placed the tip of his katana against the orb.
Energy surged into him, flowing along the blade, into his arms, chest, and mind. Visions flashed before his eyes: ancient wars, fallen adventurers, trapped souls. The dungeon wasn't just a test — it was a living archive of every being who had entered before.
Ren blinked, shaking his head to clear the visions. Focus.
With deliberate motion, he sliced through the orb, dispersing the energy carefully into the room. The chamber trembled, but the pulse steadied instead of erupting violently. The glyphs shone brightly, a signal of completion.
Taro exhaled sharply. "You… did it. You didn't blow up the place. I think… I think I love you, Ghostface."
Ren ignored him, eyes already scanning the walls. Something remained — a faint residual pulse he hadn't accounted for. A trace… of something older.
Before he could investigate, a whisper filled the chamber, echoing in his mind rather than through the air.
"You sense it. You feel the threads. You understand more than you should."
Ren froze. The whisper was neither malevolent nor friendly — it carried authority, age, and power beyond comprehension.
He shook his head. "I… heard it too," Taro whispered, fear and awe mingling in his voice.
Ren focused, tracing the faint energy signature. It wasn't a trap, not exactly. It was… aware. Alive. And it was watching him.
Interesting.
The residual pulse led him to a small, hidden alcove, almost invisible unless one looked carefully. Inside was a stone tablet, etched with intricate symbols, faintly glowing. Ren approached, feeling the flow of energy from it, sensing its depth and age.
He ran a finger over the carvings. Instantly, fragments of memory and sensation filled his mind — flashes of fallen adventurers, failed experiments, and, faintly, the presence of a god.
Taro backed away, eyes wide. "Ghostface… that's… you shouldn't touch that thing."
Ren's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "I have to know."
He concentrated, activating Heavenless Sight again. The tablet's magic unraveled before his mind, revealing layers of energy, history, and knowledge. It wasn't destructive — it was a library of experiences, each pulse a whisper of someone who had been here before.
As he absorbed the energy, a subtle change occurred. His senses sharpened. His perception expanded. He could see faint traces of energy in the walls, the floor, even in the air. He realized the dungeon wasn't just a test; it was a teacher.
Taro whispered, awe-struck, "Ghostface… you're… different."
Ren nodded slowly, though his expression remained calm. "Different… or awake. The difference is subtle, but it will matter."
The chamber hummed around them, and for a moment, Ren felt the faintest touch of cold satisfaction — the first flicker of ruthlessness buried within him. He hadn't hurt anyone unnecessarily, but he had mastered what most would fail. The thought carried a weight, and for the first time, he understood that power wasn't just about survival — it was about control.
The dungeon door at the far end opened automatically, revealing sunlight streaming faintly from above. Ren stepped forward, feeling Taro's hesitant presence behind him.
"This is only the beginning," Ren muttered. The residual pulse from the tablet lingered in his mind, whispering secrets he couldn't fully grasp yet. "And soon… the world will see what we can do."
Taro glanced at him nervously. "Uh… you do sound a little scary right now."
Ren's purple eyes met his friend's, calm but unreadable. "Good. Let them fear what they do not understand."
As they exited the dungeon, Ren's thoughts were already moving ahead. The puzzle, the monsters, the hidden energy — it was all a fragment of something much larger. Somewhere in the world, threads of divine magic waited, and one day he would grasp them all.
For now, he would train, he would grow, and he would survive. But deep down, a new edge had formed in his soul — a quiet, cold determination that would one day make him feared by gods and men alike.
The first trial was over. The real journey had just begun.