Chapter 126: The Rotting Garden

[First Floor]

He turned to them one last time.

" We will enter now , be careful ."

Scarlett nodded. "We're ready."

Layla grinned. "Let's go reap some nightmares."

Lyra's eyes shimmered with frost. "The corruption ends today."

They stepped through.

The moment they entered, the world changed. The dungeon floor was a sickly imitation of nature—trees bent at impossible angles, their leaves curled into skeletal fingers. Flowers bloomed black, releasing clouds of glowing purple pollen that clung to everything.

A vine snapped beneath Noah's foot, and suddenly the ground quivered.

From the soil erupted figures—twisted humanoid plants, their flesh a patchwork of bark, thorn, and moss. Hollow eyes blinked open, glowing with shadow.

Rot Fiends.

Dozens.

"Incoming!" Noah shouted.

They surged forward like a wave. Scarlett vanished, a blur of wind and shadow as she used Shadow Step, reappearing behind the mob. Her daggers glinted with green wind as she unleashed Wind Slash, blades of compressed air carving a path.

Layla leapt, spinning mid-air. Her scythe glowed with cursed purple energy. Reaper's Slash landed like a guillotine, slicing three Fiends in half.

But they exploded upon death, releasing clouds of acidic thorns.

Noah slashed upward with Shadow Strike, sending a crescent of dark mana that cleaved the incoming cloud apart before it could hit Lyra.

Lyra stepped forward, cold breath misting around her. She raised her lance and cast Frost Lance, a shard of gleaming ice shooting through five Fiends at once. They froze mid-scream before shattering like glass.

"There's more coming!" Scarlett warned, dodging between exploding fiends and slicing through vines with Silent Gale, a flurry of dagger slashes carried by wind.

"I've got the left!" Noah called. He spun and unleashed Gale Dance, his second sword form—a whirlwind of slashes and footwork that cut through a wave of enemies in a blur. His blade moved like flowing wind, precise and untouchable.

Layla's scythe pulsed again.

Hex of Misfortune.

A glyph appeared beneath a cluster of Fiends, and their vines twisted unnaturally, turning on each other. They shrieked, tearing themselves apart.

"They're swarming too fast!" Lyra yelled. She slammed her lance into the ground. Snow Fall burst outward, blanketing the area in freezing mist. The Fiends slowed, their bodies icing over. Scarlett slipped through the frozen battlefield with ease.

From the mist, a roar.

Two massive Tainted Trolls charged, their bodies pulsating with black veins, eyes glowing hellish red.

Layla grinned. "Finally, something fun."

She met one head-on. The troll swung its fist, but she ducked low, dragging her scythe across its legs. Purple energy exploded from the contact—Wait of the Damned activated. The troll's movements slowed, limbs heavy as lead.

It tried to regenerate.

Noah appeared beside her, blade flaming with orange light. "Not today."

Fire Cannon.

A blast of flame engulfed the troll's torso, burning the corrupted flesh beyond recovery.

Scarlett, meanwhile, dealt with the second. She blurred between trees, throwing Shadow Spears to pin its limbs. Then she flicked her fingers—Assassin's Mark glowed bright.

She appeared behind it. Dagger Storm.

Hundreds of spectral daggers rained down, each slicing at joints and tendons. The troll screamed, collapsing in a heap.

Lyra stood at the center of the battlefield, eyes glowing blue. She raised her hands.

Snowstorm.

A blizzard erupted across the garden, freezing lingering Fiends and coating the corrupted plants in rime. The field fell quiet.

"We need to keep moving," Noah said, panting lightly.

They navigated through twisted paths, some leading to treasure chambers—one containing a strange crystalline vial that pulsed with mana. Another led to a corrupted altar. The moment they neared it, it whispered.

Visions. Screams. Faces twisted in agony.

"This place is cursed," Scarlett muttered, shaken.

Noah approached and placed his palm on the altar. His Purification spell ignited in radiant gold, burning away the blackened sigils. The altar screeched, shattering into light.

As the dust faded, a faint warmth lingered.

"One down," he whispered.

Finally, they reached a broken clearing—roots twisted above them like a skeletal canopy. A fallen hero's enchantment lingered here, forming a weak barrier.

A place of rest.

They sat in silence, the sound of distant vines shifting still echoing.

And then—

Noah clutched his chest. Something pulsed. A message burned in his mind.

The dungeon was far from over.

And deeper down, something waited.

Something watching.

To be continued...