Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler-Chapter 48: [Roots of Dominion 7] - The Apostate Swarm

The corridor narrowed after Zavalei’s chamber, the air thick with mist and the after-echoes of fading mantras. Every footstep drummed against the damp root floor, reverberating through unseen chambers ahead. Raven moved first, cloak damp with sweat, chain slack in his grip but ready.

The Vault wasn’t done yet.

Their path curved into a new chamber—broad, open, and lit by faint blue veins pulsing under the root-strangled stone. Raven paused at the threshold, raising one hand. "Hold."

Ten figures emerged from the far end. Bark-armored silhouettes. Silent. Root-Kin Apostates.

He narrowed his eyes. "Apostate swarm. Every time one drops, the rest get faster. We turtle up or control hard. We can’t brute force this."

Duskrunner growled. Phantom Seer flicked into the shadows, illusions already forming. Ironbark Seneschal stepped forward, bark arms humming with low resonance.

"Seneschal, lock the zone. First pulse, Root Trial Lattice. Keep them rooted."

The ground beneath the Apostates pulsed. Then: vines erupted upward.

Root Trial Lattice Activated

The Apostates froze, snarling silently as the stun locked half their group. The others surged forward, faster now. Their speed increased.

Desperate Growth x1

"Seer, scatter Mirage! Buy visual clutter!"

Phantom Seer spun outwards, ghostly shadows dancing between charging Apostates. The front line slammed through illusions, swinging at air. Duskrunner lunged from the side, claws slashing two down in a blink.

Desperate Growth x3

"We’re pushing them too fast," Raven muttered. "Seneschal, drop Rite of the Root. Deny buffs. Let them stay vulnerable."

A green aura surged. The Apostates’ already simple tactics turned erratic—no outside buffs meant no reinforcement scripts.

Raven darted behind one, slamming his chain forward.

Dominion Chain – Successful Hit

The Apostate staggered, turned on its own.

Desperate Growth x6

"Finish it now!" he barked.

Duskrunner activated Alpha’s Wrath, speed and aggression rising with every second. Illusions boxed in the Apostates while the Seneschal re-rooted the outer edge.

The ground cracked beneath them—an unexpected rupture sent out a molten pulse, briefly lighting the edge of the chamber and singeing one of the Apostates as it tried to retreat.

It ended in a scatter of cracked bark and hissing sap.

Silence.

Raven didn’t move. His eyes were already scanning the next archway.

"Voices next. They’ll be embedded. Casters. Psychic-based."

They advanced.

The next space was narrow and choked in shadows. Strange wet sounds echoed from the walls. Raven saw them before anyone else.

A row of shapes, half-melded into the bark. Rootbound torsos with wide-open mouths. Chanting.

"Chorus of Barked Voices," he said. "Every ten seconds they pulse. If not silenced, they’ll tag us with Reverberation. Delayed psychic bombs."

He raised a hand. "We handle this clean."

He flung Abyssal Corruption at the far-left caster. The zone erupted in cursed energy.

Rootwarden’s Cycle Triggered

A ring of AoE stun radiated out. Three voices stalled mid-chant.

"That’s our opener! Go!"

Phantom Seer leapt across the field, using Mind Shatter on the center caster, staggering it.

Duskrunner phased forward using Shadow Shift, appearing behind a target and mauling the spine. Raven moved clockwise, keeping his chain in motion.

One voice managed to finish a chant.

Reverberation Triggered

The air around Raven shimmered.

He stopped all movement.

A blast of invisible force struck where he would have dodged.

"They’re syncing with prediction code," he muttered. "Track movement history."

The team moved in sync.

Rootwarden Stun triggered again.

Casters fell silent.

They regrouped. Raven turned toward the next hall.

Then the floor pulsed.

Roots groaned, splitting open.

From the far end, six Root-Kin Apostates spilled forth—a second wave, faster than the last.

"Another swarm. They’ve recycled the pattern," Phantom Seer warned.

This group didn’t hesitate—they struck with purpose.

Two flanked the wall, skittering along root strands like spiders. Duskrunner howled and leapt to intercept.

The third sprinted at Raven. He ducked, then hurled his chain like a javelin—catching it mid-chest. It reeled, but didn’t stop.

He yanked, redirecting its charge, and flipped himself up using the tension—landing on its back, chain looped around its throat.

Ironbark Seneschal activated Rite of the Bloomed Husk, roots blooming in a burst from the floor, impaling one Apostate through the torso.

Duskrunner barreled into the wall-walkers, tackling one off the side path.

Phantom Seer’s illusions boxed the last two, baiting them into a trap where root snares coiled around their limbs.

Raven slid down the back of the last Apostate, both chain edges flashing like daggers.

Bark cracked. Sap sprayed.

Silence again.

Duskrunner panted beside him, flanks heaving. Phantom Seer twitched, illusions flickering like dying stars.

Raven stayed still for a breath, watching the roots pulse slowly in the dark. This Vault wasn’t just throwing enemies.

It was pacing them. Wearing them down.

Then—

The ceiling groaned. A section of root above broke open, spilling down a cascade of sludge and glowing spores. One burst mid-air—igniting briefly in contact with the chain’s energy.

Raven ducked under a flaming root and rolled clear. One Apostate wasn’t so lucky—it slipped and caught fire, staggering backward into a wall where thorns impaled it.

Silence again.

The corridor narrowed again, roots hanging like ribs from the ceiling. The air pulsed gently, like breath. The floor was soft, too soft—each step felt like walking on a heartbeat. Water dripped from above, but no ceiling was visible—just tangles of root-dark.

From ahead, they heard it. Growling. Wet bone cracks. Movement.

Then came the burst.

Three beasts broke from bark cocoons ahead, snarling and slavering.

--Husk Beast--

Mob Type: Mini-Elite

Role: Brute Enforcer

Abilities:

Thorn Slam: Area knockback with high physical damage.

Pulsegut Bellow: Short stun followed by a defense buff.

Vine-Leech Hide: Heals a portion of damage taken if the attacker is snared.

"Engage sharp. Don’t get caught snared," Raven said.

The first Husk Beast lunged, Thorn Slam hitting wide—Phantom Seer was flung across the corridor, tumbling through roots.

The second Pulsegut Bellowed, stunning Duskrunner for a flash. The hallway shook as a vein burst beneath one of the beasts, steam billowing out to obscure visibility.

The third charged Raven.

He rolled sideways, slinging his chain skyward. It caught the arch above. He yanked hard—launching himself in a swift arc—and landed behind the beast. A flick of the wrist, and the chain snapped outward in a javelin curve.

Dominion Chain: Connected.

The edge struck deep. Raven pulled, drawing the chain taut across the beast’s neck. It thrashed, but he drove his knee into its spine and twisted—the jagged blade biting in with every angle.

Duskrunner recovered, dashed across, and drove claws into the stunned beast.

Phantom Seer phased through a wall and tricked the third into chasing an illusion. It walked directly into a root snare, which bloomed and coiled upward, wrapping the legs.

Raven lunged, holding the chain like twin daggers now—slashing with both ends. The beast dropped.

It didn’t take long.

The beasts fell.

Their breath returned. The corridor widened.

They approached the final door.

Roots split around a heavy door, carved with overlapping runes and spiraled mantras. Water trickled around the frame, forming black pools at the edge of the floor.

No spell spoken. No key required.

The roots just moved.

As if they knew.

Duskrunner growled low. "It knows us."

Raven nodded. "We’re expected."

They stepped through.

Beyond the door was silence.

A narrow bridge extended across the vast dark—a chasm with no bottom, only pulsing root walls and moving water that crept up instead of falling down. The bridge itself trembled faintly with every breath Raven took.

Phantom Seer tilted its head. "The mirror’s behind us now."

Raven didn’t reply. He walked, slow, deliberate.

Duskrunner scraped the stone once. Twice. The sound echoed, then echoed again, faintly delayed. A third time—a soft whisper, almost like mimicry.

Each step across the bridge triggered strange pulses beneath their feet. The roots glowed brighter, then dimmed in opposite rhythm. Water beneath them shimmered unnaturally—reflections twisted as if the space beneath mirrored not their bodies, but their intentions.

Raven paused. Turned his head slowly.

Behind them, the wall shimmered—mimicking his motion with just a delay. The effect was precise. Clinical.

"It’s not watching us," he said. "It’s rehearsing us."

Duskrunner began circling tighter as they crossed, his fur bristling. He paced on Raven’s left instead of the front now—an instinctive shield. Then paused. He growled low toward the dark reflection under the bridge.

"Something’s wrong with the roots," the wolf murmured.

At the bridge’s edge, Phantom Seer whispered, "It’s rewriting the arena for us."

They reached the platform.

Water curled around the arena’s center like a moat, feeding into long, cracked runes that spiraled toward the core.

[Dungeon Event Triggered – Sanctum of the Hollow Bloom]

Final Trial: Root-Soul Ascendant

"Survival alone is not growth."

The voice didn’t come from the air.

It came from beneath.

The arena floor cracked.

Roots peeled apart like lungs gasping after too long buried.

A figure rose.

Not summoned. Grown.

Black roots threaded together limbs, torso, and the hollow mockery of a face—one that shifted between priest, beast, and stranger.

Its chest flickered.

Not with a heart.

With trapped whispers.

Layered mantras. Spoken in reverse. Prayers twisted into hunger.

The walls convulsed. Water pooled upward, not downward.

The arena dimmed. Every rune blinked out, like stars swallowed by breath.

Then pressure hit.

Not sound. Not heat.

Weight.

A force like guilt. Like memory.

Phantom Seer whispered, "It does not hate us... it envies."

The Root-Soul Ascendant didn’t speak.

It simply opened its arms.

And the Vault itself braced.

It was starving.

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