Arios didn't stop walking. The forest pressed in from all sides, the branches arching overhead, thick enough to block what little light filtered through the false sky. The dungeon wasn't giving him an exit. It only wanted him to keep going, to consume his energy, to break his will through sheer, relentless attrition.

The ground was uneven now. Stones jutted out from the soil, patches of moss clinging to their sides, making the footing treacherous. His boots slid once or twice, small, involuntary movements that cost him energy, but he steadied himself, never lowering his guard. The wooden sword in his hand felt heavier than it had an hour ago, a dead weight in his weary grip, but he kept it raised, his grip tight, a refusal to surrender.

The growls came again. Familiar at first. Dire wolves, the staple fodder of this cruel test.

But as he stepped into a wider space between the trees, he noticed more. His eyes, though tired, remained sharp, cataloging the threats.

The wolves were there, yes—eight of them, circling low, their fur bristling, their red eyes burning. Behind them stood two hybrids, tall and broad, their imposing bulk a promise of brute force. But there was another shape at the back. Smaller. Its body hunched forward, skin pale, almost translucent, its eyes faintly glowing blue, not red or yellow. It held no claws, no teeth bared, only long, slender arms that dragged across the dirt. Its head twitched, turning sharply side to side as though it were listening or sensing vibrations.

Arios narrowed his eyes. "Another type. A support unit, perhaps. Something that targets the senses."

The wolves went first, as they always did, the expendable shock troops. Arios met them calmly, stepping forward into the attack instead of waiting for them to close. His blade moved with controlled precision, striking the first wolf across the neck before pivoting into the second's ribs. His boot slammed into the third, sending it tumbling aside before it could dissolve.

The others tried to circle, to flank him, but he kept rotating, cutting off their angles of attack, controlling the flow of the battle. Each strike was efficient, leaving no wasted effort, the embodiment of disciplined motion. The last two wolves dissolved almost together, leaving only the hybrids and the new pale creature.

The first hybrid lunged, its claw striking hard, a bone-jarring impact. Arios blocked, sliding back a step, absorbing the force, then twisted and cut into its side. The second came fast, a massive shadow, but Arios ducked, slamming his shoulder into its chest before finishing with a clean upward strike. Both dissolved.

That left the pale one.

It didn't rush. It stood still, twitching faintly, its head turning with unnatural speed. Then its mouth opened, and a sound poured out—high-pitched, sharp, like a ringing that stabbed at the ears, cutting through the silence of the clearing.

Arios flinched, an involuntary spasm, his grip tightening. His vision wavered for a moment, the world tilting, his balance shifting precariously.

"A disrupter. Targeting auditory and spatial awareness."

The creature twitched forward suddenly, its arms swinging wildly. Arios blocked the first strike, countered the second, but its sound kept ringing, making his head heavy, filling his skull with an agonizing pressure. He steadied his breath, forcing focus through sheer will. He struck low, cutting into its leg, then swung upward. The creature dissolved instantly, the piercing ringing fading with it, leaving a stunned silence.

Silence returned.

Arios stood still, his breathing heavy, pushing past the temporary disorientation. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes didn't leave the mist where the creature had been, committing the new threat profile to memory.

"New type. Sound attack. Not physical alone. They're stacking difficulties—physical strength, numbers, and now sensory disruption."

He adjusted his grip on the sword, then moved again, deeper into the dark heart of the illusion.

---

The forest grew stranger as he walked. The trees twisted unnaturally, their trunks bent in sharp angles, like grotesque sculptures. The air thickened, harder to breathe, heavy with the mana sustaining the illusion. His boots sank slightly into damp soil with each step, the feeling of fatigue amplified.

It wasn't long before the next wave arrived, a predictable but deadly escalation.

Six dire wolves this time. One hybrid. And two of the pale disrupters. The combination was meant to be overwhelming.

Arios steadied himself, taking his stance.

The wolves rushed in as always, a predictable prelude. Arios cut them down quickly, though his strikes were noticeably slower than before, his arms heavy and protesting. Still, he didn't falter. Each wolf dissolved in turn.

The hybrid pressed him harder, claws scraping close, forcing a lengthy exchange, but Arios countered after a sharp exchange, finishing it with a strong, desperate strike.

Then the disrupters opened their mouths together.

The ringing doubled, a deafening, piercing whine that seemed to shred the inside of his skull. His head throbbed instantly. His grip faltered for a fraction of a second. The air itself felt like it was pressing in on him, squeezing his lungs.

But Arios forced his steps forward, ignoring the pain, relying on muscle memory and sheer refusal to yield. He swung hard, cutting through the first disrupter, then pivoted and struck the second before it could move further. Both dissolved, and the agonizing ringing stopped.

He exhaled, steadying himself with one hand on his knee for a moment, a moment of necessary reprieve. His vision cleared.

"They're trying to wear me down. Wolves for speed. Hybrids for strength. Disrupters for senses. Mixing pressure. Bit by bit, eroding my control."

He straightened again, sword steady, refusing to give in to the exhaustion.

---

Time blurred in the dungeon. The sense of reality was warping.

Wave after wave came, a ceaseless, grinding assault. Wolves. Hybrids. Disrupters. Sometimes all three together, sometimes only one type. Each fight took more from him. Each pause between waves felt shorter, barely long enough to take a full breath.

His arms ached deeply. His legs were heavy, feeling like lead. Sweat ran down his back in cold rivulets. But his eyes stayed sharp, focused on the flaws in the illusion. His steps stayed steady.

At last, the forest opened again.

Another clearing. Larger than the last, and utterly silent.

Arios stepped carefully to the center, his sword raised, anticipating the final, decisive test.

The growls came again, a deep, earth-shaking sound.

But this time, it was more than just a mix. It was a final push, a concentration of all the threats.

Ten dire wolves emerged together, their forms massive. Four hybrids followed behind them, their heavy steps shaking the ground. Three disrupters stood further back, their twitching heads turning sharply, ready to unleash sonic agony.

And at the center of them all, another figure appeared, the clear, undeniable *boss* of the stage.

Taller than the hybrids. Its body bulkier, its shoulders broad, covered in dark, oily fur. Its claws longer. Its eyes glowed a deeper, furious red.

Arios adjusted his stance, lowering his center of gravity. "Greater hybrid. Again. This is Garron's maximum output."

The wolves came first, charging in formation. Arios struck them down one by one, though his movements were visibly slower, labored. Each wolf dissolved, leaving only the stronger ones.

The hybrids came next, claws swinging heavy. Arios blocked, deflected, countered, his arms straining with each impact. One by one, they dissolved, but not before forcing him back across the dirt, pushing him toward the waiting disrupters.

The disrupters opened their mouths. The ringing stabbed his ears again, a fresh wave of agony. Arios's teeth clenched, his face tight with pain, but he forced himself forward, cutting each down in turn, prioritizing the sensory threat.

That left the greater hybrid.

It roared, shaking the ground, a sound of triumph and rage. Then it charged, a mountain of illusory muscle.

The first strike slammed into Arios's guard, pushing him back three full steps. His boots dug into the dirt, fighting to hold position, but he steadied himself. The creature swung again. He ducked, pivoted, and struck across its ribs.

It roared again, swiping harder, a flurry of massive claws. Arios blocked, deflected, countered when he could, his defense razor-thin. Each exchange pushed him further, demanding the last reserves of his stamina.

Finally, as it lunged wide, a desperate opening, Arios stepped inside, his blade cutting across its jaw, then down its chest in one clean follow-up strike. The beast roared, the sound breaking into a high-pitched whine, before dissolving into a massive, heavy burst of mist.

The clearing fell silent again.

Arios stood still, his chest rising and falling heavily, a gasp for air. His arms trembled slightly, but he didn't lower his sword. He could feel the exhaustion pulling him down, but his mind was clear.

"They'll keep pushing. Until I break. But I won't. This has to be the end of the illusion's immediate physical threats."

He exhaled, steadying himself, then moved forward again, deeper into the dungeon.

---

The forest didn't end. The growls returned. Wolves. Hybrids. Disrupters. Mixed in new patterns. Stronger. Faster. Louder. The dungeon, fueled by Garron's desperation, had no end to its waves.

But Arios pressed on, his movements becoming a sustained act of defiance.

Step by step. Strike by strike. He was no longer fighting to win; he was fighting not to lose, waiting for the illusion to exhaust its master.

Until the dungeon gave him its next challenge, and he saw, faintly, through the trees, a shimmer of light that wasn't part of the illusion.

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