Top-Level Extra: Lord of Adaptation

All the Descents fell back abruptly. Dane hit the ground hard, his ankles striking the unforgiving Demonsteel chain.

Pain shot through him, sharp and searing, like a fracture.

The chain was infamous for its lethality, capable of cracking open the skulls of Gloaming-ranked shores.

Fear coursed through them, thick and overwhelming.

They all stared at the fate-deciding brick.

Suddenly, the brick shattered into tiny fragments, obliterated by the swift strike of the battling Enshire's blade.

"Such a pity your fellows have all perished as grim examples of the terror in this realm," the Enshire mused. "This brick is one of many deadly and mysterious creations wrought by the Stream of Darkness. We are drawing near. Shortly after passing the forest, we shall arrive," the whip-wielding enshire said in a light tone.

The Descents regarded the chattering silhouette, perplexed.

What did it mean?

Its tone was light-hearted, devoid of pity or remorse.

Dane translated once more.

After a moment of contemplation, carefully choosing his words, he relayed the Enshire's added message.

"It also said we will continue through the black forest. There is a small mountain beyond that we must ascend, and after that, we will cross the Stream of Darkness, the source of these deadly phenomena."

They gazed at the still whip-wielder, their expressions wavered between doubt and reluctant acceptance.

Yet remaining outside was equally perilous.

Retreating…?

But to where?

Another certain death awaited, of course.

Their eyes turned towards the forest—an endless stretch of dark, eternal blackness. It was eerily silent, sending chills down their spines.

'I hope these dead-looking trees can talk... It would be amusing to converse with a deadly form of nature.'

Moments later, they were trudging through the forest. Grey fog shrouded their legs, their heads swivelling from side to side, anticipating any threat.

Shadows flickered, appearing abnormal.

Seemingly alive…

The short imbecile, however, fixated on a singular thought: to kill Dane.

He wondered how Dane managed to translate the Enshires' words accurately.

He was unsure if it was correct, but it seemed to resonate.

During his own time with the Enshires, he had lied, providing false translations that earned them lashes repeatedly.

Lost in rigid formation and fear, the battling Enshire led from the front, while the malevolent one lingered at their rear, poised to lash them once more.

Suddenly, a creaking sound echoed through the forest, followed by the sharp snap of a twig.

One of the trees seemed to lean forward, sending a wave of unease through the Descents.

Yet Dane's thoughts drifted elsewhere.

'Argh. When are we going to get there? I can't bear this oppressive eeriness.'

He exhaled heavily.

Looking up, a shiver ran down his spine—he was no longer among the caravan.

They had vanished.

Yet the chains binding his wrists and ankles remained, their length trailing into the darkness.

"Huh?"

Then, a familiar voice resonated in his mind:

...

[Escape the darkness. The Seeker's mind has been swallowed by the depths of the Black Forest.]

[Countdown: Nine minutes.]

...

A rhythmic ticking echoed within his head.

"What's happening?"

He took a cautious step back, the chains rattling against the ground. His instincts sharpened.

In the distance, beyond the shadows, a path emerged—the chains stretched towards it.

Dane hesitated at first, then followed later on, taking the left turn where the chains led.

He dared not sever his bonds, fearing he would lose his way entirely.

And time was against him.

Though the details eluded him, one certainty remained—when the final tick struck, it would spell his end.

He quickened his pace, pushing past the thorn-ridden branches of the skeletal trees, moving with purpose.

Without warning, a blur of motion erupted from the darkness.

A creature lunged at him.

Dane's reflexes ignited. He twisted away, narrowly evading its strike, but the force of his movement sent him crashing to the ground.

Gasping, he scrambled to his feet, his breaths ragged. His eyes darted around, finding nothing.

The creature was gone.

But he had seen something.

A glimpse.

Six monstrous, spider-like claws, poised to impale him. Its form was vast, grotesque, at least four feet tall—akin to an enormous arachnid dredged from the abyss.

And still, he dared not break the chains. If he lost them, he lost his only tether to the caravan.

Perhaps they too were trapped in a similar nightmare.

One thing became clear—the message had warned him.

His mind had been consumed by the Black Forest's darkness.

A theory formed. If his mind was trapped here in the darkness, then somewhere, his body still remained.

If he reached the end of these chains, perhaps he could reunite with it.

But time was slipping away.

Five minutes left.

Now was not the moment to battle a Shore.

If his assumption was correct, the creature belonged to the Ruinborn rank—intelligent enough to strike once, vanish, and wait for the opportune moment to attack again.

That was their nature.

Dane swallowed his unease. He took a cautious step back. Then another.

No attack came.

Taking the chance, he turned back towards the chains and pressed forward.

But then, a sound cut through the silence...

"Just keep moving." Dane told himself, striding forward, his palm outstretched, ready to summon the Creed Blade the moment the Shore emerged.

As expected, it struck.

Launching from a tree, it hurtled towards him. Dane sidestepped, allowing it to crash into the ground.

Without hesitation, he summoned the blade and drove it downward, aiming to pin the creature in place.

But it was faster than he anticipated.

Its claws extended with unnatural speed, reaching for his throat.

He barely evaded, twisting away at the last moment.

The force of the manoeuvre, combined with his sheer strength, pulled against the chains.

With a sharp metallic snap, they shattered.

The links clattered against the ground.

Then, as though consumed by the abyss itself, the darkness began to swallow them whole.

"No!"