Elijah Merrows exhaled, steeling himself as he led a small squad through the maze of half-collapsed buildings. The city’s gloom pressed in from every side, illuminated only by flickering torches and the occasional spark of magic. He checked the map Sandra had scrawled in charcoal on a slab of stone: a rough layout of the blocks they had yet to explore.

Behind him, Nora Reyes moved with surefooted grace, her wind-laced sword glinting in the torchlight. Vince Anders trailed a short distance back, electricity dancing sporadically around his hands. Misha and Patrice kept a wary eye on flanking routes. The rest of the group formed a protective rear, Gideon among them—though his leg still gave him trouble, he refused to stay behind this time.

“This should lead us toward that building with the dome,” Nora whispered, pointing down a broad street. “You said some rescued folks thought it was a smaller temple or maybe a municipal building?”

Elijah nodded, referencing the mental image of their scrawled map. “Yeah. They called it the ‘Hall of Tribute,’ if I recall. We’re hoping to find more puzzle references or undead boss clues. Another stepping stone, maybe.”

Gideon tapped the butt of his spear against the cobbles. “Let’s stay sharp. We saw how organized the undead were in the catacombs.”

The group advanced methodically. Tumbled columns and broken statues littered the street—unsettling silhouettes in the haze. Twice, they encountered scavenger packs, but quickly dispatched them with coordinated ranged and melee strikes. The real worry was some larger presence lurking in the city’s heart.

Finally, they reached a wide plaza. At its center stood a circular edifice capped by a cracked dome. The partial inscription near the entrance read “Tribute Hall.” Though battered, it appeared more intact than many structures.

“Looks big enough for trouble,” Vince muttered, conjuring a swirl of sparks to light the way. “Let’s check the outside first.”

Patrice used Shadowslip to scout. Moments later, she reappeared, shaking her head. “Courtyard’s empty. The building’s main doors are sealed, though. No sign of fresh undead out here.”

Gideon nodded. “All right. We break in carefully. It might connect to the deeper city or house a strong undead.”

Elijah moved to the large doors, each carved with swirling runes. He tested them. They were locked—or jammed. No immediate puzzle panel. Vince tried a spark, and Misha lent her spear as a lever. After some prying, the door groaned open, stirring a cloud of musty air.

Inside, torchlight revealed a vast circular chamber beneath the dome. Rows of stone benches encircled a central pit, like an amphitheater. The faint smell of decay hinted that the place hadn’t been empty for centuries.

Nora led the way down a short flight of steps. “No immediate movement. Maybe it’s safe—” She froze mid-sentence. A scratchy hiss emanated from the far side of the pit. Two tall shapes emerged from shadow.

Unlike the ragged scavengers, these undead wore remnants of armor—plate corroded yet formidable. Their eyes glowed with a keener malevolence. Each gripped a long, notched blade. They advanced with a heavy clank, a disciplined posture that screamed “knight” rather than “mindless ghoul.”

“Form up!” Gideon barked, stepping in front, spear leveled.

The knightly undead advanced methodically, not rushing like the usual scavengers. Vince fired a lightning bolt, but one knight raised its rusted shield with startling reflexes, dispersing much of the energy. The other lunged, forcing Elijah to roll aside.

Nora met its blade with her wind-laced sword, the clang echoing through the hall. Sparks flew. She gritted her teeth; the knight’s sheer strength threatened to overpower her. Elijah, recovering from his dodge, sent a spectral arrow into the knight’s exposed flank. The arrow struck with a dull thud, but the undead hardly flinched.

“This one’s tough!” Nora hissed, pushing back with a burst of wind that knocked the knight off balance. Misha and Patrice flanked, weapons scoring hits on the corroded armor.

Meanwhile, Gideon and Vince engaged the second knight. It swung a heavy blade, forcing Gideon into a parry that jarred his entire arm. Vince circled around, launching quick arcs of lightning at the knight’s unshielded back. Finally, the undead stumbled, giving Gideon an opening to spear it through a gap in the breastplate.

With a horrifying rasp, the knight collapsed. Gideon tore his weapon free, stepping back just as the first knight roared in a guttural voice—an echo of ancient fury. Nora and the others redoubled their assault. Elijah fired another arrow, aiming for the helm. The shot dented the metal. Then Misha drove her spear from behind, cracking the knight’s spine. It sank to its knees, letting Nora deliver a final, decapitating slash.

Silence. The two knights twitched, armor rattling, then lay still. The group panted. Their moans and echoes receded into the dome’s stillness.

“Higher-tier undead,” Gideon muttered, inspecting the fallen knights. “Armed, more disciplined.”

Elijah brushed sweat from his brow. “Means we’re getting closer to the city’s core forces.”

Vince kicked aside a shattered helmet. “Probably smaller guardians. The real boss is bigger.”

Nora exhaled, rolling a sore shoulder. “We can handle them, at least. Everyone okay?”

No serious injuries—just bruises and minor cuts. Lauren, who’d hovered near the entrance, moved in to check on them, her Recovery Sigil glowing softly.

At the center of the hall lay a circular pit, ringed by steps. The party descended carefully. The deeper they went, the more Elijah sensed a latent energy. Runes etched along the walls glowed faintly, reminiscent of prior puzzle sites.

Vince knelt by a small dais at the pit’s center. “There’s definitely a mechanism here,” he said, letting sparks dance over the runes. “Feels like a puzzle lock. Maybe it’s connected to the door those knights were guarding.”

Harold, hurrying up with a torch, tried reading the etched text. “Hmm… partial phrases: ‘Tribute of Dominion … align the four… ???’ Something about synergy again?”

Elijah recalled how some puzzle platforms required multiple Sigil holders or classes. “Could be we need four participants with certain Sigils.”

Nora’s eyes glimmered. “We do have a bunch of Sigils in our group. Let’s see if it responds.”

They arranged themselves around the dais, each placing a hand on a swirling rune. But as they focused, the dais flickered uncertainly. The runes brightened to a dull glow, then flickered out.

“Doesn’t look like we have the correct combination,” Gideon said, frustration lacing his tone.

Misha leaned on her spear. “Or we’re missing something else—like that Dominion Key the city keeps mentioning.”

Vince nodded. “This puzzle might be the next step once we have the official crest or emblem.”

Rather than linger on the inert dais, they searched the rest of the hall. One side chamber contained battered statues—possibly historical figures—along with chipped tablets. Harold tried gleaning text: references to “Tribute for the rightful bearer of Dominion” and a stylized crest shape with swirling lines, reminiscent of earlier puzzle motifs.

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Elijah’s mind spun. Everything is locked behind that city crest. We keep running into illusions of progress. But the puzzle dais confirmed another path: once they had the crest, or some missing piece, they might activate the dais and open a route deeper into the city’s official seat of power.

“Let’s move out,” Gideon announced finally, dissatisfaction evident. “No sense staying. We’ll report back to camp. Maybe the rescued folks or other sub-teams have new intel.”

Returning to camp, the group found the place buzzing with subdued anxiety. More undead had tested the barricades, though smaller packs. Sandra managed the defenses, while Lauren and Harold’s healing efforts kept injuries minimal. Still, the strain showed in every face.

As Elijah and Gideon recounted their run-in with armored knights and an inert puzzle dais, tension rippled through the survivors. “It’s just puzzle after puzzle,” someone muttered. “And we’re the ones risking our lives fighting advanced undead.” Others, newly arrived or exhausted, voiced frustration about the indefinite length of the tutorial stage.

Nora stepped in, calm but firm. “We all knew it wouldn’t be easy. This city is a step up from the caverns. The System wants us to unify or fail.”

An uneasy hush followed. Brittany tried to lighten the mood with her Fortifying Song, but morale was thin. People were tired of endless battles with no immediate payoff.

Afterwards, Elijah found himself near the perimeter, leaning on a half-fallen column. Misha approached, concern etched on her face. “We can’t keep losing momentum. At some point, the undead might rally or a bigger boss might come after us.”

Elijah nodded, gazing over the battered group. “We’ve survived. That means we can push forward, but we’re hitting a wall. We need the right puzzle piece.”

Early the next morning, as the camp roused from uneasy sleep, a scout rushed in from a side alley, out of breath. “We found a trail—some footprints or drips of that necrotic slime leading into a half-buried tower, near the city’s southwestern quadrant.”

Immediately, Gideon, Sandra, Elijah, Nora, Vince, and a few others gathered. “And that’s unusual because…?” Gideon prompted.

The scout—Oscar, still panting—nodded. “It’s fresh. Likely from something big or different than the regular scavengers. The slime is thicker, like it was leaking from a more powerful undead. We followed it to a tower half-collapsed into a sinkhole. Heard weird noises inside.”

Sandra’s gaze sharpened. “Might be another mini-boss, or something carrying a piece of the city crest. It’s worth checking.”

Elijah felt a flicker of determination. “We’ll strike soon, then. Let’s gather a team.”

By mid-morning, a strike force set out. Elijah, Nora, Vince, Gideon, Misha, and a handful more, including Harold and Brittany for support. They navigated southwestern streets, increasingly ravaged by sinkholes. Eventually, they reached the tower Oscar described: a leaning spire embedded in a collapsed portion of the city’s outer wall, half-submerged in rubble. A jagged hole in its side revealed a hollow interior.

Nora tested the ground. “Feels stable enough.” She peered inside the hole—a dark corridor leading deeper into the tower’s base.

The group formed up, Gideon in front despite his limp. Torchlight revealed damp stone steps spiraling downward, as if the tower extended below ground. Slime trails glistened in random patches, each drop exuding a foul stench.

Vince grimaced. “This is definitely not the route to a cozy library.”

They advanced with caution. Twice, they encountered minor undead scavengers, dispatching them with routine efficiency. Then, from the depths, came a booming roar. It reverberated, shaking dust from overhead beams.

“Something big,” Gideon whispered. “Stick together.”

The steps ended in a wide chamber that might have been a sub-basement or storage hall for the tower. Stone pillars supported a ceiling riddled with cracks. Pools of stagnant water dotted the floor. At the far end, a monstrous figure hunched over a collapsed archway.

Elijah’s breath caught. The creature was nearly three meters tall, built like a twisted fusion of an ogre and a zombie, with a single glowing eye and necrotic flesh patched by bone plates. Its arms ended in massive claws. A trail of the same thick slime oozed from wounds in its torso.

“Careful,” Gideon muttered. “This one’s more brute than knight.”

Nora, stepping forward, readied her wind-laced sword. “If it’s the reason for the slime trail, it might be carrying something we need.”

The creature stirred, turning its singular eye on them. With a roar, it charged, each step shaking the floor. Elijah fired an arrow that sank into the beast’s shoulder. It barely slowed. Misha and Patrice flanked from the sides, jabbing spears, while Vince lobbed a crackling arc of electricity. The monster swiped a massive claw, sending Patrice rolling away to avoid dismemberment.

Gideon plunged his spear into the beast’s thigh. It howled, swinging its arm. He ducked, but not fast enough—he caught a glancing blow that spun him into a pillar with a pained groan. Brittany’s Fortifying Song rose sharply, giving them a surge of adrenaline.

Nora darted in, slashing the beast’s flank, wind slicing necrotic flesh. Elijah loosed another arrow, striking the creature’s single eye with a dull thump. The beast bellowed, thrashing blindly.

“Press the advantage!” Vince shouted. He gathered a dense bolt of lightning, releasing it into the monster’s chest. The creature convulsed, black ichor spraying from its gaping wounds.

In a final surge, Misha drove her spear upward through the beast’s jaw, and Nora hacked at its neck. The towering undead collapsed, shaking the chamber. Silence rushed in, broken only by labored breaths.

Harold and Brittany rushed to Gideon’s side, administering quick healing and a revitalizing aura. He coughed, wincing but alive. “Damn brute,” he muttered.

As the monstrous corpse dissolved, Elijah spotted a faint glimmer in the ooze near its chest cavity. He approached carefully, using the tip of his bow to pull it free. It was a small, ornate sigil shaped like a stylized shield, etched with swirling lines reminiscent of the city’s puzzle motifs.

“Finally, something tangible,” Elijah murmured, lifting it to the torchlight. “A crest fragment?”

Vince peered over, sparks flickering. “Might be part of the city crest or a sub-crest used by lesser bosses. We can try it on some puzzle or locked door.”

Nora let out a relieved breath. “At least we didn’t come up empty-handed this time.”

The group surveyed the battered chamber. Besides the monstrous undead’s remains, no further immediate threats lurked. The collapsed archway beyond likely connected to deeper tunnels—too unstable to explore right now.

“Let’s head back,” Gideon said weakly, leaning on Brittany’s support. “We’ll see if this shield sigil interacts with the dais in the Tribute Hall or one of those locked puzzle chests.”

They trudged back to the base, battered but triumphant. Word spread of the monstrous undead’s defeat. Morale lifted as they revealed the ornate shield-shaped sigil. Even Sandra looked heartened.

“Try it in the library chest or the dais?” she asked.

Elijah, exhausted, shared a look with Vince and Nora. “Tomorrow. We’re spent. And if we trigger another puzzle guardian while half of us are in this state…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang.

Gideon seconded that. “We’ll do a cautious test soon. For now, we rest. Good work, everyone.”

Night set in again, or what passed for it under the city’s perpetual gloom. The group took their meager meal of boiled fungus and watery soup, sharing subdued chatter around small fires. Brittany’s quiet tune drifted on the stale air, while Lauren and Harold made the rounds, ensuring injuries were stabilized.

Elijah found a sliver of calm near the camp edge, where Nora sat on a chunk of collapsed column. She offered him a faint smile as he approached. “We’re getting closer,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he agreed, turning the small shield sigil over in his hands. Its patterns glimmered in the torchlight, a promise of forward momentum. Finally, a real lead after so many dead ends.

“You notice the synergy in that fight?” Nora added. “Our moves just… connected better. Vince’s lightning, my wind, your arrows.”

Elijah nodded, remembering how each strike flowed. The group had grown more cohesive, each Sigil feeding off the others in small but noticeable ways. “We’re learning to combine skills. Maybe that’s the real point of all these trials.”

Nora’s gaze drifted to the battered survivors around them. “We just need to hold on until we can unify the city’s puzzle, find the crest, and move on.”

He gently placed a hand over hers, a silent gesture of solidarity. Even in the face of exhaustion, they pressed on—fighting, learning, surviving. For a moment, the quiet hush of the city felt almost peaceful.

The flicker of the shield sigil in his palm reminded him that tomorrow, they would test it. Maybe it would unlock the dais in the Tribute Hall, or open the library chest, or prove worthless by itself. But at least they had a new hope.

Elijah inhaled the cool air. We’ll see what the morning brings, he thought, steeling himself for whatever new challenges lurked in the crypts and corridors of this ancient metropolis. They had come too far to falter now.