Chapter 15 – The Heart of the Labyrinth

The battlefield was no longer just stone and shadow—it was war incarnate. The very walls of the dungeon pulsed like a living entity, feeding off the chaos that raged within its depths. The strike team, battered but unyielding, fought through the encroaching abyss, their dwindling numbers a testament to the ferocity of their stand.

Reo Kanzaki watched it all unfold through the Dungeon Core's ethereal gaze. His fingers traced invisible patterns in the air, altering the very fabric of the labyrinth. The second floor had fully integrated into the dungeon's abyssal network, creating an environment that shifted between reality and nightmare.

Now, it was time to test the final piece of his masterpiece.

With a flick of his hand, he activated the Labyrinth's Heart—a hidden mechanism buried deep within the dungeon, one that had slumbered for ages. The moment his command resonated through the Core, the entire structure responded. Runes, long dormant, erupted into blinding light. Hallways twisted, reconfiguring themselves into impossible mazes. Doors led to nowhere. Traps, previously hidden, now flickered to life with deadly precision.

The battlefield was no longer an open clash of swords and spells. It was a labyrinth of death, and the invaders had just stepped into its embrace.

Captain Alric barely had time to register the shift before the ground beneath him gave way. He fell—hard—crashing into an unseen floor below. His ears rang, his vision swam, but his instincts screamed at him to move. When he looked up, he was no longer with his men.

The others had vanished.

Around him, the walls pulsed like a breathing organism, shifting with every step. Torches flickered, their light twisting into elongated shadows that moved when he wasn't looking.

He had faced countless dungeons before, but this… this was something else.

"This place… is alive," he muttered, gripping his sword tightly.

He wasn't wrong.

At the same time, Archmage Elara and Bishop Lorne found themselves in a completely different section of the labyrinth. Gone were the monstrous abominations—now, the air was thick with an unnatural silence.

Lorne tightened his grip on his staff, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Something is watching us."

Elara, ever the strategist, was already analyzing the shifting patterns of the dungeon. "This is no ordinary domain," she murmured. "It's as if the labyrinth itself has a will… and it's playing with us."

Before she could continue, an unseen force slammed into them. The walls groaned, the air turned cold, and then—voices.

Whispers, soft yet deafening, filled the corridor. They spoke in languages both ancient and unknown. Some were voices of the fallen, others of beings that had never belonged to the mortal plane.

The labyrinth was speaking.

And it had something to show them.

Far above, Reo stood at the core of his creation, feeling the surge of power that radiated through the labyrinth. He could feel the invaders' confusion, their desperation, their terror.

But then, something unexpected happened.

For the first time, the Core spoke back to him.

"You are not the first."

Reo's body tensed. The voice was neither machine nor magic—it was something deeper, older.

"You are not the first Dungeon Master to hold this power. And you will not be the last."

Memories that were not his own flooded his mind. Visions of past masters, rulers of this abyssal realm, each meeting an unknown fate. Some had ascended beyond mortality, becoming gods of their own dominions. Others had been consumed by their own creations, lost to madness or erased from existence.

The Core pulsed.

Reo clenched his fists. "Then I will be the last. The one who masters this labyrinth completely."

A deep rumble answered him, neither in approval nor defiance.

The game had changed.

Back within the maze, Jerrod—the Abyss-Touched champion—felt a shift in his corrupted soul. The labyrinth called to him, whispering truths he had long forgotten. The memories of his former life were clawing at his mind, fighting against the abyssal corruption that had enslaved him.

Was he a warrior of the light? Or was he now forever bound to the darkness?

The answer lay at the labyrinth's heart.

And all paths led there.