Preparation for the 12th Floor

Mark and Kilian left the arena of the 11th floor, their bodies still marked by the battles, but their minds focused on what lay ahead. As soon as they arrived in the European City, they felt a shift. They were no longer just survivors of the dungeon; they were now pioneers, paving the way for the rest of the human players.

The first thing they needed to do before continuing was to increase their strength. They found a specialized training area where they could cultivate their bloodlines and push their limits.

Mark sat in a lotus position, closed his eyes, and plunged into meditation. His blood quickly began to boil in his veins, creating a searing pain that radiated through his entire body. Every second spent in this state felt like being forged in molten metal. His bloodline, the Shattered Titan, slowly awakened, increasing the density of his muscles, the resilience of his skin, and the efficiency of his energy flow.

Spasms ran through his arms, his skin briefly cracking under the pressure of raw energy trying to break free. He knew he had to push further. He intensified his focus, diving deeper into the flow of his bloodline. His body vibrated under the strain of evolution, each cell strengthening under the assault of pain. When he finally opened his eyes, a faint golden aura emanated from his skin, a tangible sign of his ascension.

Kilian, on the other hand, followed a similar process, though his Titanic Knight bloodline, influenced by Mark's essence, took a slightly different path. His body became more fluid, his control over his sword more precise, and every beat of his heart seemed to synchronize with his weapon. His blood had become denser, and every fiber of his being vibrated with a contained power, waiting to be unleashed at the right moment.

To perfect his mastery, Kilian alternated between meditation and physical training. He practiced wielding his massive sword with increased fluidity, integrating faster and stronger movements. He struck with force, shattering a series of reinforced stone blocks to test the evolution of his power. His sword, now infused with his bloodline, felt more reactive, more alive, as if it resonated with him.

After several hours of intense cultivation, a notification screen appeared before them:

[[Cultivation Progress]]

Mark Derohan: Shattered Titan – Stage 3 (+10 Strength, +8 Endurance, +5 Constitution)

Kilian Voss: Titanic Knight – Stage 2 (+8 Strength, +6 Agility, +5 Constitution)

Their evolution was evident. They had become much more resilient and powerful than when they had left the 11th floor. But it wasn't enough. They knew the 12th-floor trial would be a test of endurance, and they had to be fully prepared.

They headed to the combatant market, where artifacts, potions, and specialized equipment were sold by AI merchants. Mark and Kilian invested their hard-earned credits in crucial upgrades:

Armor Reinforcement: Enhanced suits to absorb impacts more effectively.

Advanced Regeneration Potions: Allowing faster recovery after battle.

Anchor Stones: Items that stabilize a fortress and increase its resistance to sieges.

Energy Barrier Scrolls: Usable in emergencies to temporarily block an attack.

Secondary Weapon for Kilian: A reinforced dagger made of stellar steel, offering him an alternative in close combat.

Strength-enhancing Artifact for Mark: A bracelet engraved with runes that amplifies his blows when he releases his energy.

Before leaving the market district, Kilian turned to Mark.

— "Do you think we're ready?" he asked.

Mark clenched his fists, feeling the power coursing through his veins. He always had a strange sensation after cultivation, as if his own body were a battlefield in constant transformation.

— "We'll never be completely ready," he replied with a smirk. "But we're stronger than ever."

With their preparations complete, they headed to the teleportation zone.

[[System Announcement: Entering the 12th Floor Trial]]

A halo of light enveloped them, and in an instant, they vanished from the city.

Mark and Kilian barely had time to adjust before they felt the weightless sensation of teleportation pull them forward. Their surroundings blurred, and within seconds, they found themselves standing atop an elevated stone platform, the cold wind whipping against their faces. A sharp gust carried with it the scent of damp stone and burning metal, a sign that this battlefield had witnessed countless sieges and wars.

Before them stretched a vast war-torn land, ruins of old fortresses scattered across the desolate landscape. Towering bastions loomed in the distance, each belonging to a different team. Some were made of solid obsidian-like stone, imposing and nearly impenetrable. Others shone with energy barriers, their surfaces humming with power.

The 12th-floor trial: Siege of the Titans had begun.

As they took in the sight before them, the system interface appeared with new information.

[[12th Floor Trial - Siege of the Titans]]

Objective: Defend your fortress from waves of monstrous invaders while securing your position against other teams.

Survival Condition: Be among the last five fortresses standing after three days.

Additional Rule: Teams may attack and conquer other fortresses. Points earned through enemy eliminations.

A deep rumble in the distance caught Mark's attention. At the far end of the battlefield, he could make out nine other fortresses, each belonging to a different team. He quickly noted the variations in design—some were clearly built for defense, while others were optimized for speed and mobility.

A sudden thunderous crack made Kilian tighten his grip on his sword. "Looks like some of these teams are already testing each other," he muttered.

Mark nodded. "We need to assess our own defenses first. We don't even know what resources we have yet."

Turning around, they saw their own fortress—a solid structure made of reinforced obsidian-like stone, but visibly weathered by time. Large cracks ran along sections of the outer wall, and the main gate was barely holding together. Inside, a central keep loomed over two watchtowers, and a few defensive ballistae and catapults stood, though they were covered in rust and half-broken.

Mark placed a hand against the outer wall, pressing lightly. It held, but barely.

— "We weren't given a brand-new fortress, that's for sure," Kilian muttered, testing the strength of a nearby barricade. "We'll need to make repairs fast."

Mark turned toward the supplies scattered inside the courtyard. They weren't completely defenseless. Stacks of iron, stone, and wooden reinforcements were available, but they needed to act quickly.

Before they could start, a loud horn suddenly echoed across the battlefield.

[[Warning: The first wave of enemies will arrive in five minutes. Prepare for combat.]]

Mark's muscles tensed. They had barely arrived, and the fight was already about to start.

A low tremor ran through the ground beneath them. It was subtle at first, like an approaching storm, but quickly grew into a thunderous quake.

Kilian gritted his teeth. "Whatever's coming, it's big."

Mark quickly climbed the southern watchtower, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Then, he saw them. The first wave of monsters.

Dark four-legged beasts, twice the size of warhorses, surged forward like a tidal wave. Their gleaming silver exoskeletons reflected the pale sunlight, making them look almost metallic. Their long, serrated tails whipped through the air, while rows of razor-sharp fangs protruded from their massive jaws.

Mark clenched his fists. These weren't just mindless beasts. They moved in coordinated formations.

"Not good," he muttered. "They're trained."

Kilian stood beside him. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Mark smirked. "We take the fight to them before they reach the walls."

Without hesitation, Kilian leaped down and slammed his colossal sword into the earth. The impact shook the ground, sending a shockwave of force outward, throwing dust into the air.

Mark followed, channeling his Shattered Titan bloodline. His muscles bulged with raw energy, veins pulsing with a golden glow. The first of the metallic beasts lunged at them.

Kilian moved first, swinging his greatsword with bone-shattering force. The blade cleaved through the monster's exoskeleton, splitting it in two with a sickening crack. Blood, dark and viscous, sprayed onto the dirt.

Mark wasn't far behind. His fists collided with the second beast's skull, sending a brutal shockwave that caved in its head like crumpled steel. The lifeless body collapsed instantly.

More creatures charged, but this time, they were ready.

Mark moved like a living battering ram, tearing through their ranks with pure, unrelenting strength. Kilian's blade carved a path, each swing severing multiple enemies in one fluid motion.

Despite their initial success, the beasts kept coming, relentless. They weren't mindless creatures—they were adapting to their attacks, moving with calculated precision.

Mark narrowed his eyes. "This is only the first wave."

Kilian spat on the ground, gripping his sword tighter. "Then we'd better make sure we're still standing for the last one."

From the corner of his eye, Mark spotted movement near another fortress. He turned just in time to see a massive explosion erupt along its walls.

The first fortress had fallen.

The trial had truly begun.

Mark wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing steady despite the chaos around him. The battlefield was turning into a slaughterhouse. The first wave had been manageable, but now the second and third waves had merged into one relentless onslaught, stretching their defenses thin.

The metallic beasts had adapted. No longer did they charge blindly into the walls; instead, they moved with precision, targeting weak points. Some began scaling the outer defenses, their serrated tails latching onto the stone like grappling hooks, pulling themselves up like monstrous arachnids. Others formed coordinated assault squads, bombarding the fortress with calculated strikes.

Kilian slammed his colossal sword into the ground, sending a wave of kinetic energy outward, shattering several creatures mid-climb. Mark, moving with inhuman agility, leaped high, grabbing one of the beasts before it reached the top. With a single devastating motion, he ripped it from the wall and hurled it down, crushing several others below.

A notification flashed across their vision.

[[Alert: Second Wave of Enemies Defeated.]]

[[Third Wave Approaching. Adaptive Response Detected.]]

Mark landed on the ramparts beside Kilian, his muscles tensed. "They're getting smarter."

Kilian exhaled heavily, rolling his shoulders. "Then we'll just have to hit them harder."

Before they could regroup, a massive explosion rocked the battlefield. A shockwave of fire and debris tore through the air as a nearby fortress erupted into flames. From their elevated position, they saw an unknown team breaching another fortress with ruthless efficiency.

[[Alert: First Team Eliminated. Nine Remaining.]]

Mark's fists clenched. "It's already starting."

The other teams weren't just defending—they were hunting. Their fortress could be next.

Kilian gritted his teeth. "We need to be ready. If they see us as weak, they'll strike."

As if on cue, a deep horn echoed across the battlefield. From the distant hills beyond the monster horde, figures emerged.

They were not beasts.

They were humanoids.

Clad in segmented black armor that seemed to shift and blend with the environment, they moved with an unsettling grace. Their eyes glowed deep crimson, and each carried a weapon pulsating with strange energy.

[[Warning: Elite Units Detected. Identified: Warborn Exiles.]]

Mark's heart pounded. "These aren't just random enemies. These are warriors."

One of the figures raised a long, jagged spear, pointing directly at them. In an instant, a dozen warriors broke into a sprint, their movements inhumanly fast. They weren't just fighting through the monster hordes—they were tearing through them with terrifying efficiency.

Mark gritted his teeth. "They're coming straight for us."

Kilian tightened his grip on his sword. "Let's welcome them properly."

The first of the Warborn Exiles reached the outer defenses, vaulting over the barricades with unnatural precision. One lunged straight at Kilian, his curved blade aimed at his throat. Kilian barely had time to raise his sword before the force of the strike sent a shockwave through his arms.

Mark met another head-on, his fist colliding with the attacker's spear in mid-thrust. Sparks exploded as the sheer force of impact shattered the weapon's shaft, but the warrior retaliated with an explosive kick, sending Mark skidding backward.

These weren't mindless creatures. They were experienced killers.

Kilian recovered just in time to parry another strike, his blade locking with his opponent's. The warrior snarled something in an unknown language before twisting his weapon, aiming for Kilian's exposed side. Kilian pivoted, deflecting the attack before slamming his knee into the warrior's ribs, sending him crashing into the stone ramparts.

Mark dodged a series of rapid jabs before countering with a devastating uppercut. His fist connected with bone-breaking force, launching his opponent off the walls entirely. But there were more coming.

A loud war cry echoed in the distance. Mark turned his head just in time to see a second group of humanoid warriors moving toward their fortress.

"They're not alone," he muttered, wiping blood from his lips. "We're being targeted."

Kilian spat on the ground. "Then let's make sure they regret it."

The true battle had just begun.