The corridor narrowed behind me as I followed the Shadeborn entrance scouts out of the forge chamber. Their pale-blue light faded with distance, leaving only the dull sheen of molten veins threading through the walls. The passage dipped slightly, each step swallowing more heat and replacing it with a strange coolness that seeped into my new skin.
Pulse Sense flicked outward—soft vibrations, nothing sharp yet.
But then… a weight.
Not stepping. Not moving. Just existing.
The Hunter Captain waited ahead.
The scouts peeled away soundlessly, forming a wide half-circle as they retreated into alcoves carved inside the stone. Their masks stared down through narrow slits, unreadable, all observing the same point in the center of the chamber.
A circular arena.
Flat stone.
Carved runes spiraling inward.
No forge-fire here—just cold light dripping from crystalline veins overhead.
And in the middle stood the Captain.
Taller than the Hunters I fought earlier, armor thicker, sigils carved deeper into its mask—three downward cuts, sharp as claw marks frozen into metal.
Its spear was planted lightly on the ground, tip barely touching but balanced, poised. The entire stance was still, spine straight, head slightly lowered like a warrior waiting for an equal.
Pulse Sense brushed across it.
Density high.
Posture precise.
Breathing steady.
Everything about it was control.
I stepped onto the arena stone.
The Captain lifted its head a fraction. Not enough to be welcoming. Not enough to be rejecting. A neutral gesture that meant only one thing:
You entered. You accept.
Fine.
The Captain shifted its spear into both hands.
I lowered my stance automatically.
Claws out.
Legs bent.
Tail arched.
Blades along my back lifted slightly, catching tension before I even felt it.
A moment of absolute stillness.
Then the Captain moved.
Not fast—correct.
The movement had intention. No stray momentum.
The spear swept in a shallow arc toward my right side.
I stepped aside, claws cutting downward.
The spear met my claws at perfect angle, glancing them aside without a spark. The Captain stepped into the deflection, twisting its torso—fluid, controlled—and jabbed the butt of the spear toward my ribs.
I blocked with a forearm.
Metal cracked against shadow-armor and slid off.
I countered instantly—tail slicing upward.
The Captain bent backward unnaturally low, tail creating only a shallow breeze above its helm. It flipped backward, landing lightly on its feet, never losing grip on the spear.
Pulse Sense caught the slightest shift in its posture:
Testing complete.
The real fight beginning.
It lunged.
This time faster.
The spear carved a vertical cut through the air toward my head. I ducked under it and shot forward with Reaver Step—Blink snapping me behind it before its strike even finished.
Claws slashed—
The Captain's spear spun behind its back, blocking my attack without looking.
Then it kicked.
A brutal heel strike to my chest.
The impact blasted me backward across the stone, claws scraping shallow trenches as I caught myself.
Good.
I pushed off the ground and charged again.
The Captain met me mid-stride, spear rotating around its arm in a fluid spiral. Every motion of its body matched the spear's path, as if the weapon danced around it rather than the other way around.
We collided.
Claw on metal.
Tail on shaft.
Blade-spine against armor.
The sounds were sharp and violent, each clash sending thin chips off the arena floor.
The Captain twisted its wrists—
Spear whipped sideways—
I ducked and rolled, claws stabbing into stone to spin my body and lash upward.
The Captain vaulted over me entirely.
I jumped after it, Blink snapping me above its arc—claws descending—
It stabbed upward without looking.
The spear's tip grazed the edge of my jaw, slicing a thin line of shadow-flesh.
Pain crackled.
Instinct flared.
I grabbed the spear shaft mid-air and wrenched it.
The Captain dropped with it, turning the loss of balance into a sweeping kick.
Its foot hit my knee joint.
My leg buckled.
I fell forward—
Caught myself—
Slashed at its torso.
A shallow dent formed on its armor. Not deep, but visible.
The Captain paused.
Not shocked.
Not offended.
More like acknowledging:
You finally landed one.
Then it stepped back.
Only one step.
But something in the air shifted.
Sigils on its mask brightened faintly.
The spear lowered into a ready stance far sharper than before.
Pulse Sense pulsed back at me—
The Captain's rhythm changed.
Calmer.
Sharper.
Deadlier.
This was the real test.
The Captain attacked again, but now its movements weren't readable. They weren't flowing like before—they were stuttering intentionally, breaking patterns, shifting angles mid-motion, striking from unexpected arcs.
A feint became a sweep.
A sweep became a thrust.
A thrust twisted into a rising cut.
I dodged twice.
Blocked once.
Got clipped more than I liked.
My tail parried a blow, metal ringing as the spear bounced off.
Claws collided with the shaft again, this time denting it slightly.
The Captain's head snapped toward the dent.
Acknowledgment.
Second one.
I Blinked behind it—
The Captain Blinked too.
Not actual Blink. Something else.
A sharp essence displacement, shorter but instantaneous.
We reappeared facing each other mid-air.
Claws and spear collided.
The impact cracked the stone under us, a spider-web spread racing outward.
We both landed, sliding backward across the arena.
The Captain rolled its shoulder once—adjusting, resetting.
I flexed my claws—ready again.
But the Captain didn't attack.
It lifted its spear.
Tapped the butt against the ground twice.
A signal.
Then it tapped once more.
A different signal.
Pulse Sense caught faint responses in the walls. Hidden alcoves vibrated. Shadeborn Scouts repositioned. A dozen faint signatures arranged themselves above the arena—watching.
This wasn't a duel.
It was a rite.
The Captain rotated its spear horizontally and stabbed the ground beside itself.
Not surrender.
Permission.
Strike me.
Show me your form.
Your true one.
I felt something tighten under my ribs.
Old instincts.
New instincts.
Wanting to merge.
Fine.
Pulse Sense sharpened.
Claws extended fully.
Tail split wider.
Back-blades angled forward.
I stepped forward slowly.
The Captain didn't flinch.
Another step.
It adjusted its stance slightly—accepting the blow, but ready to measure its force.
One more.
Then I moved.
Reaver Step snapped me forward with a burst of displacement that even I barely controlled. My claws came down in a brutal cross-slash—
The Captain raised its spear to block—
But Shadow Cleave cut through the shaft as if it were fragile bone.
The spear snapped in half.
A full half-second of stillness.
Then my claws crashed into the Captain's torso, sending it flying into the arena wall with a sharp impact that shook dust loose from the ceiling.
The Captain landed on one knee.
Its spear lay broken.
Claw marks carved deep across its armor, deeper than anything I expected.
Pulse Sense rippled.
The Shadeborn watching shifted position.
The Captain placed its palm over the wounds on its chest.
Fingers traced the cuts.
Mask lifted slightly, acknowledging the hit.
Then it tapped the ground once.
Slow.
Solid.
Approval.
It rose again, broken spear still gripped in its hand.
But rather than continue the fight, it inserted the broken spear into a carved slot in the arena floor.
The runes around us brightened instantly.
A circular doorway at the far end of the hall slid open, revealing a descending passage glowing with blue-white lines that ran like rivers under the stone.
The Captain stepped aside.
Gesturing.
Proceed.
Not as prey.
Not as threat.
Not as enemy.
As something recognized.
Something earned.
I stepped past the Captain.
Its head dipped once.
Barely a nod.
Barely anything.
But enough.
The scouts above shifted again, forming patterns resembling arcs and angled symbols. Not random—ritual. Something recorded. Something they would report.
As I entered the passage, Pulse Sense brushed something carved into the walls deeper ahead:
Curved lines.
Circles.
Humanoid forms.
Shadow forms kneeling.
Winged shapes descending.
The same style as the forge murals.
More divine interference.
More forbidden evolution.
Floor 3 wasn't finished with me yet.