“Left….”

Mark turned left calmly, a calm smile on his face as he moved forward whilst dragging something along. It was the unconscious body of the dumb assassin tied in the toughest restraints he could find from the surrounding flora of the area. As he dragged the body, Izyrx directed him on what path they should take, trying her best to ignore the enemy being dragged along.

"Stop here… The arena is that building standing amid those red plants. It is quite large and is in the best shape compared to the aged and nearly crumbling ruins we just passed." Izyrx had a worried gleam in her eyes as Mark sat her down on the plants before joining her. As soon as Mark sat down, she opened her mouth to continue, "The monster is down on the ground floor, good luck."

"Yeah, I guess. Hopefully, you will be okay outside, all alone and defenceless. I would be dragging this one in for unmentioned reasons." Mark signalled at the captured assassin, a frown forming on his face as he calmly opened his mouth to add, "You should explain the structure to me, I'll need everything you can give about the internals. Be brief with it though, I don't have enough time anymore."

“The building is massive. There is only a single floor despite the tall exterior, and this means the distance between the ground and floor is quite massive — this allowed the enemy to perform quick aerial manoeuvres which gave it an edge over everyone that joined the expedition.” She breathed in, seemingly prepared for a heavy speech, “There were ruins of the ancients scattered all over the area, but we were not importuned to read them. Multiple obstacles are scattered all over the ground,”

"The combination of the large space and obstacle-ridden floors is a major disadvantage for fighters like us, and we were all biting the dust in the shortest time imaginable. Half of the force was wiped in an instant due to the towering difference between us — although, it is worth noting that the absence of more floors provided the opportunity for an escape if an opportunity is provided.”

Mark frowned externally, but he sneered within himself. The conditions she mentioned were the core advantages any descendant searched for in battles against enemies, and Mark who was born to a family of descendants felt this would be an easy battle… but, not as easy as one would think it.

Noting the enemy was able to perform such manoeuvres whilst dealing such damage by utilising the advantages of the environment spelt great intelligence, and this meant the monster could be on the level of a human child or an aged adult! There would be a few problems battling an intelligent monster, but Mark believed he could handle it.

But, again…

The system believes that whatever is in that dungeon would be strong enough to kill him, and he felt a greater sense of vigilance remembering this. Underestimating the gravity of the situation would only mean sending himself to an early grave, and Mark did not feel ready for death just yet.

"How smart do you think the monster is?"

Hearing the words, Izyrx froze for a second, narrowing her eyes in strong consideration of ssomething before opening her mouth to speak, "It was very smart. It was not a mindless beast. Also, It did not blindly chase targets, knowing to evade calling our bluffs.”

Mark listened calmly, feeling the frown on his face grow as Izyrx continued.

“Using it as bait would not work as we tried that, and it failed terribly. It understandsf faking and sneaking since it once sneaked up on us, but we only established the former after noticing how it managed to detect and adeptly counter our false attacks…”

It was just as he thought; the enemy he was going to face was an intellect with a lot of skill, unlike the barbarians he faced earlier. Fighting something like this was not something Mark could play with, and he decided he had to give it effort. Failing the test was not an option, and dying in this strange place was out of the question.

Standing to his feet, a serious gleam shone in Mark's eyes. The massive canon-like machine gun appeared in his hands, and then a fierce aura exploded from within him, and a blood-red halo circled him. He picked up the assassin by the leg, and then he began to march forward, dragging the two weights as if they were nothing, the frown on his face deepening.

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"What… is this?" Izyrx stared upon the halo that had appeared around Mark, and she felt strange shivers run down her spine. The halo looked grand and beautiful, but it gave off a vibe so vile that it would buckle the knees of anyone who stared upon it. It was a fear — a primal feeling she couldn’t comprehend, and as she sat in the presence of such pure energy, there was oppression.

——

The desire for blood: a lust developed through years of trained slaughter. A driving force for the mindless massacre of civilisations, a trait that backbones the collapsing structure of numerous falling worlds. It was one of the first passive traits the parents could “enhance” their child with: right from the womb, and it had birthed the craziest monstrosities of every human force.

Mark reached the doors to the arena, and they creaked open automatically. He kept his grasp on both bodies tight, the cold gleam in his eyes growing as he stepped into the new area. As soon as he stepped into the arena, the door slammed shut behind him, and the darkness of the interior was lit by a multitude of candles. The source of the flame is unknown.

Driven by this lust, members of frontier foot soldiers like the descender killed indiscriminately, not feeling the need to question the moralities behind their actions. All that mattered was the order to move forward until the enemy was eliminated, and the blood lust was completely satiated. It was a great madness, but it continues to this day and will till the indefinite future.

Staring around the area, He understood all that Izyrx described. The obstacles she had spoken about were the numerous ruins of forgotten ancient technology scattered around the ground, and the ceiling was high up. The area was quite massive, and he felt like a drop in the ocean as he stood amid all the technological rubble.

The smell of blood was the thickest here. He could see the bodies of those who did not manage the crawl out to the flora clawing at the hexagonal tiles of the arena. Their twisted expressions were the sole testament to all the misery they must have endured before death, and Mark found it quite amusing. Their struggles and pain, all so they could make one mistake and end up here… lifeless.

He was not going to be any different. Although, in his case, losing his life would be the least of his problems. It would be more of a release compared to the horrors the monsters of his world had in store for fools like him. In comparison, getting killed in such a beautiful and clean manner would be considered quite grand.

[Technology evolved at a rapid pace, and spatial breakthroughs rippled throughout the world as the inhabitants prepared for a new age: a dawn of galactic colonisation. Against the idea of utilising power to bully neighbouring life, he that forged the swords fought to keep the peace that humanity had long gotten accustomed to… But even after offering everything…]

Mark turned to the blinking white screen, reading with a lifted brow as he wondered what it was supposed to mean. He had not expected the system to give information on things like this in a dungeon like this, and the fact it only appeared after he entered the arena was even more strange…

[His dreams and aspirations, were trashed as humanity continued with their goal — bringing their neighbours under their flag through war. Development was terrifying, and weapons of mass destruction were shuttered across the galaxy, acting at the forefront of human conquest. Soon, half of the universe was exploited, and the number of destroyed planets began to grow…]

"Wait…" Mark frowned, and then he felt all the hairs on his body stand on ends. He had heard this story somewhere before and believed it was somehow related to the ancients and what caused their fall. The fact that the system was showing him this meant that something out of place would reveal itself… was it some sort of secret library? Hidden ancient technology?

I will deal with it when I am done with the boss of this dungeon.

[He carried the pain and misery of billions who died to human greed, enhancing himself with as much technology as he could, delving into a state of madness. He killed those whom he considered a threat to the well-being of the universe, and their weapons he claimed for himself, growing stronger.]

A cold light flashed, and Mark staggered back in shock. An unknown blade sliced a chunk off his shoulder, and before he could even blink, his left arm was chopped up into a dozen pieces that fell to the ground. Mark quickly utilised his strength, holding his gun with one hand as he retreated.

[Fatal Damage Inflicted!]

[Health -5%]

[Negated Healing Reduction Debuff]

[Negated Shock Debuff]

[Negated Immobilisation Debuff]

Where had the attack come from? I can’t see anything but ruins.

[Now, he was nothing but a mindless desire to possess a thousand swords. The pain he carried with him to his last second of sanity developed a rippling chasm around him, a vile aura that ripped apart anything that came in contact with it as he stood against the world as it had stood against him.]

Staring down at the pieces of his arm on the ground, Mark felt shivers run down his spine, and he looked up to see a humanoid figure staring back at him with its glowing eyes. It was formless, a spinning vortex of swords danced around it as the monster stood still, calmly watching Mark who stared back with a strange gleam in his eyes as he stared at the blinking red screen before him,

[Pained Demon Of A Thousand Swords]

[Threat Level: Collapsed Forsaken]