Clang...
The sound of something breaking rang out, not the usual clatter of falling metal, but more like a slow funeral bell, tolling to herald the beginning of an ancient ritual...
...a ritual none of them had ever heard of, yet each of them could feel, clearly, that it had never truly stopped.
The gold coins shattered, scattering across the cold stone floor, then peeled away in layers from the massive decaying body like a rotting husk, empty, soulless, nothing left but a façade of glory, wrapped tightly around a lie.
The air inside the chamber thickened, heavy with the scent of burning metal, golden dust, and the breath of a death not yet born.
As if this was no longer merely a treasure room, but the throat of some vast beast slowly swallowing its intruders, second by second.
Ren hadn't stood up yet.
He didn't need willpower or instinct to realize it, his eyes were already locked, drawn uncontrollably toward what was rising from the ashes of gold.
A shape. A figure. A... "person"?
No. Not a person. Not quite. Not possibly.
A creation, as though born not to exist, but to mimic something that once was human.
An imitation... so twisted it had lost all semblance of truth. A malformed existence where right and wrong no longer held meaning.
Four arms slowly lifted, each gripping a sword of unrecognizable form, as if they had just been drawn from the very core of a screaming forge, each blade still dripping with a dark crimson light like molten blood.
Its body was wrapped in a smooth, mirror-like skin of metal, not the rugged gilded armor from before, but something alive, wet and flexible, flowing with each subtle movement like a mass of breathing mercury, newly born from some hidden womb deep within the lowest levels of hell.
And then...
As the light slanted across its form, Ren saw... the face. No. Not a face.
Just a flat surface. A golden mirror, shining, horrifyingly perfect. No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no expression.
Just reflection. Just a copy of whoever stood before it.
Only absolute silence. And in that silence... something more terrifying than any scream.
Copper swallowed hard, though his throat was so dry that every movement felt like it tore the skin inside.
"This is... phase two...?"
He asked, but waited for no answer. His voice came out as though even he couldn't believe he was still able to speak.
Ren slowly rose.
He was still gripping his sword, but he hadn't noticed until now, its blade had gone so cold it was numbing his hands.
His eyes, reflected in that faceless mirror... only saw himself.
A distorted duplicate, blurred, broken, and reflected back by something that had long since lost its meaning.
The air hissed, thin, soft, like a final breath before a blade kissed the throat.
Just a blink.
One blink...
And the creature, that strange entity with a mirrored body, four arms, and no face, suddenly blurred, becoming a shadow, so faint it could barely be seen, yet its presence gripped Ren's spine with a fear more real than anything visible.
The sealed chamber tore open with a wind too soft to lift even a strand of hair... yet enough to set every nerve in Ren's body on fire.
It felt like an invisible blade brushed against his skin, touching every nerve ending, awakening something ancient within, the purest instinct to survive.
His body raised the sword on its own, instinctively, before his mind could issue the command, just in time for...
A massive, silent force, merciless as a steel wall moving at unseen speed, slammed into him.
He was flung backward, drawing a crooked arc through the air, crashing hard onto the icy ground, rolling through scattered gold coins before landing face-down, the world spinning above him.
–233
A red number flared across his system UI like blood seeping through a crack.
[HP: 422 / 700]
Ren hissed between his teeth. His throat burned dry, his gut felt crushed, his ribs ached so much he could barely sense his own breathing.
Not a fatal blow...but just one impact like that...
He understood.
If he had been one second slower, he wouldn't still be breathing.
Copper swallowed a hard gulp of air, his throat parched not from thirst...
But from fear.
Not fear of death, not some shallow trembling. But that primal terror screaming from the depths of the spine, forcing him to stare at the creature before them and admit.
This thing was beyond anything he had ever known.
Too fast...
His body reacted before the thought even fully formed in his head. His hand clenched the hilt of his sword. He didn't wait. Didn't calculate. There was only one option left...
Attack first.
Copper charged forward like a living arrow, his steps so light they made no sound.
The silver-bladed sword sliced through the air, tracing a cold crescent moon in the darkness, steel gleaming as it spun, a brilliant flash amidst the golden tempest.
A sound rang out like a broken bell. Sparks flared, radiant, then gone.
The attack was blocked.
One of the mirrored creature's four arms lifted its sword, no wasted motion, cleanly intercepting the slash.
The remaining three swords didn't wait. They swung in unison from three different directions:
From above, from the left flank, and one thrusting upward from below.
A death cage closed in with terrifying speed.
"Damn it..!" Copper gritted his teeth and leapt back, so fast that his coat sliced the air.
Even as he withdrew, the creature was already advancing, not on legs, but gliding over the ground, its body following the path carved by the swing of its blade.
Four swords, entwined like a storm. A storm with no breath. No pause. No humanity.
Steel clashed against steel in rapid succession, sparks flashing wildly.
One... two... three... six... twelve... uncountable.
Each time Copper retreated a step, three more strikes closed in from different angles. The speed was beyond visible comprehension.
All his strength was poured into the arm holding his sword. Every block was a full-bodied effort, a desperate step back toward the edge of death. Joints strained, muscles screamed.
And then...
"Ren!!" he shouted, voice cracking like a scream crushed in his throat. "Stop standing there!! If you don't... I'm going to die!!"
A silhouette sliced the air and shot toward the creature, Ren's blade pierced into its back, throwing off its attack rhythm for just a moment.
The steel blade didn't plunge deep, but it was enough, to interrupt the flow.
Instantly, two of the four swords separated, no hesitation, no recalibration, reacting like instinct.
Ren leaned slightly, dodging the first strike, its tip skimmed past his face, tearing through air.
The second sword followed almost immediately.
He twisted his body, wrist snapping to deflect it by instinct, an angled parry knocked the blade off-course, and a shriek of metal against metal rang out, sharp and cold as steel scraping stone.
Sparks flew. Shards rained down on Ren's chestplate like metallic dust.
By then, Copper had also slipped out of the attack sequence.
He backstepped, gasping for breath, hurriedly opened his inventory and gulped down a healing potion, his hand still trembling from the shock that had traveled from blade to shoulder.
"We can't win this… We need to find a way to escape…" he said, voice breaking between ragged breaths, eyes narrowed with unease he couldn't conceal.
Ren nodded. He understood. Clearly. But...
There was no way out.
No blind spots.
Every direction was sliced apart by the spinning blades.
The two split up, each forcing themselves to confront two arms, trying to tear this nightmare into manageable parts.
But... nothing changed.
Even with only two swords facing each of them, it felt like being surrounded by dozens of simultaneous attacks.
No repetition.
No stumbles.
The creature's rhythm held no traces of instinct, but followed the shape of an equation, coldly perfect.
Every movement seemed pre-programmed.
It wasn't fighting with brute force, but with precision, consistency, and suffocating pressure.
Each motion, each strike, every sword swing was a step in a rising symphony of destruction,a flawless simulation of the art of killing.
Ren clenched his teeth, feeling the slicing wind whistle past his ears, the blade grazing his armored skin, leaving nearly invisible cracks...
A reminder.
A punishment for daring to believe he had grown strong enough to overcome fear.
A mirror, not just of shape, but of the gap between belief and reality.
Shoving aside the opposing blade, Ren dropped his center of gravity, his heels skidding hard over the stone, then launched forward like an arrow tearing the wind.
His field of vision narrowed to a single point: his own reflection on the creature's mirrored chest, where light shimmered with a strange pulse, like a heartbeat beneath steel.
At the same time, Copper leapt into the air, locking three swords into a vortex of defensive counters, his eyes gleaming with feral light.
Ren didn't hesitate. His blade spiraled forward, carving a diagonal arc from shoulder to waist, sparks flared like fragments of a shattered sun.
The creature recoiled, just one step...but it was enough to create an opening.
"Now!" Ren shouted.
Copper understood instantly.
No hesitation. He kicked off the air, his body spinning in a fluid arc like a crimson ribbon in the dark.
Light surged from his blade like a roaring flame, a high-level sword skill, "Blood Spiral."
He nearly vanished from view, leaving only a burning red blur, and in the next instant, he was right beside the creature.
A flick of the wrist. A downward slash. A reverse sweep.
Two blazing arcs of hellfire sliced across the creature's chest.
But it didn't step back.
No scream. No cry of pain.
It simply tilted its head, as if "registering" the strikes.
And then... its whole body moved.
All four swords rose at once. No known rhythm. Not an attack, but a counter.
A sequence no longer mimicking, but surpassing the original pattern.
It was the sword skill... "Blood Spiral."
Ren and Copper were both forced to retreat.