INSIDE THE SILVER SPIRE

He stood within a vast spherical chamber, a massive hollow interior that stretched endlessly in every direction yet curved back into itself. There was no natural terrain here. No rocks, no beasts, no poison.

Just obsidian-black metallic walls lined with faint runic inscriptions that glowed with a ghostly silver light. The architecture was ancient but precise. Emotionless. Constructed.

Floating pillars of silver ore drifted in slow orbits around the chamber like broken fragments of a ruined temple. Chains etched with ancient runes hung suspended across open air, as though once used to restrain something terrible.

Xavier's eyes narrowed.

"This is not a normal dungeon."

He lifted a hand, feeling the mana. It was controlled. Refined. Artificial even. Far too organized for beast territory.

This was a sealed domain.

Then something caught his attention.

At the far end of the chamber stood a massive rectangular door sealed by seven metal locks. Above it, carved into the wall in a language older than Velmora, was a crest:

A sword plunged through a silver moon.

His expression sharpened.

"Luna's Crest. The Moon Goddess' symbol. Why here?"

Before he could think deeper—

Swoooosh!

A streak of steel flashed through the air.

Xavier's instincts screamed. His body twisted instantly.

KRRRSSSH!

A blade sliced through the space he had stood a split second before, so sharp it left a clean tear suspended in the air, like reality itself had been cut.

He landed in a slide and raised a dagger, eyes narrowing.

Something had attacked him.

Something fast.

Clank.

A figure appeared ten meters away, materializing from thin air.

Humanoid in shape, but not human.

It was clad in a tarnished silver suit of armor, tall and imposing. Its helmet was perfectly smooth, featureless, with only a single thin slit of silver energy where eyes should be. In its hand, it carried a long silver greatsword engraved with glowing runes that pulsed brighter with every breath.

A Knight-type entity.

No. A sentinel construct.

Not beast. Not undead. Not living.

Created.

Reforged from pure mana and ancient metal.

A Knight Guardian.

"So that is what you are," Xavier muttered.

The construct tilted its head as if assessing him. Then without warning, it vanished.

Swoosh!

Xavier reacted instantly.

CLANG!

Their blades collided in a burst of sparks. The impact traveled down Xavier's arm like a shockwave. Its raw force was insane. He was forced back three steps before regaining footing.

The knight stood still, sword resting at its side. No stance. No posture. No emotion.

A single floating system text appeared before him.

[Dungeon Knight: Silver Knight of the Spire]

Rank: A+

Type: Divine Construct

Status: Active – Execution Protocol Engaged

Xavier's eyebrow twitched.

He rolled his shoulders, aura already rising again.

The Silver Knight raised its sword.

No words. No battle cry.

Just pure intent to kill.

Xavier smirked.

"Fine then. Come."

The Silver Knight did not hesitate.

BANG!

It was on him instantly. No wasted motion. No roar. No emotion. Just pure killing efficiency. Its strike came down like execution, a precise vertical cut designed to split him from skull to spine. Xavier met it with crossed daggers.

CLANG!

The impact shook his bones. The force behind that blade was monstrous, its weight impossible for something that moved so fast.

Before he could fully absorb the shock, the knight twisted, blade rotating with mechanical precision as it transitioned into a sweeping horizontal strike meant to decapitate him in one motion.

Xavier ducked low. Silver wind shredded the air just inches above his head.

Fast. Strong. Cold. Calculated.

This was not like fighting beasts that relied on instinct or overwhelming power. This thing fought with structured swordsmanship. Perfect form. Perfect efficiency. No hesitation. No openings.

It struck again—sharp bursts of sword swings—each flowing into the next. Xavier blocked one, parried two, deflected the fourth, but the fifth grazed his ribs, ripping a line across his side.

He leapt back, skidding across the floating fragments of silver stone.

He exhaled slowly. A controlled breath.

"Good blade work. But…"

He vanished.

He reappeared behind it, dagger flashing for a throat kill.

KCHANG!

Its off-hand snapped up, stopping his strike with an armored gauntlet. No delay. No panic. Just reaction speed beyond human limits.

The knight spun, its elbow hammering toward him.

Xavier caught the strike with his forearm, Moonshield flaring for an instant.

Then he was airborne. A brutal kick launched him across the chamber.

He twisted mid-air and landed gracefully, but his boots cracked the obsidian floor beneath him.

He smirked slightly.

"You are strong, but I am harder to kill."

The Silver Knight dashed again, silent and relentless.

Xavier met it head-on.

---

Their fight intensified. No wasted movement. No flashy spells. Pure combat.

Where beasts fought with rage, this construct fought with perfect discipline—relentless and suffocating. The tempo rose fast, too fast for the eye to track.

Clang. Clang. Clang-clang-clang!

Daggers carved crescent arcs around him as Xavier deflected blow after blow. Sparks burst like fireworks. Steel screamed against steel. The chamber trembled beneath their feet.

The knight swung in a controlled sequence. Downward Kill. Cross Blade. Reverse Thrust. Riposte. Each move came from an elite knight handbook.

It was like fighting a grandmaster swordsman that did not get tired, did not hesitate, did not fear death.

Xavier pressed harder, using speed, angles, and feints. But every attempt was blocked or read. The knight did not predict, it processed. It adapted instantly.

He sidestepped a sword thrust and slashed at its throat joint, but his dagger hit nothing. Only a hollow metallic echo.

CLANG.

He blinked.

Hollow?

He cut across the chest. No resistance. Nothing spilled out. No organs. No mana core.

The Silver Knight was completely empty inside. A walking shell.

His eyes narrowed.

"No life. No heart. No core. That means physical damage…"

He parried another strike, spun under a slash, kicked off a drifting stone pillar.

"…is useless."

The knight advanced. Another swing. Xavier blocked and slid across the metal floor, boots sparking.

He was not frustrated.

He was excited.

"Fine. No heart to stab. Then I will break you another way."

But before he could test another approach—

Swoosh.

He sensed them before he saw them—blurs shifting in the shadows above.

He jumped back, moonlight flashing around him.

CLANG!

Two more Silver Knights landed beside the first.

And then another stepped out of the mist.

Then two more.

Then five.

One after another—emerging from silver doors etched into the chamber walls—whole squads of them.

Four.

Six.

Ten.

Each one identical. Each one armed. Each one radiating cold execution intent.

A formation unit. A Silver Execution Squad.

Xavier stared at them and slowly smiled.

"So this is how it is. Good."

He brought his dagger into stance.

The temperature in the chamber seemed to drop as killing intent thickened between him and the knight squad.

No words were exchanged.

There was no need.

They moved.

The fight did not just escalate.

It erupted.

---

The knights attacked in formation, moving as one like a perfectly synchronized machine.

Three engaged him directly.

Four controlled movement, cutting off angles.

Three more waited behind, silent executioners ready to strike when he made a mistake.

Xavier flowed like a storm of silver. He ducked a greatsword, flicked a wrist, slammed a dagger into a chest plate—no effect. He kicked one into another—no effect. He shattered a helmet—nothing inside.

They were immune to killing blows.

Fine.

He switched styles immediately.

His dagger became a tool of deflection, control, and leverage.

He redirected attacks, smashing knights into each other.

He moved with brutal surgical precision, slamming blades into joints, targeting balance points, using his Moon Aura to amplify momentum.

He jumped, spun mid-air, and kicked a knight in the exposed inner joint of the ankle, sending it crashing sideways into two others.

The knights had strength.

But he had mastery.

Still, they came. Endless and cold.

Their blades met his, and sparks filled the silent world like falling stars.

Yet even as he fought—he analyzed.

They are constructs. Armor animated by something. But no mana cores inside—so what powers them?

He deflected a sword thrust and circled sideways. Strikes came at him from six directions now.

He blocked. Redirected. Dodged.

Their movements were perfect. Too perfect. No wasted motion. No fluctuation in intent. That meant—

He parried again, moon aura rippling.

—somebody was controlling them.

A lord.

A master.

A higher presence.

And he knew where it was.

That sealed gate at the end of the chamber.

As he launched another knight into two others with a brutal moon-fueled kick, realization burned through him.

"You are not the boss, are you?"

His eyes locked on the sealed gate.

"You are just guards."

He grinned savagely, dodged three more blades, and then vanished.

Silver energy burst across the room like a flaring comet trail.

He reappeared high above the squad, eyes blazing.

"In that case…"

He hurled himself downward like a falling star, dagger glowing violently.

"…I will force your master to come out!"

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