A New Milestone

Somewhere below the fortieth level of the dungeon Oxius and his remaining team navigated the dungeon's depths with an unsettling ease, a sinister procession marked by the summoning of demons that cleared their path of any obstructions. The dark corridors and eerie silence of the dungeon did little to hinder their progress, for with the release of Leviathan through the power of the artifact, they wielded a force brutal and unforgiving.

As they approached one of the crossings, a place where the light seemed to recoil and shadows danced with a life of their own, a massive dark form materialized before them. It was Leviathan, his presence a chilling embodiment of chaos and destruction. Oxius, upon seeing the formidable creature, couldn't suppress a twisted smile of dark anticipation.

"Did you kill Amukelo?" Oxius inquired, his voice laced with a venomous hope.

Leviathan responded with a snarl, his tone dripping with irritation and anger. "You mean that brat? They managed to escape. They used some weird bomb that destroyed the entire dungeon level. I will need that," he growled, eyeing the artifact in Oxius's hand with a malevolent greed.

Without waiting for permission, Leviathan snatched the artifact from Oxius's grasp. Oxius, visibly unsatisfied and thrown off balance by Leviathan's audacity, dared not oppose the monstrous being. His survival hinged on a delicate balance of power, one he was not currently in favor of tipping.

Leviathan then swallowed the whole artifact. Oxius, shocked and bewildered, could only muster a feeble protest. "What did you do? How will we get to the next artifact?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and desperation.

Leviathan's response was a burp, grotesque and echoing through the cavernous space. His body then underwent a bizarre transformation: his torso expanded grotesquely as if the artifact was catalyzing some unfathomable physiological change. His limbs followed, swelling to monstrous proportions before gradually receding, the grotesque inflation giving way to a chilling normalization of his form. The limbs he had lost were now regenerated, a horrifying display of his renewed strength.

With a dismissive gesture, Leviathan regurgitated the artifact, now covered in a sinister patina of his inner darkness and threw it back to Oxius. "Tsh, you bunch of weaklings. These monsters are nothing," he scoffed, his voice thick with contempt.

Oxius, recovering the artifact with a trembling hand, tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation. "We don't have enough manpower," he argued weakly, an attempt to rationalize their precarious situation.

"There are only two of them. Wounded, and they manage to move through this dungeon and you can't?" Leviathan retorted dismissively. "You might meet them on your path. It will be better if you lure them to open space, and I will ambush them. Then you will go for the next artifact. I won't let them escape anymore. This will be the last time this brat plays on my nerves."

The exchange laid bare the volatile and uneasy alliance between Oxius and Leviathan. Oxius's reliance on Leviathan's power was a dangerous gamble, one that gave the creature free rein to pursue his own vengeful agenda. As they continued their journey through the dungeon, the air thick with the stench of impending doom, Leviathan's anger simmered—a malevolent force unleashed, promising destruction not just to Amukelo and Eliss, but to anyone who dared stand in his path.

. . .

Back to them. After days of continuous movement through the oppressive environment of level forty-seven, Amukelo and Eliss began to feel the weight of their relentless journey. The absence of severe injuries did little to mitigate the fatigue that clung to their bones, a deep-seated exhaustion that sleep could easily remedy, yet such rest was a luxury that eluded them. Each step was measured, each breath drawn with a weariness that shadowed their progress. The luxury of rest was not theirs to claim, and yet, they were sustained by sufficient food and the resilience of their healed bodies, pushing forward with a determination that was as much about survival as it was about defiance against the dungeon that sought to crush their spirits.

A few days later upon reaching the second crossing—the very place where Leviathan had once ambushed them—their initial surprise was palpable. The main route, previously devastated by an explosive confrontation that had reshaped the very architecture of the dungeon, now showed no signs of such catastrophic damage. It was as if the dungeon itself had conspired to erase all evidence of their past struggles, presenting a facade of undisturbed normalcy that was as unsettling as it was impeccable.

With every sense heightened, Amukelo and Eliss moved with a stealth that was born of necessity. Their steps were cautious, their movements calculated to maintain as low a profile as possible. The area was eerily quiet, the usual ominous ambiance of the dungeon seemingly on pause, as if holding its breath along with them.

Despite the apparent tranquility, they knew better than to let down their guard. Their eyes scanned every shadow, every corner, every potential hiding spot where danger might lurk. The memory of Leviathan's formidable presence haunted their every move, a silent specter that spurred their careful inspection of the surroundings.

Seeing no immediate signs of Leviathan or other formidable threats, they nonetheless decided against risking a prolonged exposure. Instead, they chose to run, a full-tilt sprint that combined urgency with the lethal efficiency of seasoned dungeon navigators. Monsters that crossed their path were dispatched with swift, decisive blows—no creature, absent the dreaded Shadowmourn Coven, could detain them for more than a few heartbeats.

Their passage through the crossing was a blur of motion, a sprint fueled by adrenaline and the sharp, ever-present need to escape a potential ambush. The environment whirred past them, a mosaic of dungeon flora and stonework that became a backdrop to their desperate flight.

Finally, they breached the threshold of level forty-seven and stepped into level forty-six. Relief washed over them, tempered with the exhilaration of having reached a stage of the dungeon that neither had seen together. It was a new terrain, a fresh challenge, but also a significant milestone that marked their progress and their relentless pursuit towards escape.

This moment at the boundary between levels was a stark reminder of how far they had come and how much they had endured. The quiet that enveloped them as they paused to catch their breath was filled with more than just physical exhaustion; it was laden with the emotional and mental fatigue of a journey that tested every fiber of their being. Yet, here they stood, on level forty-six, a testament to their resilience and unyielding spirit.