The Drakon narrowed its eyes and followed him, recognizing his new speed as the greatest threat to its dominance. Jonathan sped underneath a stomp and raced up the monster’s leg, managing to avoid the majority of the heat through his sheer speed and dexterity. Moving that fast whipped the air up around him, extinguishing the heat. It was the only reason that he wasn’t using Void Slipstream. Then he frowned, remembering that a complete absence of air would be far better for removing heat. He sighed at his own stupidity, and used the skill.

The air molecules around him vanished, and suddenly he was insulated in something akin to the cold of space. The heat faded away into obscurity, and he grinned. By the time he had reached the Drakon’s head, it had taken off once more, trying to dislodge him. However, he was more than dextrous enough to stay on.

Jonathan hammered his fists down in a single motion, cracking the scales that were already weakened and shattered by Edgar’s earlier attack. He put his all into the strike, and then began to barrage the monster with his attacks. The heat of the monster’s flesh was unavoidable at this point, and burns began to spread across his body. However, he was no stranger to pain at this point, and it was worth the damage he was dealing. Eventually, he sent a rocket of Void energy into the wound, boiling the monster’s brains. With a shuddering groan, it fell from the sky, dead. It was only then that Jonathan realized how much damage he had taken. His entire body was covered in severe burns, and his armor glowed a cherry red color. Tanking hits from a monster at the peak of his Tier was no small task.

Jonathan almost collapsed as the pain fully hit him, undiminished from adrenaline. However, he kept it together for long enough to feel a tide of essence enter him. It was enough to grant him two entire levels, seeing as he was already near the first one. He was nearing the final threshold of Wisdom, and one more level would allow him to cross it. Then he would likely gain some sort of bonus to his fighting capabilities for the feat.

Jonathan rode the corpse down as it fell out of the sky, stepping off as it crashed into the ground. A shockwave blasted dirt and rubble into the air as the monster landed. Jonathan landed by it, wincing as his burns rubbed against his armor.

Edgar was waiting for him, sitting on a large rock. He seemed mostly unharmed, but his burns were still healing. He had far less regenerative power than Jonathan, meaning that it took a lot longer to heal. The man perked up as Jonathan landed, and before he could say anything, the world warped around them.

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The two men were deposited within a white room, about a hundred feet in diameter. A man stood in the center of the room, clearly someone of import. It was just a hologram, so there was no aura pressure to tell his strength by, but Jonathan could sense that he was someone powerful. He was ten feet tall, and his skin was a deep red color. Two magnificent horns rose out of his forehead, two feet in length. His body was covered in corded muscle, and his eyes were like chips of ice. As they watched him, he spoke.

“You have passed the first of many tests within my pet realm. There are many more to come. I am Angranor, Lord of the Hells, and you exist solely at my pleasure.” The voice had a pre-recorded air to it, but it was still chilling, both in its calmness and its strength.

“Why are we here?” Jonathan asked.

“You have cleared this dungeon, proving your mettle. If you are here, that means that I choose you to upend the structure of the Hells. My circle lords are growing complacent, lazy even. They need someone to inspire them.” The projection ignored Jonathan’s words, not showing any indication that it had heard them. “Be warned, this is by no means a promise that you will ever escape the Hells. You only have this opportunity because of me. If you overstep your bounds and attempt to fight me, assuming you even survive past the first circle, I will torture your soul for all eternity.”

The voice stayed the same, but a slight undercurrent of malice ran through it at the end, so little that Jonathan might have imagined it. Angranor was extremely talented at regulating his body, so much so that he did not make a single unnecessary movement. Such were the abilities of a Tier 100. To be honest, it was quite uncanny.

“Now, such an impressive feat deserves an equal reward. You may have your pick of the three final treasures of this dungeon. You may only choose one. Each is tailored to a different aspect of power. The first will increase your physical might. The second will increase your magical power. Finally, the third will provide you with a bonus to using them in conjunction. None of these treasures will work if you attempt to share them with another. They are for you, and you alone. If you have already used up your natural treasure slots for this Tier, fear not. The power of a god makes many restrictions moot.”

The projection went still, and three pedestals rose out of the ground, each of them holding an item. The first was a vial of golden liquid that sparked with power, seemingly trying to escape the constraints of its prison. The second was a crystal that contained the light of a thousand stars, twinkling side by side. Finally, the third was a small stone model of a person, made out of jet black obsidian.