They didn't speak much after the fight.
The sound of breathing, dripping water, and the faint hum of mana filled the chamber like fog. The statue-creature's remains crumbled slowly, its stone shell giving way to chalk-like dust, bleeding into the cracks of the floor.
Katie sat with her back to the wall, her chest rising and falling fast. Neive was nursing a long cut on her arm, her panther summon curled tightly beside her, hackles still raised. Joey was pacing, hands still sparking faint trails of residual heat from the molten gauntlets.
Conner stood near the hallway's threshold, peering into the tunnel that had opened beyond the sealed vault. He hadn't lowered his bow yet.
The tension hadn't left his shoulders.
[Skill Scroll Acquired: Pulse Guard (F-Rank)]Taz had carefully handed it off to Luc, who sat cradling it like glass."Feels... heavy," Luc murmured."Your first scroll?" Joey asked.Luc nodded. "Didn't think I'd get one before I got a real kill."
"No such thing as clean levels in here," Katie said, not unkindly.
They gave themselves ten minutes.
Ten minutes to drink water, check gear, patch cuts, whisper fears, and breathe. Then Conner gave the signal, and they moved—down into the corridor beyond the vault.
The second floor wasn't like the first.
Where the upper hall had been cold and damp, this space was dry, warm, and wide. The walls were made of dark copper-like stone, slightly reflective. Runes moved faintly across them—not etched, but alive, like veins.
Neive stared at them. "These weren't made. They're growing."
"Growing how?" Mira asked.
"Like they're listening."
The hallway opened into a rectangular antechamber. No enemy greeted them—just silence. There was a second door ahead, closed, with two slanted windows showing only black behind them.
To the left and right, however, stood something else.
Two training dummies. Human-shaped, slightly too tall, and covered in that same dark copper material. They stood idle, arms at their sides, heads bowed.
Katie narrowed her eyes. "Decoys?"
"No," Conner said. "Testers."
Joey stepped forward cautiously, raising his arm.
The moment his boot crossed an invisible threshold, the left dummy moved.
Fast.
It didn't lurch. It stepped. Smoothly. Deliberately.
It raised its arm and launched a high-speed jab—faster than the statue had moved by a full tier.
Joey blocked it with a forearm shield, but the impact slid him back two meters, boots skidding.
"What the hell—"
The dummy dropped low and kicked out in a sweeping arc. Joey jumped, barely clearing it, landing in a stagger. The dummy didn't chase. It returned to position.
And froze.
[System Alert: Combat Initiation – Adaptive Trial Unit (Floor 2)][This opponent adjusts based on your fighting style][Optional Reward Available: Skill Scroll – RANK D+][Condition: Defeat both units without receiving critical damage]
The group looked at each other.
Luc broke the silence. "...We're in a sparring dungeon."
"No," Conner said. "We're in a gauntlet. And they're learning from us."
Conner stepped forward.
Not out of arrogance—out of necessity. The system wanted them to be tested. That meant risk. And risk, when managed, could be converted into growth.
He unslung his bow.
But he didn't nock an arrow.
He pulled his katana instead.
The dummy activated immediately. Its stance mirrored his—blade-like arms raised into a neutral middle guard.
It waited.
So did Conner.
Then they moved.
First clash—a blur of metal on metal. Conner's blade deflected the dummy's forward lunge, but the force behind the strike rattled through his arms. He stepped back, sliding across the floor, and adjusted.
The dummy didn't overcommit. It repositioned. Calculated. Watching.
A moment later, it stepped again. Left feint, low jab, upward slash—too clean. It wasn't mimicking a fighting style. It was building one.
Conner exhaled and let his footwork take over. He ducked under the third strike, stepped off center, and used the flat of his blade to redirect.
[Skill Leveled: Blade Footwork Lv. 3 → Lv. 4]
The motion flowed clean. His breathing aligned. His knees bent deeper. He let the next strike come—and then sidestepped so tight it scraped past his ribs without touch.
Slash.
He countered.
The dummy recoiled.
Not injured—but analyzing.
It stepped back and reset. This time, it struck first.
Five attacks in a chain: two body feints, a high slice, a low stab, and a spinning backhand.
Conner parried the first. Evaded the second. Blocked the third with the katana's flat. The fourth grazed his thigh. The fifth he ducked—barely.
Then he rolled.
Drew his bow in mid-motion and loosed a Phantom Arrow straight into the dummy's knee joint.
[Skill Triggered: Phantom Arrow – Delayed Shot Anchored]
He followed the path—charged forward again and struck the same joint with the katana just as the arrow hit from behind.
CRACK.
The dummy faltered.
Its balance broke. It fell to one knee.
[Opponent Status: Downed – 3 Seconds]
Conner didn't waste them.
Three quick strikes. One to the neck, one to the arm joint, the last to the chest core.
The dummy locked, sparked—and shut down.
[Optional Condition Progress – 1/2][Skill Scroll Identified: Reactive Guard (D-Rank)]
He stepped back, sweat dripping down his brow.
Everyone stared.
Joey gave a low whistle. "Well... shit."
The first dummy's wreckage still sparked faintly as Joey stepped forward. His footsteps echoed in the copper-lined chamber, heat bleeding off his body in slow spirals.
The second Adaptive Trial Unit raised its head.
Unlike the first, it didn't wait. It charged.
First Strike.
Joey barely had time to shape the metal around his arm. The dummy's punch collided with his forearm guard—pure blunt force, no finesse.
Joey slid back a full meter, but stayed standing.
"Okay," he muttered, flexing. "We're doing this."
The dummy moved again. No wasted motion. This one wasn't testing—it was dismantling. Its strikes came in calculated bursts: two to the ribs, a low kick, a follow-up elbow. Joey blocked three out of four, the last catching him in the side and knocking the wind out of him.
[Trait Reaction: Thermal Control Adaptation Triggered]Metal begins to shift more freely as internal temperature rises.
Joey grinned, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
"You hit hard."
He responded—not with brute force, but pressure. He shaped the metal around both arms, but instead of claws or spikes, he layered it in flowing, reactive plates. Like lava turned to muscle.
The dummy punched again.
Joey twisted—redirected the impact—and retaliated with a palm strike, superheating the contact point.
Sssshhhhhh.
The dummy's arm hissed as the plating steamed.
Joey spun and landed a body blow, forcing it back a step.
[New Skill Acquired: Thermal Redirection Lv. 1 (F-Rank)]Redirect 10% of physical impact through controlled heat expansion. Reduces blunt damage and destabilizes enemy structure.
"Hell yes," he breathed.
But the dummy wasn't done.
Phase Two.
It adapted.
Its stance shifted. Lower center of gravity. Arms more tightly coiled. It had learned from the first few exchanges.
The next strike wasn't a punch—it was a grapple.
It caught Joey mid-pivot and slammed him into the floor, hard. The group flinched. Katie stepped forward.
"Don't," Conner said. "He's not done yet."
Pinned beneath it, Joey growled. The dummy raised an arm for a strike.
He didn't panic.
He pulsed his Trait—metal burst outward in a sudden bloom, like molten glass flaring wide.
The dummy staggered.
Joey rolled free, pushed to one knee, and raised a palm.
"Not this time."
[Skill Triggered: Thermo Sculpting – Focus Point Cast]
A single needle of superheated metal burst from his palm—small, dense, fast.
It embedded directly under the dummy's armpit, right at the joint.
The machine staggered.
Joey stood.
Drew his arm back.
Then, with a yell, punched through the exposed chest plate.
Crack. Fissure. Collapse.
The dummy dropped to its knees, then fell still.
[Adaptive Trial Complete: Optional Condition Achieved][Skill Scroll Earned: Iron Pulse Armor (D-Rank)]A reactive layer of hardened mana-infused steel surges over the body upon receiving lethal damage. One-time activation per battle. Cooldown: 10 minutes.
Joey stood over the wreckage, breathing hard.
No fist-pump. No cocky grin. Just sweat and silence.
Katie stepped beside him. "You okay?"
He nodded. "Getting better."
Neive crossed her arms. "That was way too close."
"Close counts," Joey muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
Conner approached, eye narrowed. "You got the scroll?"
Joey held it up. "Defence type."
Conner's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then use it. We're only two floors in."
They regrouped at the next threshold. The door was different—etched not in copper, but deep black stone. At its centre: a symbol none of them had seen before.
A circle.
Inside it, a mirrored version of the same circle.
Neive stared at it. "That's not System tech."
"No," Conner murmured. "It's older."
From behind, Taz said quietly, "We're not just going deeper…"
"…we're going backward," Conner finished.