Chương 39

Floor Eight We emerged from the tunnel into a dimly lit corridor of stone. Overhead, blue gemstones were set into the ceiling at regular intervals, their faint glow giving the place a sinister edge. Quest Assigned: The Gauntlet Congratulations on reaching Floor Eight. Very few Trialists make it this far. Playtime is over. Welcome to The Gauntlet. It contains three chambers, each of which is home to a figure of myth or legend from a different civilisation. To complete Floor Eight, you must defeat each of them.

Be warned – they will be beyond anything you have encountered so far. Reward: Essence of Knowledge – Aura Manipulation I was so surprised by the reward that I took a sharp intake of breath. Then, rather embarrassingly, I started choking on my own saliva. Rel, attempting to be helpful, shot a bolt of lightning into my back, sending me staggering forward. It actually helped.

"What was that about?" he asked. I filled him in on my conversation with Professor Indagore, emphasising what he'd said about how rare the Essences were, and then told him what my quest reward would be. Rel stared at me for a few moments before nodding slowly, as if something obvious had just occurred to him.

"It's good to see that GEC recognises our vast potential. They want to ensure we advance to Galaxy Showdown because they know the audience will love us. How could they not?" Part of me couldn't help but agree with him. After all I'd heard about GEC, they struck me as the sort of organisation that would do whatever it took to ensure their show was a success. Me, being one of the Salvaged, and Rel, a squirrel turned Trialist – it sounded like the perfect underdog story. Audiences loved that sort of shit.

Or it was the first step in some evil genius's masterplan to get revenge for the time Rel and I said their company had a shit name. I don't know. Maybe it's my natural human cynicism, but it sounded just as likely as them wanting to help us. Whatever the reason, I wasn't going to complain. In fact, I needed to find a mirror I could stash in my inventory pouch. If I was going to develop Aura powers, I needed to invest some serious time in perfecting my squint. Too much and I'd look like I was dozing off.

Too little and I'd look mildly confused. No, I needed to ensure it clearly conveyed to my opponent that they'd fucked up and were about to be flattened by mind powers.

"What the fuck is happening to your face?" asked Rel. His words tore me from my thoughts, and I looked down to find him staring at me. He was squinting, but his definitely fell into the 'mildly confused and a little judgemental' category. I cleared my throat.

"Nothing," I said.

"Right, let's head to the first chamber. Earth has some pretty awesome myths and legends, so I'm hoping one of the bosses is based on those. I'm curious to see what other planets have to offer as well." * It took us just over a minute to reach the first chamber. Floor Eight looked like it was going to be a no-nonsense, get-on-with-it kind of floor. That suited me perfectly. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little desperate to get my hands on the quest reward.

The chamber was enormous and had almost nothing in common with the dingy corridor of plain stone we'd just walked through. If you took an active volcano and somehow condensed it down into one vast room, I imagine it'd look a little like the one we were standing in. The walls and floor were formed of grey rock so dark it was almost black. Streams of lava cut through the stone. Being the only source of light, they bathed everything in an infernal glow. The air was thick with smoke, ash, and sparks.

I briefly considered what would've happened to six-months-ago Pete if he'd stepped foot on this Floor. I thought it was very likely he'd have ended up as roast Pete, the heat scorching his airway and lungs and cooking him from the inside out. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. All in all, it was not a particularly pleasant thought, so I was rather relieved when it was interrupted by a booming voice.

"It was both brave and foolish of you to enter my domain." An obsidian throne stood atop a low mound of dark rock, thin trails of lava running down its sides. A towering figure sat upon it, his hair and beard formed of crackling flame and his skin the colour of fresh blood. His eyes were roiling orbs of fire that sparked and flared as he fixed us with his gaze. He wore black plate armour, the polished metal glinting in the infernal light.

A warhammer rested across his knees, its head forged from the same dark metal, runes pulsing along its surface.

"I am Pyroth, the Avatar of Flame," he said, rising to his feet.

"I am sorry to say that this is where your journey ends." Avatar? I thought they were supposed to be tall, blue, and skinny. Unless… My eyes drifted to the lava flowing through the chamber and the sparks dancing in the air.

"Watch out," I whispered, eying Pyroth suspiciously.

"He's a firebender." Well, as firebenders went, the guy wasn't so bad. At least he was polite when he said he was going to kill us. Pretty much every boss we'd encountered so far had been an absolute asshole. In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised if it was one of the qualities the Tower Designers looked for during the interview process. Tower Designer: So, tell us a little bit about yourself. Candidate: My name is Evalria. I'm a demon.

I enjoy long walks on the beach, curling up with a good book, and flaying people with my whip. Tower Designer: Ohh, that's interesting. So, what makes you think you'd be a good fit for the Tower of Potential? Candidate: Well, I'm a hard worker, a good team player, and an enormous, raging asshole. Tower Designer: Those are some impressive qualities! What would you say is your biggest weakness? Candidate: That's a tough question.

Honestly, I'm so enthusiastic about being an asshole that sometimes I get a little bit carried away and start torturing people. Tower Designer: you're hired! I felt a little rude when I realised Pyroth was staring at Rel and me expectantly.

"I am Pete," I said.

"The Avatar of… err… Peasants."

"And I," said Rel, "have many titles – Squire, Magus, Grandmaster, Guildmaster, Champion, Lord." He paused, tilting his head slightly as he considered Pyroth.

"However, I'd quite like to add 'Avatar of Flame' to the list. You won't mind if I use it after we kill you, will you?" Pyroth let loose a deep, booming laugh that made the chamber tremble. The streams of lava flared brighter, the molten rock spitting and hissing.

"I like you, little furry creature," he bellowed.

"Few can jest when they stand in the presence of their executioner."

"Jest?" asked Rel.

"I'm deadly serious. When I leave this place, I'm having a banner made for my Guild Hall that reads, 'Rel, the Real Avatar of Flame.' I'll even commission artwork – perhaps a depiction of me standing on your corpse, looking contemplative as I stare off into the distance." Pyroth snarled, Rel's words dousing what little humour he'd had, and raised his warhammer. The lava responded, defying gravity as it rose into the air.

It twisted into coiling ribbons that swirled around the Avatar of Flame's body as if performing a dance. It might have been beautiful, if not for the small detail that in a few moments he'd likely try to use them to melt the flesh from our bones. I'd seen plenty of times what Rel's shit-talking did to people – it drove them into a violent, murderous rage. I didn't want to give this guy the chance to work himself into a frenzy and start doing his best Evalria impression by lashing out with his whips.

Especially when those whips were made of fucking lava. I exploded into motion, launching off the ground and rocketing towards him. My fist slammed into his chest plate before his expression even had the time to register surprise. His armoured form shot through the air and slammed into the chamber wall. The impact carved a huge crater, burying Pyroth in a tomb of shattered rock.

"What the fuck!" I lifted my fist and blinked. The skin across my knuckles was scraped raw. The guy's armour was incredible. I was a little disappointed my punch might've damaged it — it would've been a ridiculously good upgrade for Osian.

"We need to come back here to equip the skeletal knights," I said, turning to face Rel.

"Honestly his arm–" My words trailed off as a low rumble filled the chamber. I whipped around in time to see Pyroth burst out of the rubble like the kool-aid man. My jaw sagged as our eyes met. His were a little dazed, but they still blazed with fury. He wasn't dead… It hadn't been a full-power punch, but I hadn't exactly held back either. The quest was not joking when it said the Floor Eight bosses were on a different level to anything we'd faced before.

He stumbled towards us like he'd just taken a deep swig from Indagore's secret stash. There was a jagged hole in his armour where my fist had struck, the red skin beneath pierced by shards of black metal.

"Your power is worthy of respect," he boomed, raising his warhammer once more.

"But fire is the purest form of destruction. It consumes all things eventually, no matter how formidable they might be." There were no dancing ribbons of flame this time. Streams of lava surged towards him as if summoned. They washed over the wounds in his chest, and my eyes widened as I watched the black metal embedded in his flesh melt away and the wounds cauterise.

"Pyroth," I said slowly, taking a step towards him.

"You've made me a very happy man." Apparently no longer interested in conversation, he blurred towards me, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His runed warhammer swept upwards in a devastating uppercut, crashing into the underside of my chin and sending me hurtling into the ceiling. You have gained 1 durability. Current durability: 38 I fell in a shower of stone, but never reached the ground before another blow slammed into my side.

I skidded across the rock, the back of my shirt disintegrating from the heat and friction. The dick. I blinked and he was suddenly looming over me, his warhammer arcing down towards my face. I threw my hands up and caught the head of the weapon, the bones in my forearms protesting under the strain. He faltered when I grinned. Then I drove my foot into his stomach. A blast of scalding air burst from his lungs as he rocketed backward.

I surged to my feet and followed, using all of my strength to overtake his flying form. I spun to intercept him, bringing my elbow crashing down onto his unarmoured face. It crumpled. You have gained 1 strength. Current strength: 46 I slowly shook my head as I stared at Pyroth's near-headless corpse. The ribbons of flame that had healed his torso drifted towards the ruin of his skull, flickering in confusion as they tried to figure out how to repair something that wasn't there anymore.

Apparently deciding that rebuilding their master's head from scratch was too ambitious, they winked out of existence.

"That… was…" I turned to Rel, my face split into a shit-eating grin, and gave him a big thumbs up.

"Fucking awesome." And then my ribs and jaw began protesting.