Eryx stood at the edge of the safe zone, the aftermath of the battle with the Floor Guardian still fresh in his mind. The chamber they had fought in was now eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of energy dissipating from the fallen Guardian. The spoils of victory were theirs, but Eryx knew better than to lower his guard. The Tower was unforgiving, and with each step they took deeper into its heart, the challenges would only grow more severe.
Beside him, Ophis floated silently, her gaze fixed on the shimmering loot that lay before them. Her expression was unreadable, as always, but Eryx could sense the wheels turning in her mind. She was calculating, always thinking several steps ahead.
As Eryx approached the loot, a sudden noise from the shadows caught his attention. He turned sharply, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his sword. Ophis drifted closer to him, her eyes narrowing as she, too, sensed the presence of others.
From the darkness, a group of challengers emerged. Their armor was mismatched and worn, but the greed in their eyes was unmistakable. There were five of them, all armed and ready for a fight. The leader, a tall man with a scar running across his face, stepped forward, his lips curling into a sly grin.
"Well, well," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "It looks like you two did all the hard work for us. How considerate."
Eryx's eyes narrowed as he gauged the newcomers. They were battle-hardened, but something about their stance told him they were more accustomed to taking advantage of others than fighting their own battles. Still, they were not to be underestimated.
"We're not looking for trouble," Eryx said evenly, though his stance remained defensive. "Take what you want and leave us be."
The scarred leader chuckled darkly, his companions joining in with menacing smirks. "Oh, we'll be taking everything. But I'm afraid we can't just let you walk away after you've seen us. You understand, right?"
Ophis, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, her voice as cold and detached as ever. "This is a mistake. You're outmatched."
The leader's grin faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, his pride stoking the flames of his arrogance. "Outmatched? You may have some fancy tricks, girl, but numbers don't lie. Five against two—those are odds I'm willing to bet on."
Eryx's grip on his sword tightened as he felt the familiar pull of the void within him. The energy crackled beneath his skin, eager to be unleashed. But he knew better than to rely solely on the void's power. It was a force of destruction, yes, but one that demanded caution. Directly using it to erase life was a path he was not yet ready to walk. Instead, he would wield it as a weapon of precision, not obliteration.
The tension in the air was thick, each side waiting for the other to make the first move. When it came, it was swift and brutal.
The scarred leader lunged forward, his sword aimed at Eryx's chest. Eryx sidestepped with a fluid motion, his own blade flashing out in a counterattack that the leader barely managed to parry. The clash of steel echoed through the chamber as the other four attackers charged in.
Eryx met them head-on, his sword dancing through the air with deadly precision. He fought with a blend of practiced skill and instinct, each movement calculated to exploit the weaknesses in his opponents' defenses. The void energy surged through him, enhancing his speed and strength, but he kept it carefully controlled, using it to bolster his strikes rather than overwhelm them.
Ophis, meanwhile, stood back, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air. The shadows around them began to shift and distort as she unleashed her mastery of illusion. One moment, the attackers saw her standing still, and the next, she was gone, replaced by flickering images that darted around them, disorienting and confusing.
"Where is she?!" one of the attackers shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he swung his weapon at a phantom image that vanished upon contact.
"She's toying with us!" another cried out, his eyes wide with fear as the illusions closed in around him, turning the battlefield into a nightmarish labyrinth.
Eryx pressed his advantage, his sword cutting through the chaos with ruthless efficiency. The leader, now separated from his comrades, tried to regroup, but Eryx was relentless. A powerful slash connected with the leader's shoulder, sending him stumbling back with a pained grunt.
"You… bastard!" the leader hissed, blood seeping through his armor as he clutched his wounded arm. But his bravado was fading, replaced by the grim realization that they were not going to win this fight.
Ophis's illusions intensified, the shadowy figures closing in on the remaining attackers. One by one, they fell, their minds shattered by the fearsome visions she conjured. The last of them dropped his weapon and fled into the darkness, his screams echoing in the distance as the illusions pursued him.
The scarred leader, now alone and cornered, looked up at Eryx with a mixture of hatred and fear. "You think… you've won?" he spat, his voice trembling. "There are others… stronger than us… who will come for you…"
Eryx gazed down at him, his expression unreadable. "Let them come."
With a final, decisive strike, Eryx ended the leader's life. The man crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling as the last of his breath left him.
Silence fell over the chamber once more. Eryx sheathed his sword, taking a moment to steady his breathing. The void energy within him began to recede, returning to its dormant state.
Ophis floated over to his side, her illusions dissipating as the danger passed. "They underestimated us," she said calmly, her tone devoid of any satisfaction or regret.
"They didn't understand the Tower," Eryx replied, his voice quiet. "They thought it was about strength in numbers. But the Tower is about more than that. It tests you in ways you can't predict."
Ophis nodded, her gaze drifting to the fallen bodies. "Normally, people form large groups to take down a Floor Guardian. It's safer, more reliable. But those who are truly strong… they don't have to rely on numbers."
"There are other ways to pass the floor, aren't there?" Eryx asked, turning to her.
"Yes," Ophis confirmed. "But they take time—time that we don't have if we want to ascend quickly. Defeating the Guardian is the fastest way, but also the most dangerous."
Eryx understood now. The Tower was designed to push them to their limits, to force them to make choices that would define their journey. They could have taken the longer, safer route, but that wasn't who he was. He had chosen the path of the warrior, the path that demanded courage and strength.
And he would continue to choose it, no matter the cost.
"We should collect what we need and move on," Eryx said, breaking the silence. "The next floor won't be any easier."
Ophis agreed, and together they gathered the loot from the Guardian's remains. As they prepared to leave the chamber, Eryx couldn't help but feel a sense of resolve harden within him. The Tower was vast, and the challenges ahead would be greater than anything they had faced so far.
But with Ophis by his side, he knew they could overcome anything. The Tower would test them, break them down, and build them back up again. And when they reached the top, they would be stronger than ever.
As they ascended to the next floor, the whispers of the abyss followed them, a reminder of the power Eryx wielded and the path he had chosen.