Abarith
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Chapter 27: Labyrinth of Claws
🕑 Added 2024-11-22 06:00:15 +0000 UTCJeremy walked down the dim corridor, the sound of his boots bouncing off the wet stone walls. He hated how quiet it was—like the whole dungeon was watching him, waiting for him to mess up.
The passage twisted and turned, each corner looking more like the last. He glanced back over his shoulder, half expecting to see the path behind him gone. The dungeon felt like a maze, its layout looping and confusing.
Jeremy huffed. He’d already learned his lesson about getting lost after the last dungeon run with his friends. Wandering in circles wasn’t just embarrassing—it was dangerous. One wrong turn, and he’d walked right into trouble. That wasn’t going to happen again.
“Okay, no big deal,” he muttered to himself, his voice bouncing off the walls. “It’s just a creepy maze. Totally fine.” But the way the walls seemed to lean in, like they were trying to swallow him whole, made his chest tighten a little.
He reached out and scratched an arrow into the wall with his spear. “Left here,” he said under his breath, his attempt to sound confident falling flat. He moved on, marking another wall at the next turn. “And right. Left, then right. Got it.”
Except he didn’t “got it.” The labyrinth was a nightmare. Every corridor looked the same, with rough stone walls twisting and curving like they had no logic at all. Some paths looped back to where he’d started, while others just... ended. Dead ends with no warning.
Jeremy paused at one particularly confusing split, running his hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, trying to focus, and a flicker of an idea hit him.
The Memorization class. Professor Thalis’ voice echoed in his head. “Group your sequences into chunks. Left, right, straight. Break it down into steps. Repeat them aloud. Make them stick.”
“Right,” Jeremy muttered. He squatted down, scratching the last few turns into the dirt with his spear tip. Left, left, straight, right... left again. He repeated the sequence in his head. “Picture it. Make a map in your mind.”
The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Alright, Professor Pink Robes, let’s see if your fancy methods actually work.”
He forced himself to repeat the last few turns aloud again: “Left, left, straight, right, left.” With the sequence firmly stuck in his brain, he scratched the final arrow into the wall. “Better,” he mumbled, giving himself a tiny nod before moving forward. If the maze thought it was going to beat him, it had another thing coming.
The path ahead felt familiar—not just from the scratches he’d left behind but from the map forming in his head, the turns and dead ends piecing together like a puzzle.
As he rounded another corner, the silence started to mess with him. Every sound felt huge. The crunch of his boots on gravel? Way too loud. The scrape of his spear on stone? Deafening. And then there was the worst part: the sounds he couldn’t place. Little clicks, soft taps, faint scratches—just enough to make his skin crawl.
“Nothing,” he said out loud, forcing a laugh. “It’s just... echoes or something.” His grip tightened on his spear, the reassuring weight of it keeping his nerves from completely snapping.
But the sounds kept coming, faint and distant, just on the edge of hearing. It wasn’t constant—just enough to make him flinch every time it started again. He spun around once, twice, catching glimpses of... nothing. Just shadows. Always shadows.
Eventually, Jeremy stopped in front of a particularly confusing set of paths: three branching corridors, each one darker and narrower than the last. “Are you kidding me?” he groaned, his eyes darting between them. He crouched again, tracing the last path on the ground to steady himself. Left, left, straight, right, left. The sequence made sense. Kind of.
Jeremy studied the paths, then took a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s go with... left.” He marked the wall with an arrow, muttering, “If this gets me killed, Thalis is getting a strongly worded complaint.”
The sounds started again—scraping, clicking, always behind him, no matter which way he turned. “Not real,” he said through gritted teeth. “Totally not real.”
But when he turned the next corner, he froze. Claw marks—fresh ones—ran down the stone wall ahead of him. Four deep grooves, like something had just passed through. His stomach twisted. He forced a grin, muttering, “Just a creepy maze.” But the laughter didn’t reach his eyes, and the flickering shadows felt closer with each step.
He adjusted his grip on the spear, every muscle in his body tense. Then, he heard it. A faint scratch. A quick shuffle.
Jeremy froze. “What was that?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He spun around, the spear held in front of him. Nothing. The walls loomed, the shadows still. He swallowed hard, his dry throat making it loud in his own ears. "Probably nothing," he said, but his own words didn’t convince him.
A sudden blur shot out from the side. Jeremy barely had time to react before claws scraped across his shoulder. The lizard recoiled with a startled screech, its body shuddering from the force of the reflected impact. “Whoa!” Jeremy yelled, stumbling back as it lunged again, visibly injured but more ferocious. Its glowing eyes locked onto him, and its sharp teeth snapped inches from his arm.
Adrenaline kicked in. Jeremy jabbed with his spear, the tip grazing the creature’s side. The lizard screeched again, stumbling as it tried to circle him. This time, Jeremy’s aim was dead on—he drove the spear straight into its chest. The creature twitched violently before collapsing into a heap.
Jeremy yanked his spear free, his chest heaving. His shoulder throbbed from the earlier hit. “Okay,” he muttered, staring at the corpse. “That wasn’t so bad.”
The words had barely left his mouth when another lizard darted out from behind a corner. “Oh, come on!” Jeremy yelled, spinning just in time to block its attack with his spear. The impact jolted through his arms, but the reflected force slammed into the lizard, sending it skidding back with a screech. It recovered quickly, snarling as it tried to bite the shaft, but Jeremy shoved it back and drove the spear into its neck. The creature shrieked before dropping to the ground.
The sound of more skittering claws echoed throughout the corridor, coming from every direction. Jeremy spun, his eyes darting between the shadows. Every flicker of light, every stray sound, made his pulse race. “Great. A whole pack of you, huh?” He adjusted his stance, holding his spear at the ready. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The lizards didn’t give him a second to think. Two of them bolted straight at him, their glowing eyes locked on like he was their next meal. He moved without thinking, dodging the first and jabbing at the second with his spear. The tip caught it in the side, making it screech, but it didn’t go down.
Before he could follow up, the first lizard spun around and swiped at him, its claws colliding with his chest, the force ricocheting back onto the creature. It crumpled mid-screech, hitting the ground hard. The second lizard darted forward, aiming low.
He twisted hard to the side, his body moving so fast and smooth it almost didn’t feel like him.
Skill Improved: Reflexes Basic → Simple
The notification flashed in the corner of his vision, and suddenly everything felt... sharper. He could see the lizard’s movements clearer than before—the way its claws shifted, its body tensing just before it pounced again. His arms moved on instinct, his spear darting forward like it had a mind of its own. The point hit dead center, and the lizard let out a shriek before collapsing into a twitching heap.
“Gotcha,” Jeremy muttered, yanking his spear free. But the other lizard wasn’t waiting around. It rushed him fast, claws raised, teeth bared. Jeremy didn’t have time to think—he just braced himself as the claws scraped against his thigh. His armor reflected the blow, slamming the lizard into the wall. It staggered, dazed, and Jeremy lunged, driving his spear into its side with all the strength he had left. The lizard crashed to the ground, writhing for a second before it went still.
Jeremy stood there, panting, the corridor quiet except for his own ragged breathing. His hands were trembling so bad he could barely keep his spear upright, and the cut on his arm was bleeding enough to make him nervous.
“Not going great,” he muttered, trying to laugh but ending up wheezing. His whole body ached, and his legs felt like jelly. For a second, he wanted to just sit down and stay there forever.
But the flickering shadows didn’t let him relax. It felt like they were watching him, waiting for the next move. Jeremy wiped his sweaty face with his sleeve, took a shaky breath, and forced himself to stand up straighter.
“Alright,” he said, his voice low but firm. “What’s next?”
Jeremy stumbled into a small alcove, his legs barely holding him up as he collapsed against the wall. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, the cool stone pressing against his back the only comfort he could find. His spear clattered to the ground next to him, his fingers too shaky to keep holding it.
It was quiet for once. No claws scraping, no glowing eyes peering at him from the shadows. Just the sound of his gasps filling the air. But the quiet felt wrong—it felt like the labyrinth itself was holding its breath, waiting.
The last few hours had been nothing but a blur of constant ambushes. Jeremy had lost count of how many lizards he’d fought. The first couple had been manageable, but then they just kept coming, each encounter pulling him deeper into the twisting maze. His arms were heavy from swinging his spear, and every step had become a battle against the burning in his legs.
He glanced down at himself and winced. Blood trickled from shallow cuts on his arms and legs, a few already drying while others still oozed.
Still, it hadn’t been for nothing. He pulled up his Status, forcing himself to focus on the glowing screen in his mind.
Jeremy Hoppins
Tier -
Body 2323
Mind 30
Soul 2210
Skills:
Cooking - Basic 10/10
Introspection - Basic 10/10
Memorization - Basic 10/10
Multitasking - Basic 10/10
Reflexes - Simple 13/100
Running - Basic 10/10
Universal Equipment Slots - Personal
The sight of his Skills made his chest swell a little. It felt like proof that everything he’d endured so far was worth it. The lizards had been relentless, but they’d given him enough Essence to max out most of his Basic Skills. He’d poured it into Cooking, Introspection, and the others without much hesitation, feeling the satisfying rush of progress as they capped out at level 10.
But Reflexes—that was a different story. Leveling it had been slow, painfully slow. The jump in power was undeniable, but so was the Essence cost. While Basic Skills only needed a few hundred Essence per level, Reflexes had jumped from 1,000 Essence for Level 10 to 11,000 Essence just to push it to Level 11.
Now, sitting at Level 13, the cost had risen even further, and his remaining Essence wouldn’t even get him anywhere close to the cap of 100.
Reflexes - Simple
Level 13/100 - 14,000 essence
Body 13
Jeremy let out a slow breath, his eyes lingering on the glowing screen for a moment longer. “If I didn’t have Reflexes…” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t need to. Without Reflexes, he wouldn’t be sitting here.
He dismissed the screen with a flicker of annoyance and shifted against the wall, trying to get comfortable. Something sticky pulled at his leg, making him glance down. His boot was smeared with dark green lizard blood, and the stuff clung like glue. Jeremy grimaced.
"Great," he muttered. "As if I didn’t already look like I got chewed up and spit out."
A loud growl interrupted his thoughts—his stomach, reminding him it hadn’t been fed all morning. Jeremy groaned, leaning his head back against the wall. He’d walked into the dungeon full of confidence, imagining he’d breeze through it, grab a ton of Essence, and be back at the academy in time for lunch. Why bother with his bag if he wouldn’t even need it?
"What kind of idiot doesn’t bring anything into a dungeon?" he whispered, glaring at the ceiling. "Oh wait, me. I’m that idiot."
His throat felt dry, and just thinking about water made it worse. He licked his cracked lips, but it didn’t help. Every ache in his body seemed sharper now that he’d stopped moving. Jeremy groaned again, louder this time, and smacked his forehead.
"And now look at you," he said bitterly, glaring at the ceiling. "No bag, no food, no water. Just a spear and your stupid ‘lone wolf’ plan."
He slid down the wall, sitting with his head in his hands. For a second, he let himself feel it—how tired, hungry, and sore he was. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to quit, to just lie there and hope the dungeon forgot he existed.
The silence didn’t last long.
A faint scrape echoed through the corridor, barely audible over the sound of his breathing. He knew that sound too well by now. Claws on stone. They’d found him.
His stomach twisted as he gritted his teeth, forcing his body to move. The ache in his limbs screamed in protest as he pressed his back against the wall, raising his spear. "Of course," he muttered, glaring into the darkness. "Why would I deserve a break?"
The skittering grew louder, echoing from every direction. His pulse quickened, every shadow around him suddenly feeling alive. He braced himself, adrenaline dulling the pain as he stared into the darkness.
Two glowing eyes appeared first, followed by the sleek body of a lizard crawling out from a crevice. Another one joined it, its claws clattering on the stone floor. He raised his spear, taking a shaky step forward.
"Guess rest time’s over," he said as the first lizard lunged.
This maze wasn’t just testing him—it was grinding him down, bit by bit.
