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墨書 Inktalez
He suppressed the various thoughts in his mind and refocused his gaze on the path ahead. He knew that within the Spire, there could be no relaxation at any moment; each level could present unprecedented dangers. Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, he stepped onto the stairs leading to the next level.
As he descended deeper, a wave of heat rolled up from the depths of the staircase, causing him to furrow his brow. This sensation of heat was not unfamiliar; he had experienced it during his previous climbs. Whenever he felt this heat, it meant that a serious battle awaited him. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm in the face of the impending unknown. His heart was inevitably a bit tense, but more than that, he felt an anticipation for the test of strength that lay ahead.
As he drew closer, the wave of heat intensified. He could clearly sense that this was not just an ordinary heatwave, but one infused with a strong aura of danger. Every one of his senses warned him of an undeniable threat ahead. However, he also knew there was no way back; he could only move forward, continuing to challenge himself until he reached the top of the Spire.
He arrived at the entrance of the staircase, paused briefly to take a deep breath, and then slowly descended the stairs. Ironclad entered a spacious square chamber that was completely empty. As Ironclad stepped into this mysterious space, he could feel the surrounding air becoming increasingly heated, each breath carrying a hint of scorching warmth. The abnormal temperature of the space made him even more alert. His eyes were fixed on the giant octagonal stone in the center, his mind racing with speculations about its origin and purpose.
Ironclad cautiously approached, his steps tense and deliberate. Each step tested the ground's stability, careful not to trigger any unknown mechanisms. This spire was filled with uncertainty and danger, with every corner potentially hiding a lethal threat.
Ironclad moved slowly but steadily toward the ominous octagonal stone. His gaze was resolute, yet the vigilance and unease in his heart were unmistakable. The surface of the massive stone was riddled with deep damage and cracks, as if it had endured countless wars and storms, each fissure seemingly eager to tell its story. However, what filled him with greater dread was the eerie sound emanating from deep within the stone.
He could feel that in the deathly silence, only the eerie sound echoed. The sound was faint and continuous, perhaps imperceptible in any other setting. But now, every note pierced his ears sharply, weighing heavily on his mood.
Gripping the sword tightly, he cautiously brought his ear closer to the stone, trying to discern the source of the sound. However, when he finally made out the sound, he couldn't help but be shocked. It was the screams of a person, waves of fear and despair reverberating in this confined space, seemingly trying to pull him into bottomless terror. His heart suddenly tightened, and he immediately jumped back a distance.
Just as he jumped away, the color of the stone suddenly turned deep purple and began to heat up rapidly. Its color became more abrupt in the dark space, and the purple-red light illuminated everything around, dyeing the room a bloody color. Before long, the stone slowly began to float, rising higher and higher from the ground, seemingly driven by some mysterious force. He immediately became alert, his body tensing in preparation for potential danger.
As the stone rose, the eerie screams seemed to become clearer and more piercing. Each echo sent a chill through his heart, as if countless souls were whispering in his ear, trying to tell him some unknowable secret. He knew that this space concealed some unknown horror, and he might be about to face an unfamiliar challenge.
Deep within the Spire, every moment is filled with the unknown and wonder, and each step could bring life-or-death danger. In this dimly lit space, a massive octagonal stone hovers in the air, its vibrations seemingly responding to the call of some ancient and mysterious force. Suddenly, without warning, the stone erupts with a fierce flame, shooting violently toward Ironclad.
Ironclad's reaction is instinctive; he immediately dodges, but the speed and force of the flame exceed his expectations. The fire grazes past him, creating a wave of scorching wind that distorts the air in an instant. He can feel the intense heat of the flames, leaving deep marks on his skin, and the destructive power of the fire sends a chill through him.
He worked to steady his breathing and heartbeat, quickly assessing the situation before him. He saw that a green flame had ignited at the upper left corner of the stone. The color of the flame was unique and mysterious; it glowed with an eerie green hue, carrying an indescribable sense of strangeness. Unlike ordinary flames, it flickered in the dark space, casting a chilling light and shadow. It danced upon the stone, its green fire seemingly singing an ancient and mysterious melody. The green light flowed over the stone, as if revealing some unspeakable secret.
Ironclad knew that the situation was not optimistic, but he also understood that in this spire filled with unknowns and dangers, avoidance was never a solution. He took a deep breath and bravely walked toward the mysterious green flame. Each step he took was firm and powerful, as if challenging the unknown dangers ahead. Though the uncertainties and threats made his heart tighten, his resolve remained as strong as steel. His heart was filled with a fighting spirit; he knew that on the path to breaking the curse, he must face it boldly and without fear.
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