CHAPTER 36: THIRTY-TWO FLOORS OF DEVOTION
FIELD NOTE:
If someone builds you a temple in a week, it is not worship. It is panic wearing incense.
The doors are open.
Not inviting.
Expectant.
Like the temple is a mouth, and it already decided I am food.
Fresh mortar lines still shine pale against obsidian-black stone. Scaffolding clings to the sides like ribs. Crimson banners snap in the ash wind. The flame-halo symbol repeats everywhere, loud enough to be desperate.
I hold up my clay seal.
Pot. Flame. Crown of nails.
The inner gate monks look at it, then look at me.
Their robes are gray with red trim. Their heads are shaved. Their eyes are too bright, like they have been awake for a week and worshipped for eight days straight.
One steps forward and bows.
“Champion of the Cinderpot,” he says.
I hate that title already.
“I’m not here for a ceremony,” I say. “I’m here for Lyra.”
His eyes flicker. Surprise. Then a calm that feels rehearsed.
“Ember God,” he corrects.
My jaw tightens.
“She’s not a god,” I say.
The monk smiles gently, like he is humoring a child.
“All who climb the Thirty-Two Trials may speak to the Ember God,” he says. “All others may pray from below.”
Thirty-two.
I stare past him.
A staircase spirals up through the center of the temple like a throat.
Landings. Gates. Seals.
A tower disguised as worship.
I glance at Livi beside me.
She stands in her ash cloak, hood up, blue hair hidden, face still too perfect for this world. The air around her smells faintly of rain that never comes.
Her mind presses into mine.
This place reeks of flame.
“It does,” I whisper.
The monk hears the whisper and frowns slightly, as if prayer is allowed but conversation is suspicious.
I turn to Livi.
“You stay here,” I say. “No trouble.”
Livi’s eyes narrow.
“You cannot tell the sea to wait.”
“Yes I can,” I say. “I have been doing it all day.”
Her contempt rolls in like cold surf.
You will not leave me behind.
“I’m not leaving you behind,” I say. “I’m parking you.”
Livi tilts her head.
I do not know that word.
“Stay,” I translate. “Do not flood the temple. Do not eat pilgrims. Do not become a legend again.”
Livi’s lips curl.
Contemptuous.
“Fine,” she says. “Go climb your stacked box of human feelings.”
I blink.
That was almost poetic.
Then she adds, sharp.
“But do not think you escape so easily.”
I exhale.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
I turn back to the monks and lift the seal again.
“I’m climbing,” I say.
The monk bows deeper.
“May you be tested,” he says.
“That’s not comforting,” I reply.
“It is correct,” he says.
The gate opens.
The stairs up are cold.
The air smells like ash and new wood and incense poured over panic.
My S-rank stew buff still hums in my blood.
[BUFF ACTIVE]
Cinderhold Pressure Stew (S)
All Core Stats +30%
Time Remaining: 1:41:12
I crack my neck.
“An hour and forty,” I whisper. “Okay. Speedrun.”
The temple answers by trying to kill me immediately.
FLOOR 1
The first landing gate shuts behind me with a stone thud.
The room is a training hall with clean mats and burning braziers.
Monsters crawl out of the braziers like the fire is birthing them.
Cinder Mites.
Ash Skitterers.
Small, fast, annoying.
I cut them down in seconds.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Cinder Mite x12 (Lv 39)
EXP +210 each (Solo Bonus)
The floor guardian arrives with no sound.
A monk.
Human shape.
But wrong.
His skin is gray like ash-clay. His eyes glow ember-red. His voice is flat.
“Trial,” he says.
He rushes with a staff.
I block once, cut once, and he falls apart into ash like a puppet.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 1 (Lv 40)
EXP +1,480
Loot: Ember Prayer Bead x1, Ember Seal Fragment x1
The next gate opens.
FLOOR 2
Smoke fills the room, thick enough to chew.
Ember Bats swoop.
I throw Lanternflash Ofuda darts and the bats drop like burned paper.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Ember Bat x8 (Lv 40)
EXP +260 each
Guardian monk appears with bare hands.
“Flame endures,” he says.
He tries to strike my throat with a palm that radiates heat.
Buckler catches it.
My arm stings.
I stab him through the ribs.
He shatters into ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 2 (Lv 41)
EXP +1,620
Loot: Ashwrap Cloth x2, Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 3
Cinder Wolves.
Four of them.
They circle, low growls, eyes too bright.
I hate wolves. Always have.
I Watercut twice.
Wave arcs slice their legs.
Then I finish them with clean katana work.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Cinder Wolf x4 (Lv 41)
EXP +540 each
Loot: Cinder Pelt x4
Guardian monk uses twin short blades.
He is faster than the last two.
Stew buff makes me faster anyway.
I dodge, parry, cut his wrist, then his throat.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 3 (Lv 42)
EXP +1,780
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
The fragment clicks into the gate lock like a key.
Except the lock doesn’t keep it.
The stone drinks it—then the heat runs backward, crawling into the clay seal at my belt. The crown-of-nails symbol glows for a second, like it just grew another tooth.
So that is how this works.
Thirty-two fragments to reach her.
Not worship.
A lock.
FLOOR 4
Slag Slimes.
Acid stench.
They try to melt my boots.
I use Water Magic to rinse the floor into channels, forcing the slimes to pool where I want.
Then I cut.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Slag Slime x6 (Lv 42)
EXP +480 each
Loot: Slag Gel x6
Guardian monk fights with grapples.
He tries to lock my joints.
Threat Grip triggers.
I stay stable.
I headbutt him and he collapses.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 4 (Lv 43)
EXP +1,920
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
My system chimes.
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 48 -> 49
Four floors and I have already leveled.
This is going to be insane.
FLOOR 5
Ash Serpents rise from cracks in the stone.
They spit hot dust that burns my eyes.
I pull my improved ashmask hood up.
Ash Filter kicks.
My eyes stop screaming.
I cut the serpents down.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Ash Serpent x5 (Lv 43)
EXP +510 each
Loot: Ash Fang x5
Guardian monk wields a chain.
Yes. A chain.
He tries to wrap my katana arm.
I slice the chain midair.
The monk freezes like it cannot compute that I broke the script.
Then I stab him.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 5 (Lv 44)
EXP +2,080
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 6
A bridge over a molten channel.
Heat hits my face like a slap.
Fire Wisps drift above the lava like lazy thoughts.
I throw ofuda darts.
Pop pop.
They explode into sparks.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Fire Wisp x10 (Lv 44)
EXP +260 each
Loot: Wisp Core x2
Guardian monk appears in the middle of the bridge.
He is bigger.
His ash-clay skin is darker.
“Devotion,” he says.
He swings a hammer.
A monk with a hammer.
I duck, step, cut his knee seam, then his neck.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 6 (Lv 45)
EXP +2,240
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 7
The room is a furnace.
The air is thick.
Dry.
Hot.
My lungs hate it.
Heat Resistance tries to wake up.
[NEW SKILL ACQUIRED]
Heat Resistance (Rank F)
Good.
Now help me.
Magma Beetles swarm.
Their shells pop when I cut them, spraying hot goo.
I get hit. It burns.
Snap Mend Ofuda.
Pain dampened.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Magma Beetle x9 (Lv 45)
EXP +310 each
Loot: Magma Shell Plate x4
Guardian monk is fast.
Too fast.
He lands three strikes on my ribs before I adjust.
Stew buff keeps my body from folding.
I bait him, parry, then Iaijutsu draw-cut his torso.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 7 (Lv 46)
EXP +2,410
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 8
The room is a dojo.
Clean.
Silent.
The floor is charred wood.
A single monster waits.
Cinder Golem.
It looks like a training dummy made of obsidian and glowing cracks.
It hits like a truck.
I block.
My buckler groans.
I Water Magic a thin film across the golem’s joints.
Steam bursts.
Cracks widen.
Then I cut deep.
It falls.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Cinder Golem (Lv 47)
EXP +6,800
Loot: Obsidian Chunk x3, Ember Core x1
Guardian monk is different.
He bows.
Then attacks with fists that leave flame trails.
He is a martial arts boss in a fire temple.
Of course.
He lands a palm strike on my chest.
[HP -2,040]
[STATUS]
Burn: Moderate
I grit my teeth and slap a Pulse Mend Ofuda.
Warm burst.
Burn fades.
I throw a salt packet.
The monk’s flame trail stutters.
I close distance and cut his arm off.
He crumbles.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 8 (Lv 48)
EXP +2,900
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
My system hits again.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 49 -> 50
Heat Resistance pings.
[SKILL RANK UP]
Heat Resistance: F -> D
Good.
I am still sweating like a guilty man.
FLOOR 9
Ash Wraiths.
They drift.
They whisper.
They try to put thoughts in my head.
Lyra’s voice.
My voice.
Mina’s voice.
I hate it.
I throw Lanternflash darts and the wraiths pop like balloons.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Ash Wraith x7 (Lv 47)
EXP +520 each
Loot: Wraith Ash x7
Guardian monk uses a prayer bell.
Each ring is a shockwave.
My ears ring.
My bones ring.
My soul wants to ring.
I cut the bell chain.
Then cut him.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 9 (Lv 49)
EXP +3,160
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1, Prayer Bell Clapper x1
FLOOR 10
Slag Slimes again, bigger.
Fire Wisps again, meaner.
I stop being polite and start Watercutting everything.
The floor becomes a slaughterhouse.
Guardian monk is Level 50.
He has an aura now.
A faint halo of heat.
He fights to the death.
So I give it to him.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 10 (Lv 50)
EXP +3,440
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 11
The room is stairs.
Just stairs.
But the stairs themselves try to bite.
Trap stair.
Spike stair.
Flame jet stair.
I leap.
Wall-step.
Athletics SS turns architecture into suggestion.
Monsters here are minor.
The hazard is the floor.
Guardian monk waits at the top like a disappointed teacher.
He hits harder.
I hit faster.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 11 (Lv 51)
EXP +3,700
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 12
A chamber of mirrors.
Not Mirror Gate mirrors.
Hot mirrors.
Polished obsidian that reflects my face with heat shimmer.
Fire Elementals crawl out of the reflections.
I Water Magic a spray into the air.
Instant steam.
Instant fog.
Their bodies distort.
My katana finds the cores.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Fire Elemental x5 (Lv 51)
EXP +1,120 each
Loot: Elemental Ember x5
Guardian monk is Level 52.
He speaks two words.
“Prove it.”
I do.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 12 (Lv 52)
EXP +4,020
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 50 -> 51
Stew buff timer blinks.
[BUFF]
Time Remaining: 0:58:03
Just under an hour left.
I swallow.
“Keep moving.”
FLOOR 13
Hellhounds.
Real ones.
Not wolves.
They breathe short bursts of flame like coughing.
They bite.
They drag.
I take a hit to the thigh.
[HP -1,660]
Bleed: Minor
Snap Mend Ofuda.
Stitch.
Stop.
I cut them down.
Guardian monk uses a spear.
He tries to pin me.
I break the spear shaft.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 13 (Lv 53)
EXP +4,340
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 14
Ash Knights.
Armored skeletons with fire in the ribs.
They swing heavy swords.
I parry.
My arms burn.
My shield gets chipped.
I use Water Magic as a slick layer on the floor.
They slip.
Then they die.
Guardian monk appears with a sword too.
His blade glows red.
He tries to copy me.
He is not me.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 14 (Lv 54)
EXP +4,660
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 15
A narrow hallway.
No dodging.
No running.
Just forward.
Cinder Spiders drop from above.
They web with hot silk.
My hood catches web.
Ash Filter saves my eyes again.
I burn the web with a tiny Light Magic flare.
Then I cut spiders.
Guardian monk uses grappling again.
He almost gets me.
Almost.
Athletics SS saves me.
Threat Grip saves me.
I cut his throat.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 15 (Lv 55)
EXP +4,980
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 16
The mid-floor chamber.
A grand hall with pillars.
Braziers.
A shrine alcove with a new statue of Lyra that makes my skin crawl.
The monster here is not subtle.
A Pyre Lion.
It is made of fire and ash with a mane of sparks.
It roars and the air shakes.
[ENEMY DETECTED]
Pyre Lion
Level: 56
Traits: Flame Pounce, Ember Roar, Ash Blind
I grin.
“Finally.”
It pounces.
I block with buckler.
The impact almost breaks my arm.
I use Water Magic to blast its face.
Steam erupts.
It stutters.
I cut the core in its chest.
The lion collapses into embers.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Pyre Lion (Lv 56)
EXP +12,900
Loot: Pyre Mane Spark x1 (Rare), Lion Ember Core x1 (Rare)
Guardian monk arrives.
Not a golem monk.
This one looks almost human.
Almost.
He has a real face.
Real eyes.
His voice is calm.
“Stop,” he says.
That word hits me harder than his fists.
I hesitate.
Then he attacks.
Fast.
Precise.
A monk who knows how to kill.
His strikes target joints, throat, ribs.
He is trying to disable, not test.
This one is not a puppet.
Or he is a puppet with better strings.
He lands a palm strike on my shoulder.
My arm goes dead.
[STATUS]
Nerve Shock: Minor
My stew buff is still active, so my body refuses to collapse.
I grit my teeth and respond like a monster.
Salt packet to his face.
Lanternflash dart to his eyes.
Then I cut his leg.
He falls.
He looks up at me.
For half a second, his expression is almost sad.
Then he smiles.
“Good,” he whispers.
And crumbles into ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 16 (Lv 57)
EXP +6,400
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1, Monk Charm Token x1 (Rare)
My system pings like it is trying to keep up.
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 51 -> 52
Kenta: 52 -> 53
My stew buff timer blinks again.
0:21:12
Twenty minutes.
Not enough.
FLOOR 17
The first floor after the midpoint feels like the temple stops pretending.
The room is a kiln corridor—walls close in, open up, rotate, like it’s breathing around me. Heat pulses in time with a low, ugly chant vibrating through the stone.
Cinder Scorpions skitter out of cracks, tails dripping spark venom.
Ash Reapers follow—thin, smoky shapes with hooked arms that want to pull me apart and call it prayer.
I stop thinking.
I start moving.
Water Magic to the floor.
Slick.
Steam.
Visibility gone.
I kill by sound.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Cinder Scorpion x3 (Lv 57)
EXP +640 each
Loot: Scorpion Ember Barb x3
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Ash Reaper x2 (Lv 57)
EXP +820 each
Loot: Reaper Soot Hook x2
The guardian monk steps out of the fog like he was waiting inside my lungs.
He carries a three-section staff—folding segments that snap and whip like bone.
“Endure,” he says.
I don’t.
I break him.
I take one hit to the forearm that makes my hand tingle, then I step in, cut the hinge of his weapon, and take his head.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 17 (Lv 58)
EXP +6,820
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
After that, the climb stops feeling like rooms.
It starts feeling like chewing through a fever dream.
FLOOR 18
A room of ash dunes.
The floor shifts under my feet like sand.
Ash Sandworms burst up.
Try to swallow.
I Watercut their mouths.
Salt packet inside.
They die angry.
Guardian monk uses twin sickles.
He spins like a grinder.
I parry until my arms scream, then cut his neck.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 18 (Lv 58)
EXP +6,980
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 19
The room is vents.
Dozens of them.
The walls breathe heat at me in angry gusts, like the temple is practicing exorcism and I am the demon.
Every inhale tastes like scorched metal.
Monsters here are small but cruel—Ember Leeches that fling themselves at bare skin and burn while they drink.
I hate them for their commitment.
I snap water across my arms like a shield, then cut them off one-handed.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Ember Leech x11 (Lv 58)
EXP +300 each
Loot: Leech Sear Gland x6
Guardian monk arrives with incense burners on chains.
He swings them like flails.
The smoke is thicker than the heat.
The smoke wants in.
I throw a Lanternflash dart straight into the smoke.
Light cracks it open.
Then I cut him through the burner chain and his throat in the same step.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 19 (Lv 59)
EXP +7,100
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
Heat Resistance climbs.
[SKILL RANK UP]
Heat Resistance: D -> B
Good.
The air is still miserable.
FLOOR 20
A lava river crossing with stepping stones.
The stones move.
Of course they do.
Monsters are Lava Leeches that jump and latch.
I use Water Magic to make temporary crusts.
Not true ice.
Just cooled stone that pretends.
I leap.
Kick.
Land.
Guardian monk waits on the far side with a halberd.
He tries to sweep me into lava.
I laugh once, cracked, because that is hilarious.
I bait the sweep.
Jump.
Land behind him.
Cut.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 20 (Lv 59)
EXP +7,200
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
Stew buff expires.
It does not fade gently.
It drops off like a cliff.
[BUFF ENDED]
Cinderhold Pressure Stew (S)
My muscles instantly feel heavier.
My speed drops.
My strength drops.
My luck drops.
I hiss.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Now it’s real.”
FLOOR 21
It gets harder instantly.
My timing windows shrink.
My mistakes hurt more.
A Fire Warden Beetle rams me into a wall.
[HP -1,940]
I Pulse Mend.
MP drops hard.
The guardian monk hits me twice and my ribs scream.
I win anyway.
Barely.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 21 (Lv 60)
EXP +7,980
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 22
I craft on the landing.
No forge.
No comfort.
Just need.
I take Pyre Mane Spark and weave it into my coat seams with ashwrap cloth.
[CRAFTING SUCCESS]
Heat-Sealed Coat Stitch (Rare)
Effect: Burn Resistance (Moderate)
Effect: Heat Fatigue Reduction (Minor)
My system pings.
[SKILL EXP]
Crafting +12%
Sealcraft +9%
The next room is small—more chapel than arena.
A single brazier.
A single guardian.
He carries a needle-thin blade and a spool of glowing prayer thread.
He flicks his wrist.
The thread whips toward my ankles like it wants to tie me to the floor and call it salvation.
I cut it.
It hisses like a living thing.
He tries again.
I step in.
Katana to sternum.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 22 (Lv 60)
EXP +8,360
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
Then I keep climbing.
FLOOR 23
Ash Golems with molten cores.
I learn a new trick.
Water Magic to the cracks.
Steam explosion inside.
Core destabilizes.
Then cut.
Water Magic pings.
[SKILL RANK UP]
Water Magic: C -> B
Guardian monk appears right after, like he heard the rank-up and took it personally.
He wields a staff capped with an ember stone, swinging it like he wants to hammer my spine into worship posture.
I don’t give him the chance.
I Watercut low, take his footing, then finish with one clean draw-cut.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 23 (Lv 60)
EXP +8,880
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 24
A room of chanting.
Not voices.
The walls.
Runes glow.
Heat pulses.
The floor guardian monk is surrounded by floating prayer beads like a halo of bullets.
He flicks his fingers.
Beads shoot.
They hit like crossbow bolts.
I dodge.
I get hit.
I heal.
Then I throw a Bind Ofuda at his feet.
He freezes for half a breath.
I close distance and cut through the bead string.
He crumbles.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 24 (Lv 61)
EXP +9,400
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1, Prayer Bead Chain x1 (Rare)
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 53 -> 54
FLOOR 25
The monster room is a Phoenix Nest.
Not full phoenix.
Chicks.
Small flaming birds that explode on death.
I hate them.
I kill them anyway.
I take burns.
I patch burns.
I smell like cooked regret.
Guardian monk laughs.
Then dies.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 25 (Lv 61)
EXP +9,740
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 26
The floor is a library.
Not books.
Scroll racks.
Fire scrolls.
Ash scrolls.
Devotion scripts.
I touch nothing because Lyra would call me a loot goblin with standards and she would be correct.
Monsters are Scroll Wraiths.
I cut paper.
I am good at that.
Guardian monk uses paper seals too.
He tries to bind my limbs.
I use salt and rip them off.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 26 (Lv 62)
EXP +10,020
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 27
The stairwell narrows.
The air thins.
The temple is so tall it starts to feel like a mountain.
My lungs burn.
My legs burn.
Second Wind triggers twice.
I hate that it can.
At the landing, a guardian monk waits with no incense, no braziers—just a pressure in the room that makes every breath feel taxed.
“Up,” he says.
Like it’s a commandment.
I answer with a sword.
He tries to palm-strike my diaphragm.
I twist, let it graze, and put my blade through his collarbone seam.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 27 (Lv 62)
EXP +10,260
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 28
A true boss room.
A wide circle.
A pit of fire in the center.
Chains hanging from the ceiling.
The monster is a Chain Salamander, huge and slick, wrapped in red-hot iron.
It lashes chain at me like a whip.
My buckler takes a hit and cracks deeper.
My arm goes numb.
My HP drops.
I use Water Magic to cool the chain.
Steam bursts.
Chain stiffens for a beat.
That beat is enough.
I cut the salamander head.
It thrashes.
Then dies.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Chain Salamander (Lv 62)
EXP +15,800
Loot: Red Iron Chain x6 (Rare), Salamander Scale x10 (Rare)
Guardian monk arrives with a chain too.
Of course.
He thinks he is the chain king.
I show him the crack in my buckler and smile.
“You’re late,” I say.
He attacks.
I let the chain wrap my buckler.
Then I yank him in.
Katana through chest.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 28 (Lv 63)
EXP +10,600
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 54 -> 55
FLOOR 29
The monsters become mean.
Not hot mean.
Clever mean.
Ash Mimics.
Fake doors.
Fake stairs.
Fake treasure.
I nearly get bitten by a chest with teeth.
I do not forgive it.
I take its teeth as loot.
Then the guardian monk shows up pretending to be another door.
He is not a good actor.
He swings a hidden blade from the frame like he thinks surprise is devotion.
I kick him in the hinge.
He stumbles.
I cut him in half.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 29 (Lv 64)
EXP +11,480
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
FLOOR 30
The guardian monk is Level 65.
He speaks.
“Why climb,” he asks.
I blink.
He is asking mid-fight.
“That’s new,” I mutter.
He attacks anyway.
His staff strikes are heavy.
His footwork is clean.
I get clipped in the jaw.
My teeth ring.
My vision flashes.
I spit blood and answer the question anyway.
“Because she’s my friend,” I say.
The monk pauses for half a heartbeat.
Then he smiles.
“Good,” he says.
Then he fights harder.
I win with a Watercut that splits his staff and his torso at the same time.
He crumbles into ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 30 (Lv 65)
EXP +12,200
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
That good felt like a message.
Lyra’s taste.
Or a lie designed to look like hers.
I do not like it.
FLOOR 31
The air is thin and hot.
The room is small.
The monsters are just two.
Ember Knights.
Full armor.
Fire in their ribs.
Swords that hum.
They fight like trained soldiers.
Not monsters.
I take hits.
I take burns.
I patch with my last Pulse Mend Ofuda.
[HP +1,620]
[MP -690]
My MP is now low enough that I can feel the danger in my bones.
I kill both knights.
Barely.
Then the guardian monk appears.
No weapon.
Just hands.
He bows.
“Last step,” he says.
I do not bow back.
I cannot afford politeness.
He attacks.
His strikes are fast.
Each hit feels like a hammer wrapped in silk.
He lands a palm on my sternum.
[HP -2,480]
My vision goes white.
Second Wind triggers.
My body refuses to quit.
I throw a Lanternflash dart at his face.
It pops.
He blinks.
I cut his throat.
Ash.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Temple Monk Guardian, Floor 31 (Lv 67)
EXP +13,900
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1
The gate opens.
One floor left.
FLOOR 32
The final chamber is silent.
No braziers.
No incense.
No chanting.
Just a long stair that rises to a single door made of black stone.
In front of the door stands the last monk.
He is tall.
Ash-clay skin polished smooth.
Eyes ember-red, steady.
In his hands is a sword.
Not a katana.
A straight blade with a flame pattern carved down the center.
He looks at me like he is measuring my soul.
“Champion,” he says.
His voice is human.
Real.
“My name is Abbot Kurogane,” he says. “This temple was built to keep her here.”
My stomach drops.
Built to keep her here.
Not to honor her.
Not to worship.
To trap.
Kurogane lifts his blade.
“You may pass,” he says, “only if you defeat the lock.”
He points his sword at his own chest.
“I am the lock,” he says.
Then he charges.
Fast.
Too fast.
He crosses the room in one blink and his blade hits my buckler.
My buckler cracks again, almost breaking.
[HP -1,980]
I stagger.
Kurogane’s second strike is at my neck.
I twist.
Barely.
The blade grazes my collar.
My coat stitch takes part of it.
My skin still burns.
I counter with Watercut.
He parries it clean, like he has seen every trick I own.
He is not a puppet.
He is a real fighter.
A fanatic.
A lock.
He cuts my thigh.
[HP -1,120]
Bleed: Moderate
I slam a Snap Mend Ofuda on the wound.
Stitch.
Stop.
My MP drops again.
Low.
I can’t heal forever.
So I stop trying.
I attack.
Athletics SS.
Footwork.
Parry.
I push in close where his sword arc is smallest.
He headbutts me.
My skull rings.
I almost fall.
He whispers, calm.
“You are late,” he says.
That sentence hits harder than his blade.
Late.
Lyra has been here how long.
I snarl and throw salt in his face.
He does not blink.
He steps through it.
His blade slams into my buckler and the buckler finally gives.
Crack.
Split.
My shield breaks.
The strap snaps.
The buckler falls into two pieces.
I am disarmed of my tank.
Kurogane’s blade rises for a finishing strike.
My heart hammers.
No shield.
Low MP.
No pulse mends left.
Just me and a sword and rage.
I do what I always do when my gear breaks.
I get meaner.
I drop my stance.
I lower my center.
I stop defending like a knight and start moving like an animal.
Kurogane strikes.
I do not block.
I step inside it.
The blade slices my shoulder.
Pain explodes.
[HP -2,060]
My vision flashes.
But I am inside his guard now.
I slam my forehead into his nose.
Not polite.
Not clean.
Effective.
His head snaps back.
For half a heartbeat, the lock stutters.
I draw-cut.
Iaijutsu fundamentals.
Fast.
Clean.
Straight across his throat seam.
The blade bites.
Deep.
Kurogane’s eyes widen slightly.
Then he smiles.
“Good,” he whispers.
He collapses.
Not like a corpse.
Like a man choosing to end.
His body crumbles into ash.
The final Ember Seal Fragment rolls across the floor and stops at my foot.
[ENEMY DEFEATED]
Abbot Kurogane, Floor 32 Guardian (Lv 68)
EXP +28,000 (Threat Differential Extreme)
Loot: Ember Seal Fragment x1, Kurogane Flameblade Shard x1 (Rare), Abbot’s Charm Token x1 (Legendary)
[LEVEL UP]
Kenta: 55 -> 56
Kenta: 56 -> 57
My system chimes again.
[NEW TITLE ACQUIRED]
Temple Breaker
Effect: reduces intimidation from faith-based coercion
Effect: increases resistance to “duty” manipulation
Good.
Because duty is the nastiest spell in this world.
I pick up the last fragment.
Thirty-two.
The clay seal at my belt flashes hot—pot, flame, crown of nails all burning at once—then the door answers like it’s been waiting to exhale.
The door unlocks.
Stone slides.
Warm air pours out.
Not furnace heat.
Room heat.
Human heat.
The smell of cooked food and incense and too many people trying too hard to be good.
I take one step.
Then another.
And the top floor opens into a throne room.
A brand-new throne room.
Carpet too clean.
Pillars too sharp.
Banners too bright.
Offerings stacked like someone emptied a market to make a point.
And at the far end, on a throne carved from obsidian with a flame motif that makes me want to punch architecture, sits Lyra.
Casual.
Leg crossed over knee.
Elbow on armrest.
Chin in palm.
Like she is bored in a meeting and waiting for someone to finally say something interesting.
Her hair is a little messier than usual.
Her eyes are sharp.
Her expression is the same as always.
Annoyed.
Alive.
A few shrine attendants kneel nearby, heads lowered, trembling like they are afraid to breathe wrong.
Lyra looks at me.
Then she smiles.
A real one.
Small.
Relieved.
Then instantly covered by sarcasm like a blanket.
“Took you long enough,” she says.
My chest cracks open.
“Hi,” I manage.
Lyra’s eyebrows rise.
“That’s it,” she says. “Hi. After I get stranded, worshipped, and sentenced to sitting on a throne like a decorative fireplace.”
I take another step into the room.
My shoulder throbs where Kurogane cut me.
My buckler is gone.
My boots are black with ash.
My inventory is full of temple loot and spite.
“Got eaten by a leviathan,” I say.
Lyra blinks.
Then her eyes narrow.
“You what,” she says.
Before I can answer, something flickers beside the throne.
A small blink of light.
Pyon appears on the armrest next to Lyra like a teleporting punctuation mark.
He stares at me.
Then his ears go straight up.
…KENTA
He blinks onto my shoulder so hard it feels like he is tackling me with love.
My throat tightens.
“Hey buddy,” I whisper.
Lyra watches Pyon like he just confirmed reality.
Then she exhales, slow.
“Okay,” she says, voice quieter. “You’re real.”
“I’m real,” I say.
Lyra sits up slightly.
Her gaze flicks over me.
Blood.
Scratches.
Burn marks.
Broken gear.
“You climbed all thirty-two floors,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say. “They weren’t subtle.”
Lyra snorts.
“They built that whole thing,” she says, jerking her chin at the room, “in like a week.”
“I saw the mortar,” I say. “Still wet.”
Lyra rubs her forehead.
“So,” she says. “Here’s the situation.”
She points down the hall behind the throne.
“Washed up on the Ash Coast,” she says. “Local patrol finds me. Monsters hit their village. I roast the monsters. They decide I am a god.”
I open my mouth.
Lyra lifts a hand.
“No,” she says. “Do not say ‘of course.’”
I close my mouth.
Lyra continues.
“They are harsh,” she says. “But they are… loyal. In a scary way.”
She gestures at the kneeling attendants.
“They latch,” she says. “Hard. And they reminded me of you.”
I blink.
Lyra’s eyes narrow.
“Not the dumb parts,” she snaps. “The emotionally attached weirdo parts.”
I cough.
“That’s fair,” I say.
Lyra sighs.
“I had a soft spot,” she admits, like it physically pains her to say it. “They were scared. They were tired. They needed someone to believe in. They saw fire and decided to make it meaning.”
She pauses, then mutters.
“And they were weirdly polite. They fed me. They made me a cloak. They tried to teach me their prayer schedule like that was normal.”
She leans back on the throne, expression twisting.
“Then they went too hard,” she says.
I glance at the room.
The throne.
The offerings.
The banners.
The attendants trembling like they might break.
“Too hard,” I repeat.
Lyra laughs once, sharp.
“They built this,” she says. “They formed monk guardians. They started sending challengers up the floors so they could say ‘the temple tested them’ and then cry and kneel harder when the challengers died.”
My stomach twists.
“Those monks were constructs,” I say quickly. “Most of them. Some felt… different. But I don’t think I murdered actual villagers.”
Lyra’s jaw clenches.
“I hope not,” she says. “Because if they asked real people to die for this, I swear I will burn the whole region down.”
Her fingers flicker with heat without her even trying.
The attendants flinch.
Lyra notices and instantly forces the heat down.
See.
Soft spot.
Lyra continues, voice lower.
“I tried to leave,” she says. “And they cried. Like ugly cried. Like children. Like warriors. Like all of it.”
She looks away, annoyed at her own emotions.
“They kept saying,” she says, “‘If you leave, the fire goes out.’”
She laughs again, bitter.
“I am not a campfire,” she says.
Emotional hostage.
It hits me clean.
Not chains.
Not guards.
Not spells.
Just devotion weaponized.
“I couldn’t just roast them,” Lyra says, voice tight. “Because they are not evil. They are just desperate and intense and kind of insane.”
She looks at me again.
“Like you,” she adds.
“Hey,” I say.
Lyra points at me.
“Exactly,” she says.
I exhale.
“So you sat on the throne,” I say.
Lyra shrugs like it is nothing.
“I figured,” she says, “if I stay calm and don’t burn anyone, you’ll show up eventually.”
Then she smirks.
“Eventually,” she repeats.
I stare.
“I came as fast as I could,” I say.
Lyra’s eyes glitter.
“You took long enough for them to build an entire religion around me,” she says. “So either you were slow, or you were doing something insane.”
I hesitate.
Pyon shifts on my shoulder.
Lyra’s gaze sharpens.
“Oh,” she says slowly. “You did something insane.”
I open my mouth.
Lyra lifts a hand.
“Do not speak,” she says. “Show me.”
I blink.
“Show you what,” I ask.
Lyra leans forward.
“Your stat screen,” she says. “Now.”
My stomach drops.
“Why,” I try.
Lyra’s eyes narrow to knives.
“Because I can feel you are wrong,” she says. “I can feel you leveled like a psychopath. Open it.”
I swallow.
Party sharing is a thing.
She can request a view.
I sigh and trigger the share.
A window flickers.
Lyra’s eyes track it instantly.
She starts scrolling.
At first her face is just annoyed.
Then it becomes confused.
Then it becomes offended.
Then it becomes genuine horror.
“Kenta,” she says slowly.
“Yeah,” I say.
Lyra’s finger scrolls faster.
Her eyes widen.
Then she looks up at me like I have personally betrayed physics.
“Why,” she says, voice climbing, “are you level fifty-seven.”
I blink.
“That seems reasonable,” I say.
Lyra’s head snaps back to the window.
“Reasonable,” she repeats.
Then she reads the skills out loud, like saying them will make them less real.
“Athletics SS,” she says.
My stomach tightens.
“Swimming SS,” she says.
Lyra’s jaw drops.
“Pet Taming SS,” she says, voice cracking.
I cough.
“Cooking S,” she says, deadpan now. “You can cook better than priests.”
I shrug.
Lyra scrolls again.
Her eyes lock on something.
She freezes.
Slowly, like her body is afraid to move too fast and break reality, she looks up at me.
“Kenta,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say again, because what else do I have.
Lyra points at the window with a shaking finger.
“Why,” she whispers, “do you have a companion listed as Rivermouth Leviathan.”
Silence fills the throne room.
The attendants tremble like they just heard the word apocalypse.
Pyon blinks.
…uh oh
Lyra’s eyes go wide and bright.
Her voice rises into a scream that shakes incense dust off the ceiling.
“YOU CAUGHT THE OCEAN.”
