The Trial Dungeon (3)
"Haa… haa…"
Evan panted heavily, his chest heaving as he surveyed the golems encircling him.
In the beginning, only fragile constructs that could be felled in a single stroke had appeared, but that brief grace period had not lasted. Not only were their stony bodies growing progressively denser and larger, but smaller, agile golems had also begun swarming in packs, harrying them incessantly as if mocking any thought of letting down their guard. Worse still, unlike the clumsy, lumbering brutes they had faced at the entrance, these newer waves struck with ruthless precision and even coordinated rudimentary tactics, proving to be an exhausting challenge for Evan and Danas.
As the speed at which they could dismantle each construct dragged, the number of encroaching golems naturally multiplied. That swelling horde made fighting back even more taxing, dragging their clearing speed down further in a vicious, spiraling cycle. No matter how diligently I restored their sapped stamina from the sidelines, there seemed to be no end in sight. Minor wounds and scratches steadily accumulated across Evan and Danas's bodies.
"They certainly… didn't call this the Trial of Strength for nothing…!"
Channeling his power into the Holy Sword, Evan shouted as he unleashed a sweeping, full-bodied slash. A crescent arc of sacred power erupted from the blade as sword aura, bisecting several rushing golems in a single stroke. The raw power behind the strike was magnificent, yet it failed to shatter the cores lodged deep inside them. Cold sweat beaded on Evan's forehead as he clicked his tongue, watching the severed stone bodies knit themselves back together in seconds.
"At this rate, there'll be no end to them…"
"Indeed… their numbers are far too great," Danas agreed, his breath ragged.
Wiping away a sheen of cold sweat, Evan glanced around at the surrounding constructs before turning back toward me. "Aria… do you happen to have any idea how far we've come?"
[…I apologize. Even I cannot say for certain.]
In truth, I knew full well.
Once the attack patterns turned vicious and a varied roster of golem archetypes began coordinating their assaults, it meant you were roughly halfway through. Still, if I claimed to know even that, it would look excessively suspicious, so pleading ignorance was the wiser choice.
"I see…" Evan muttered, disappointment lacing his tone. In the next breath, he cleaved through an approaching golem and followed through in a seamless motion to shatter the mana core nested within its chest. Earlier, the two of them had struggled to target those elusive spheres, but now they had adapted to the point where they located and destroyed the core the instant the outer shell cracked open.
"You mentioned this was the Trial of Strength, so some hardship was to be expected, but… is it truly meant to be this treacherous?" Danas asked, parrying an incoming stone fist.
Treacherous, huh…
In the game, this place had been a hidden dungeon, so its baseline difficulty was notoriously brutal. It wasn't just tough mechanically; the stat requirements were brutally high as well. To be completely honest, the gap between their current stats and what was recommended at this point in the progression was so massive that entering now was practically suicidal—for an ordinary player, that was.
[By design, the Trial Dungeon is meant to be braved by the Hero alone… and given that you have entered before you were truly prepared, this trial was bound to be arduous.]
Projecting my thoughts softly, I raised a barrier of divine power to deflect a golem lunging straight for me. Frankly, I wouldn't have minded in the least surrendering my flesh to the golem's pounding fists, but standing there defenseless without even bothering to deploy a protective barrier would make me look utterly deranged. It couldn't be helped.
At least they're weaker than high demons…
Whenever high demons put their backs into an attack, my barriers tended to shatter and turn the whole place into a chaotic bloodbath. Fortunately, against these golems, my barrier could hold up passably well even with several of them swarming over it and hammering away. Granted, "passably well" was a far cry from "unshakable," but considering Evan and Danas were struggling to hold their ground, that seemed only natural.
"Does that mean… we were supposed to come here only after preparing thoroughly?" Evan asked.
[If that preparation refers to your awakening as the Hero, then yes. Seeing as you have barely taken your first steps… it would be entirely ordinary to fall short in this trial. In fact, you are being driven back by the golems even now, are you not?]
Well, there was still no reason to fret. The Trial Dungeon didn't give a damn about how pretty your clear looked anyway. As long as you succeeded in clearing it by any means necessary, it would stamp you with a clean, unconditional pass without fussing over technicalities. If that weren't the case, the developers would have patched out the cheesy skips in the game long ago.
[As long as I support you, Sir Hero… you will undoubtedly overcome this.]
Just as I held off another golem with my barrier and prepared to top off their health, Evan gasped in shock and yelled over the din.
"Wait a second… doesn't that mean we shouldn't even be here right now?!"
Ah… is that how it sounded?
I hadn't intended to imply that, but reflecting on what I'd just said, it was easy to see how he could take it that way. Obviously, I wouldn't have dragged them along if there was zero chance of victory. No matter how hopelessly addicted I was to masochistic ecstasy, I still possessed basic common sense.
Someone might argue that while a low-spec clear was possible in the game thanks to known exploits and walkthrough guides, this had become reality—and knowing the strategy wouldn't eliminate the inherent lethality. But really? It wasn't actually that dangerous.
I knew every gimmick, pattern, and trap tied to the trash mobs roaming this place, and I even had a foolproof method to completely neutralize the floor boss. Backed by my overwhelming buffs, bottomless healing, and the divine authority to resurrect someone should the unthinkable happen, there were practically zero variables to worry about.
The only conceivable hazard would be the trauma of being crushed into paste by a golem, developing crippling PTSD, and cowering in fear of stone monsters forever after. But since I had every intention of supporting them to ensure they never died in such a gruesome manner, there was no need for alarm.
[As I mentioned earlier, you need not worry as long as I am with you. The gap can be comfortably bridged by my healing and blessings.]
"I-Is that so?"
To be fair, considering that my barrier was already straining against their assaults when we were only just past the halfway mark, my words might not have sounded entirely reassuring… but Evan and Danas were formidable warriors in their own right. If I fed them the enemies' structural weak points and clamped down on unforeseen variables, we would clear the Trial of Strength without anyone suffering lasting harm.
Unless, of course, some bizarre accident occurred…
Like stepping on a hidden pressure plate before I had a chance to point it out.
Besides, stumbling onto a trap across a chamber this vast isn't an easy feat in the first place…
Even if life wasn't guaranteed, this was an ancient trial designed to test candidates, so the mechanisms weren't gratuitously sadistic. The nastiest trap in the entire roster was merely a pitfall that dumped you onto a lower floor, making the trek to the boss chamber a bit more tedious. Furthermore, unlike insidious dungeon traps crafted to be virtually undetectable, the traps here were cordoned into distinct zones. Anyone paying close attention would spot the tells on the stonework. In short, once we approached a trap sector, I could simply point it out, and as long as we navigated it carefully, the traps were as good as nonexistent.
I was just about to reassure them with that very explanation.
Yet I had overlooked one crucial detail.
Reality and video games were fundamentally different beasts.
Clack!
"Huh…?"
In the game, enemy units triggering traps was virtually unheard of. That was standard gaming common sense. While some hyper-realistic titles made traps trigger regardless of friend or foe, Arhen Academy's simulated environments usually enforced strict faction filters, making such friendly-fire triggers virtually unthinkable.
Reality, however, did not follow game coding.
Traps operated on mechanical leverage and physical pressure. And the golems roaming this subterranean chamber, while sustained by repair enchantments anchored to their cores, were still dense masses of enchanted stone governed by the laws of physics. Naturally, if a golem was struck by Danas or Evan, sent flying through the air, and slammed down onto a pressure plate, the sheer weight would depress the mechanism just like any intruder's boot.
The trap engaged.
Worse still, the golem Evan had just blasted away with his blade hurtled across the chamber, driven by sheer momentum and crushing mass, before embedding itself dead center onto a raised floor tile. The impact forcibly triggered the mechanism, and the flagstones beneath Evan's feet abruptly collapsed into an abyss, sending him plummeting downward.
And that was not all.
Slip!
[Ah…?]
Of all places, I happened to be standing right beside Evan, perched precariously on the brink where a single misstep would pitch me over the edge. With the stone floor beneath us vanishing into nothingness, my footing dissolved, and my body lost all semblance of balance.
"Waaagh?!"
Already tottering, my feet skidded helplessly over empty air, and I plunged alongside Evan straight down into the pitch-black depths of the Trial Dungeon.
"L-Lady Aria!!!" Danas's voice thundered from above, frantic with horror.
[Fall back, Danas! You cannot handle them alone!]
In a split-second crisis like this, there was only one course of action left to take.
"A-Aria?!"
To ensure Evan took as little harm as possible, I wrapped my arms around him and twisted my body so that I was beneath him, facing the bottom of the pit.
It absolutely wasn't because I was worried about Evan, nor was it because I yearned to savor the exquisite agony of falling from great heights while having Evan's heavy frame crash down on top of me. Not at all.
Since my body could effortlessly regenerate anyway, leaving him to shatter his bones—or even perish from fall damage—would be utterly counterproductive. Having me absorb the brunt of the impact so only one of us was injured was purely a matter of optimal efficiency.
Yes. That was the only reason.
Seriously.