Chapter 138: The Moving Cliff

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s not waste time.” He raised both hands; another magic circle ignited, a crackling orb of pale blue light with angular runes etched sharply upon it, pulsing like tiny lightning veins.

The circle contracted violently. A lance of lightning erupted forward with a deafening bang that split the air in blinding flash. It tore through the frontmost monster; electrical surges raced through its mineral veins until they glowed white-hot before it detonated from within, shards of superheated stone blasting outward like shrapnel.

Sage exhaled sharply. The monsters did not retreat; they accelerated, and so did he.

Fire roared; wind screamed; lightning cracked. He advanced through the first floor like someone forcing their way through a collapsing mine, each spell tearing openings through converging masses of stone while every movement was calculated and measured; his mind already cataloging responses.

They guarded choke points and emerged near portal thresholds while pressing inward from all sides, they were not random placements but strategic ones. The next floors followed relentlessly in succession.

Stone valleys gave way to fractured plateaus and cavernous hollows supported by natural pillars before narrowing into corridors carved through living rock.

Each floor reshaped this same theme into new variations; with each descent the monsters thickened and hardened, growing more aggressive.

Spawn-Class packs surged in waves, their movements becoming increasingly synchronized and their responses quicker. By the fifth floor, Guard-Class entities began to emerge, towering constructs of layered stone and embedded crystal.

These behemoths were slower but incredibly resilient, their dense bodies withstanding Falling Flame without immediate destruction.

Sage adapted. He amplified his fire with wind, harnessing Gale currents to compress and accelerate flames into focused infernos.

Lightning became a precision tool rather than a primary weapon; he waited for moments when crystalline joints were exposed or mana nodes pulsed near the surface before striking with lethal accuracy.

By the tenth floor, panic had subsided.

By the twelfth floor, hesitation was gone.

By the fifteenth floor, he only killed when absolutely necessary.

The dungeon transformed. The terrain grew harsher, ravines deepened and stone formations jutted at unnatural angles.

Elite-Class monsters appeared, massive figures clad in layered armor plating with internal mana flows so potent that Sage could sense them before they came into view. He chose not to fight them.

Instead, he observed their patrol routes, waiting for shifts in attention before slipping past them like a shadow cloaked in dust.

Minor wind currents muffled his movements while bursts of flame collapsed distant stones to redirect pursuit, a deadly game of hide-and-seek.

When he finally reached the portal to the twentieth floor, his breath was ragged, his clothes further torn, arms streaked with dried blood that wasn’t all his own. His mana pool was dwindling again; thoughts felt sluggish.

Stepping through, he found himself in an expanse unlike any other, a vast stone basin opened before him, its walls rising higher than on previous floors and curving inward like a colossal amphitheater.

The ground varied: smooth patches interspersed with jagged areas cracked by glowing fault lines pulsating like veins beneath skin.

At the center stood a colossal formation of fused rock spiraling upward into a jagged spire; embedded within its base, partially exposed and glowing ominously, was the Dungeon Core.

Sage recognized it immediately. But alongside that realization came an overwhelming sense of oppression, a heavy presence that set off every alarm bell within him.

Instinct took over; without thinking, he rolled away just as the ground where he had stood erupted violently in a thunderous boom as a massive stone spike shot up from below like a spear thrust by some buried giant.

Shattered rock rained down around him as dust billowed up. Sage skidded across the stone surface, heart racing violently in his chest while ears rang from the explosion.

Red flooded his vision.

[Alert.]

[Alert.]

[High Danger Energy Signature Detected.]

[Threat Level: Critical.]

[Immediate Evasion Recommended.]

He barely registered the sound. A cold wave of sweat burst from his skin as he scrambled upright, the delayed realization crashing over him like a tidal wave, he had come alarmingly close to death.

Just a few centimeters more or a fraction of a second slower, and his torso would have been impaled.

Looking up, he finally saw it: the dungeon boss. It didn’t rise dramatically or roar; it was simply there.

A massive entity of stone and crystal loomed before him, partially fused with the basin wall. Its body blended so seamlessly into the environment that Sage’s eyes had initially mistaken it for mere terrain.

The form was vaguely humanoid, two enormous limbs anchored into the ground, a thick torso layered with shifting plates, an upper structure suggestingshoulders and a head, but it was not alive.

It resembled a moving cliff. Crystalline veins glowed faintly beneath overlapping stone armor. Sections of its body slid and rotated with grinding precision, plates rearranging themselves with each subtle movement.

Its “face” was an asymmetrical mass of angular protrusions and luminous fissures, from which two deep, glowing cavities regarded him with cold focus. An oppressive aura poured from it.

Sage’s knees weakened involuntarily; his body reacted before pride could intervene. He had felt danger before, but this was different. This wasn’t just danger, it was inevitability.

He swallowed hard. “How am I supposed to defeat this abomination?” he muttered under his breath, his voice thin.

The boss moved. The ground around Sage shuddered as stone erupted again; spikes tore upward in brutal precision, forcing him to leap, twist, and roll as his heart thundered in his chest while massive formations burst where he had stood only moments before.

He dashed sideways, then forward, then back, his movements frantic and reactive as he fought to stay alive.

Then he spotted it: the core glowed steadily at the base of the central spire, and he ran for it.

Just then, cold sweat flooded down his spine as he twisted to the side. Another spike roared past him, smashing into the far wall with such force that shockwaves rippled through the entire floor; chunksof rock rained down like shrapnel.

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