The Skeleton Soldier Failed to Defend the Dungeon-Chapter 272: You Are Like Sand (13)

I lunged forward, desperate to land even a single strike. However, in the dense darkness, the monstrous presence loomed so vast that I instinctively recoiled. It wasn’t like facing the two swordmasters I had fought before. This was a different kind of pressure, a crushing weight so real that I felt my bones might crumble just from their shadow pressing down on me. Merely knowing they were there made me want to sink to the ground.

"Come now. You’ve made me wait three days. Shouldn’t you see everything I have to offer?" my enemy asked.

A deeper, virulent green darkness surged forth. A sharp, toxic mist slipped between the stone pillars, and my armor hissed as it corroded. It wasn’t even a true attack, just a careless exhalation. Yet, the Force Shield I raised crumbled instantly.

I leapt back in haste. The venom was at least ten times more concentrated than any poison I could wield.

"So, you can freely conjure a shield strong enough to block my poison miasma. How amusing."

The massive figure hidden in the dark laughed again and exhaled once more. I recognized the attack, but I couldn’t block it. I couldn’t even evade it. The range was far too wide.

Shhhhhh!

The mist shredded the upper half of my Force Shield, brushing against my helmet. Half the steel dissolved in an instant, exposing the white of my skull. Even my bones sizzled slightly, my Health dropping with the burn. My opponent wasn’t surprised in the slightest. They already knew my identity. They knew everything. The imbalance of intel was overwhelming.

"Who the hell are you?" I barked back in frustration.

Of course, there was no answer.

"Try taking this as well."

Fwoosh!

White flames bloomed in midair. There was no chant, no staff, no gathering of mana—just fire conjured from nothing. The flames twisted into coils, unraveling as they chased me.

Spell Insight.

The structure revealed itself. Each coil would detonate in sequence, one after another. If I took a single hit, it would be over.

Frost Storm...

Whooosh!

Crossing my blades in an X, I swung them forward. The first two coils froze solid, but the next three exploded in succession. The blasts rippled outward, hurling me backward into a pillar. Flames erupted on either side, searing away the cold energy clinging to my sword. The heat licked across my armor, threatening to engulf me, but I managed to hold my ground.

Sprint.

As the flames burst, the darkness parted slightly, revealing my foe. I drew forth sword energy and sprinted. A massive lower body emerged from the shadows. I seized it with Gravity Manipulation, leapt upon the still-heated stone, and slashed upward, cleaving from lower left to upper right.

"Haha... how versatile you are."

A gigantic forelimb lunged forth to guard itself.

Boom!

The swipe sent me flying. I caught myself in midair by stepping on a Force Shield and hurled myself back into the gap. My blade caught on its claws. They gleamed with a viridian energy, unnaturally sharp and unyielding. Not even my sword aura could pierce them, and the weight pressing down threatened to crush me outright.

I shifted my grip to the pommel, extending the blade just slightly. Then I angled myself and drove the sword deep between the claws.

Suction.

The thrust sank in. The massive forelimb recoiled for a moment and jerked backward. Yet, I didn't feel like I landed a fatal blow. They weren't fighting me seriously.

I leapt up again and slashed down.

"Excellent!"

My enemy treated me like a toy. Truthfully, I was under the effect of their mass suppression as every stat diminished. My limits were plain. Even at my best, my sword aura reached only half its normal size.

Crackle! Crackle! Crackle!

Where my enemy's forelimb swept, unstable currents gathered. Lightning erupted in long arcs.

I answered with my own lightning.

Lightning Wave.

Bolt clashed against bolt. The strikes barely canceled each other out, but the residual current crawled through my bones. I went numb, paralyzed for several breaths. If this became a battle of attrition, I would surely lose. I couldn’t flee. I was being driven deeper and deeper with no path forward.

"Truly... admirable."

Splotch.

As I stepped forward, a revolting dampness clung to me.

What is it?

I conjured fire to illuminate the area.

Sizzle. Crackle.

However, sparks failed to ignite at my blade’s edge.

[Pattern differs.]

[Unauthorized mana.]

What?

Snap!

I couldn’t move. A massive, sticky hand rose from the floor and seized my ankle. I tried to summon fire again to burn away the slimy hand, but nothing happened. I couldn't cast the spell.

A magic seal?

I poured strength into my legs and launched forward.

Sprint.

Shh!

Shlak!

Shrrrrrk!

Dozens of dark, wet tendrils surged up all at once, coiling around me.

[Bind.]

[Sleep.]

[Suffocate.]

[Suffer.]

[Tremble.]

[Go mad.]

[Die.]

[You resist the mental attack.]

The strength within those tendrils wasn’t mere physical power. My armor vanished without a trace, and half my Health was ripped away in an instant.

This was a battlefield with an intricate, layered web spun over ages. I had stepped straight into it.

Isaac once said, "Within his own workshop, the mage is the spider on the web."

From the heart of its domain, my enemy pressed me with one-sided force. Here, victory was impossible.

There was no point in conserving my strength.

Acid.

I let the skill flow through me. The tendrils recoiled and twitched as the acid seared them back.

"Impressive. Though... it seems you’re nearly at your limit."

No further attacks came. I staggered forward, stepping only to escape the unseen things clawing at my feet from below. It felt like I was being lured deeper from the start. If I retreated or dodged, the counterattack would only grow worse. The only way to endure each moment was to keep pressing ahead.

The more strength I showed, the more delighted my foe became. The air grew damper, and the floor beneath the darkness turned slick. It was no longer a dry, abandoned sewer.

Suddenly, light burst across every side. The old man who had led me here revealed himself, standing atop a body five meters tall.

Is this... his true form?

Four massive legs supported a monstrous frame, from which Duke Biblio’s benevolent face emerged. That legged frame resembled a serpent, but it wasn’t. Nor was it an exact image of Botis himself, as though flesh had been layered onto some other skeleton.

My attacks had not been wholly ineffective. Thin streams of dark green blood dripped down, but the monster seemed to relish it. Duke Biblio’s gentle face turned, sweeping his gaze around the chamber. The movement felt like an invitation to follow. I couldn’t help but do so.

"..."

I had witnessed cruelty and destruction countless times. I was no stranger to violence, dismemberment, or annihilation. In addition, I had seen merciless immolations, including flesh turning to ash. Duke Biblio was no ordinary man. This place was his web that he had spun over the years.

Yet still...

"What do you think of the great square beneath the capital?" Duke Biblio asked.

The vast chamber had been built from living humans, joined and joined again into one endless plaza. Boundaries blurred, and bodies fused together, painted entirely in red.

I took a guess. "Humans?"

Those grotesque holes, writhing with slurry, were faces. As though their insides had been turned out, stomachs and viscera were exposed to the open air, spewing acidic bile. Mouths warped beyond recognition gurgled and bubbled, producing a sickening chorus.

The serpent writhed proudly across the living, pulsating floor. "Yes. They are all alive. And what do you think of this tower?"

Duke Biblio pointed toward a clock tower rising at the center with a forelimb. With another limb, he wound the gear. The pendulum swayed erratically. The moment the hands crossed, black froth welled from his heart, followed by a shriek.

Screeeeech!

Duke Biblio gazed at the tower, eyes glowing with rapture. Tears welled where the second hand met, and his whole frame trembled violently. The duke looked on with pure fervor, utterly unlike his dignified face. His expression was one of a child proudly showing off his sandcastle to the crowd. Beneath the tower, there were lovers and half-corpses with hands still clasped and clinging together.

Not even in the Demon King’s era had I seen such architecture, such grotesque craft. I had only seen corpses piled high, bones heaped without meaning. I had seen corpses prepared as some twisted pastime, but every single human was still alive here.

I took another step.

How painstaking must this work have been? How deep was his obsession with the human body? To peel flesh, stitch pieces together, and keep the consciousness intact through it all...

The clock tower split wide. A cuckoo bird flapped out, crying into the square.

"Cuckoo!"

"You... did this?"

Duke Biblio only smiled. The answer to the question was too obvious.

Instead, he explained, "Child of demon blood. Gathering such power alone and surviving... admirable."

I instinctively summoned my Sword Energy to its limit, but it was useless. The serpent’s presence loomed heavier than before. From atop that vastness, he looked down, and I felt crushed beneath his gaze.

I looked up to meet Duke Biblio’s face once more.

"The serpent’s brand... wasn’t there," I commented.

For a moment, the old man’s expression shook, as though I had just told the most absurd joke. His shoulders heaved as chuckles echoed along the wet walls.

"Khahahahahahaha!"

White fangs gleamed in his mouth, and a crimson tongue far too long to be human writhed between them. Their lower body had already become that of a colossal serpent, stretching for dozens of meters.

When his laughter finally waned, the old man exclaimed, "Who would dare brand me? I am the First Priest of Boti! The perfect vessel!"

"Boti?"

"It's an affectionate name."

So, he was Botis' priest.

I had suspected as much, but to see it laid bare... Is he the true head of the Necron Society? Their sovereign? Their origin?

At last, I faced him. After thirteen deaths, fate had brought me here.

He called himself the first priest, akin to Isaac, who was Malphas' high priest. If their strength was even comparable, then I stood no chance inside his barrier.

What do I do?

I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with Botis’ vessel. He had shown no intent to kill me. Even his earlier attacks had stopped short, as he was content with toying with me. When I struck back, he only answered with pleased admiration.

Then...