Chapter 12: Into The Tower

Damien had thought he knew brutality. He thought he had faced the worst when he survived the underground fighting rings, clawing his way to victory and staying alive by sheer grit and willpower. But the Dungeon Towers were nothing like the fighting rings. Here, there were no rules. No referees. No crowds to cheer. Only death, lurking in every shadow, waiting for a single misstep.

The Wanderers had warned him Kara, Niko, and Elen had told him how dangerous the towers were, how they were created by the gods to challenge their champions, to break those who weren't worthy. But Damien had never been one to back down from a challenge. His overconfidence led him to believe that he could handle whatever the towers threw at him. After all, he had fought his way through the worst humanity could offer-how much worse could the tower be?

He learned the answer quickly

From the moment they stepped inside, Damien could feel the weight of the place. The air was thick, oppressive, making it difficult to breathe. The walls of the tower were carved from black stone, cold and unyielding, with faintly glowing runes pulsing like the heartbeat of some ancient beast. Each floor had its own malevolent presence, a challenge more brutal than the last, and it became clear why so many had failed here

The floors were littered with bones- human, elf, dwarf, and others that were too twisted and deformed to belong to any race Damien knew. Skeletons lay strewn across the corridors, some still in pieces from their last desperate battle. Many had died mid-struggle, weapons still clutched in bony hands, their armor cracked and rusted from the ages. The scent of death permeated everything. It was clear that this place was not just a challenge-it was a graveyard for those who had dared to enter.

At first, Damien fought with confidence. His training with the Wanderers had sharpened him, and he cut through the initial waves of enemies with ease. Goblin-like creatures swarmed the first floor their pale, bulbous eyes reflecting the dim light of the tower as they shrieked and attacked with crude weapons. Damien dispatched them with brutal efficiency, his fists and feet moving like they had in the underground rings. He felt strong, invincible even.

But as they descended deeper into the tower, the creatures became more formidable, more twisted. The second floor was home to Grulks hulking beasts with leathery, gray skin and tusks that protruded from their snarling mouths. They moved slower than the goblins, but their sheer size made up for it. Their massive arms could crush stone, and their hide was thick, almost impenetrable. Damien barely managed to dodge a blow that would have shattered his ribs, and it took everything he had to bring them down. It was a reminder that the deeper they went, the more dangerous the tower would become.

The third floor was worse. Damien's cockiness led him to push ahead of the others, confident that his growing strength could handle whatever was next. But the enemies here were unlike anything he had ever faced. Necrofiends-twisted, skeletal creatures wreathed in shadow-stalked the corridors. Their hollow eye sockets glowed with an unnatural fire, and they moved with an eerie, fluid grace. They wielded magic=dark, corrupting magic that burned the air around them and made Damien's skin crawl.

The battle against the Necrofiends was brutal. Damien fought with everything he had, but for every fiend he destroyed, another two took its place. They clawed at him with bony fingers, and their dark magic left burns on his flesh, searing his skin and sending waves of agony through his body. His punches hit harder than ever, but his blows felt slower, more desperate as the magic drained his energy. It wasn't long before he was on the verge of collapse, his vision blurring as the fiends closed in around him

He had been reckless. In his arrogance, he had underestimated the tower, pushing deeper than he was ready for. Now, surrounded by the corpses of those who had failed before him, Damien faced death.

The Necrofiends struck as one, their jagged claws tearing into his flesh, Damien felt the sickening crack of his ribs, the burning sting of their magic as it ate away at his skin. Blood poured from his wounds pooling beneath him. His strength- his supernatural endurance-wasn't enough. His body was failing, and the creatures were relentless. He was going to die here, just like so many before him.

But then, something changed. As Damien's vision faded, as the life bled out of him, he felt it-that strange, primal energy inside him. The power that had been stirring ever since his first encounters with the supernatural world, the power he still didn't fully understand. It surged through him, burning hotter than the Necrofiends' magic, forcing his body to heal. His bones snapped back into place, the flesh stitching itself together at an unnatural speed.

Fueled by this raw, uncontrollable energy, Damien roared and pushed back against the fiends. His attacks became faster, stronger, more vicious. His fists collided with their bony forms, shattering them with ease. The last of the Necrofiends crumbled into dust, leaving Damien standing alone in a sea of death

But the victory came at a cost Damien staggered, his body wracked with pain. The energy inside him was powerful, but it was unstable. It left him drained, and his mind reeled from the intensity of it. He wasn't just fighting anymore-he was surviving, barely hanging on by the thread of this mysterious power that he couldn't control.

As he collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily, Kara and the others found him. Kara's face was grim, her eyes sharp as she assessed the damage. "You almost got yourself killed," she said, kneeling beside him. "You're not ready for the deeper floors, not yet."

Damien didn't argue. The pain was too intense, and the reality of how close he had come to dying was too raw. He had been foolish, blinded by his own growing strength. He realized now that the Dungeon Towers weren't just a challenge-they were designed to break even the strongest warriors, to push them beyond their limits until there was nothing left but bones and regret

"The deeper you go," Niko added, "the more dangerous it becomes. You've seen the skeletons-these aren't just lost adventurers. Some of these belonged to gods' champions. The ones who failed."

Elen stood by silently, watching him with cold eyes. "The tower doesn't care who you are. It will crush you if you let it."

They pulled Damien to his feet, but his mind was still reeling from the near-death experience. The creatures in the tower weren't just monsters- they were manifestations of the gods' cruelty, creations designed to test, torment, and kill. And Damien had barely survived his first encounter with the Necrofiends What lay further below was worse. Much worse

As they helped him back up to the higher levels, Damien couldn't shake the feeling that the tower had sensed something in him-something dark and dangerous. The primal energy that had saved his life was awakening, but it was unstable volatile. The Wanderers had taken him in to help him train, to harness his strength, but Damien was beginning to realize that there were forces inside him that even the Wanderers didn't understand

The Dungeon Towers had shown him just how fragile he still was. But they had also revealed a terrifying truth: that power inside him, the one he still didn't fully comprehend, was both his greatest weapon and his greatest curse. If he couldn't learn to control it, the tower wouldn't be the only thing that would destroy him.

And as they left the dungeon behind, the memory of the skeletal remains, the monsters, and the brutal trials they had faced lingered in his mind, This was only the beginning. There were deeper floors to the tower, darker challenges that would make the Necrofiends seem like a minor inconvenience.

But next time, Damien vowed, he would be ready.