Dungeon of Trials (9)
“Haa… haa…”
That single strike had drawn upon every drop of mana surging through his veins, unleashing it all in one explosive burst.
It went down…!
The impact had utterly pulverized the golem’s legs, sending the titan crashing to the cavern floor in a heap of shattered stone. Yet because its core remained intact, the construct was far from dead. Grounded though it was, its massive upper body still thrashed with relentless fury. Left unchecked, it would inevitably reconstruct its crushed limbs, rendering Evan’s desperate gamble utterly meaningless.
I can’t let that happen…!
Swallowing down his ragged breath, Evan raised his eyes toward the towering monolith, his gaze burning with stubborn resolve. The lingering embers of his sacred power illuminated the golem’s colossal arm as it came tearing through the air.
Twisting his torso with a sharp pivot, he slipped under the sweeping blow by a hair’s breadth. The arm missed him by inches and slammed directly into the dungeon wall. A deafening crash—loud enough to be mistaken for an explosive detonation—reverberated through the chamber, churning up thick clouds of pulverized stone and blinding dust.
If even a single one of those blows connected, there wouldn’t be enough left of his bones to bury. Cold sweat trickled down Evan’s neck as he stared up at the behemoth. He had harbored a faint hope that shattering its legs might slow down its assault, but the construct brazenly trampled all over those expectations.
It was enough to drive him mad. Legend held that the ancient Hero had conquered this trial entirely on his own. Yet trial of strength or not, how in the world was any single mortal supposed to bring down a colossus like this? It wasn't even sluggish; despite standing dozens of meters tall, its reflexes were brutally sharp.
Cursing inwardly, Evan weaved through the ongoing barrage of strikes, stealing a glance toward the golem’s lower body. Sure enough, perhaps due to its sheer scale, the regeneration of its legs was noticeably delayed. It was creeping along at a pace almost hard to believe, compared to the rapid recovery of the smaller golems they had faced before. Even so, slow was not stopped. If he stalled any longer, those massive stone pillars would reform completely—and once that happened, all hope would vanish.
I need an opening…
Raining down strikes from a distance was pointless. To deliver a blow powerful and precise enough to shatter the core, closing the distance was mandatory. He could no longer unleash a massive, long-range slash like the one that had severed its legs; gathering that much power took far too long, and attempting it while ducking frantic swings from those massive arms would be nothing short of suicide.
Then where was a position that hindered its attacks, bought him precious seconds, and brought him as close to the core as possible?
Its arm…!
He would ride the arm up.
Instead of funneling his remaining mana into the Holy Sword, Evan wrapped it tightly around his own flesh. It was basic body reinforcement—the fundamental technique mastered by every knight who wielded a blade. Heightened further by sacred power, his physical senses and dynamic vision sharpened to a razor’s edge. He tracked the sweeping trajectories of the golem’s oncoming hands, searching for the exact moment to leap.
Whoosh! Crash! Rumble!
“Kh…”
The golem slammed its palm into the cavern floor, its multi-meter stone fingers churning the earth in an attempt to pin him down. Evan barely evaded the grasping talons of stone, his eyes never leaving the construct’s shifting mechanics. Then, while its elbow remained planted on the ground, the golem’s torso twisted in an unnatural arc—an impossible contortion achievable only because it was an inanimate automaton unburdened by bone and joint.
That’s it.
Instinct told him this was the windup. Its coiled torso whipped back like a released spring, sweeping its raised arm horizontally through the air at terrifying speed. Staring directly into the path of the incoming stone slab, Evan grinned.
Got you.
Leaping with flawless timing, he cleared the crushing trajectory by a fraction of an inch and landed squarely atop the sweeping forearm. The violent momentum threatened to fling him into the void, but Evan threw his weight flat against the stone surface, his reinforced limbs locking around the limb like a vise just as it collided with the cavern wall.
BOOM!
“Kuh…!”
By flattening himself against the limb, he weathered the bone-jarring impact that obliterated the dungeon wall around him. The colossal arm shuddered to a momentary halt against the shattered stone. Seizing the opening without hesitation, Evan pushed off the surface and sprinted straight up the arm toward the golem’s chest.
As it began to retract its limb, the golem’s optical sensors detected the intruder hurtling along its arm, its twin ocular slits flaring with intense cerulean light. To an observer, it might have seemed baffled that the intruder once pinned to the floor was suddenly racing across its own limb. With its legs still incomplete, this was his golden opportunity. Evan didn't dare look back; he simply ran with everything he had.
Yet the golem was no man—it was a machine. And a machine felt no confusion. The brief pause had merely been a momentary processing delay for an unexpected parameter. Calibrating instantly to purge the threat, its other massive arm swung down from above, sweeping straight toward Evan’s path.
Mid-sprint, Evan looked up, his face draining of color as a shadow descended from the cavern ceiling. Just a fraction of a second more and he could have unleashed his pooled sword aura to cleave the core. But he hadn't even reached striking range, and the counterattack was already crashing down. It was a reaction speed utterly devoid of human hesitation—a mechanical ruthlessness born of cold logic.
This is…! I can’t block this.
Evan realized it instantly. He had sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, but the sheer scale of the construct had betrayed him; before he could close the distance, it had spotted him and struck. At this rate, he would be crushed into paste beneath that monolithic palm…!
Evan ground his teeth.
I can’t die here…!
Whatever else happened, death was not an option. He could endure broken bones or torn flesh, but dying here would render every trial, every drop of sweat and blood, utterly meaningless. He would rather beat a shameful retreat than perish and inflict yet another wave of agony onto Aria. He refused to make her suffer for his failures ever again.
Which meant there was only one thing left to do: stop that crushing hand in its tracks.
“Hmph…!!”
Digging deep into his reserves, Evan poured every last dreg of his power into the Holy Sword.
If only… if only I had more power…
It hadn't been long since his awakening as the Hero. His repertoire was crude—little more than brute-forcing mana into the blade to fling waves of sword aura. Even its current destructive force was largely thanks to the legendary caliber of the Holy Sword itself; his own mastery of aura was still rudimentary. He could unleash such devastating slashes only because the sacred blade possessed an absurd efficiency in transmuting raw energy into divine power, amplifying his meager strength many times over.
Yet holding such a peerless weapon and achieving only this much filled him with bitter self-reproach. Even the radiant sacred power glowing in the air was beginning to flicker, guttering under his waning stamina.
Still… giving up was out of the question.
“Something like this won’t stop me…!!”
This was an opening bought by Aria’s sacrifice. An opportunity forged from her willing embrace of unspeakable agony—wringing out her very vitality to pull him back from the jaws of death when he had been helpless. If he couldn't even parry a blow like this, what was the point of ever setting foot in this place?!
Whether he would even be able to stand after taking the impact was anyone’s guess. Honestly, after expending massive waves of sword aura twice in a row, expecting to retain enough energy to shatter the golem’s core was already an exercise in wishful thinking. That was why he had to gamble. He had to unleash a broad slash at an angle that would deflect the crushing palm just enough to keep him alive, while simultaneously carving straight into the core lodged in the construct’s chest.
And the calloused instincts forged from countless hours of swinging his blade whispered the answer: This angle is true.
Now… strike!
At that exact moment, a blinding brilliance exploded before his eyes.
“…?!”
Dazzled by the sudden eruption of light, Evan whipped his head toward its source. There, standing firm—
“S-Sir Danas…?!”
A colossal shield forged of pure, radiant divine power was holding back the golem’s descending palm.
“Kh… kghhh!!”
Danas was slowly being forced to his knees beneath the crushing weight. Yet he stood resolute, grinding his molars with enough force to shatter them as he glared up at the immense hand pressing down upon his bulwark.
“The… the Saintess held back something like this…?!”
There was no margin for error. Barely three seconds had passed since impact, yet hairline fractures were already spiderwebbing across his shield. It paled in comparison to the unyielding barrier the Saintess had maintained—a golden fortress that had held firm until every last person had safely escaped.
There was no time to hesitate. No, hesitation itself was a sin. How many sacrifices had already been paid while he wasted precious seconds in stunned disbelief? Not this time. He would not squander the opening Danas had bought with his life.
“Whew…”
Evan let out a slow, steady breath. Thinking was a luxury he couldn't afford. Closing his eyes, he placed his absolute faith in the instincts honed through endless repetition. Evan raised the Holy Sword aloft.
Then—
In total silence, he swung the blade, now wreathed in a constellation of sacred starlight.
ROOOAAAR—!!
A surging tide of stars swallowed the golem whole.