Chương 410: Chapter 399 - The Gallows Bride

Leonie's gaze shifted beyond the forest, toward the place where the fog had been stripped away. A dark path stretched forward, framed by roots and tendrils twisting into a hollow opening in the earth.

"Beyond this clearing lies the final boss of the Dungeon," she said.

"Without delving into unnecessary detail, it is important that we understand the level at which such an entity stands." Alonso looked at her, curiosity sharpening his focus.

"According to the Guild's database, the only information available to us is its name and a warning: do not engage under any circumstances. As Silver-rank adventurers, that is the extent of our clearance." She paused, letting the weight of it settle.

"A party composed entirely of Silver ranks is advised to use their Escape Crystals at this point and withdraw. Even a team of seven peak-stage warriors at that rank is expected to fail and die inside." She continued.

"The creature ahead stands at mid-stage Gold-rank standard in power, making the Spawn we just faced resemble a common mob by comparison." Alonso frowned slightly, confused by the terminology, when Houston's voice echoed in his mind." You really should have read the database," Houston sighed." Anyway, I did the homework for you. I cross-referenced the locals' comparisons between ranks and Dungeon creatures with the Power Levels we've observed so far. Here's the rough scale.

It's mostly based on extrapolation, so take it with a grain of salt—call it a 10–15% margin of error." A table unfolded within Alonso's mind. Copper (State 2) — Power Level:? — and honestly, irrelevant Iron (State 3) — Power Level:?

– 5, 600 (peak) Silver (State 3) — Power Level: 7, 000 (early), 8, 400 (mid), 9, 800 (high), 11, 200 (peak) Gold (State 4) — Power Level: 18, 900 (early), 21, 000 (mid), 23, 100 (high), 25, 200 (peak) Mithril (State 4) —? Adamantite (?) —? Alonso blinked." Why is the difference between peak Silver and early Gold so large?"" Well, think about it. In this world, the division between Silver and Gold isn't based on accumulation. It's based on States.

And since they cultivate Extreme States, that's roughly an 80% leap just by crossing the threshold. The divider becomes as wide as it can possibly be." Alonso studied the numbers a moment longer as the implication settled in. He should have expected it. He knew well how vast the difference between States could be. They were separate realms of existence." But then what about someone in that gap? Is it still peak-Silver? What about myself, or even the Spawn?" he asked, still unsure how Houston derived the figures."

As the name suggests, peak Silver is basically as far as a native can go while still in the Third State after near-perfect accumulation. That means fully tempered Grade 4 gear, refined technique, strong Will control, battle experience and so on, but that's close to a hard cap. To keep improving they need to advance States. That's for natives. For Climbers your ceiling is naturally higher since you can obtain Titles and have your Awakenings, so if your accumulation reaches native standards, you'll exceed them."

As for the Spawn, stop trying to slot Dungeon creatures into the same box as natives," Houston went on." Just as Chiara told us, they don't run on the same architecture. No States, no gear, no progression. They're parameterised entities built around a target Power Index and encounter logic." For instance, the second boss in a mid-tier Dungeon is tuned to crush any lone Silver outright, while pushing a well-synergised team of seven right to the edge. That's probably the design.

A Gold can walk in and clear it solo without breaking a sweat, sure, but then the loot barely registers for him. Risk–reward equilibrium.

Clean, efficient, intentional." He paused, then added dryly, " So stop blending systems. Natives scale one way. Dungeon monsters scale another. My table just maps rough overlap zones. It's a heuristic, not scripture." Alonso studied it for another second before giving Houston an internal nod." Fair enough." He refocused on Leonie, the new information reframing the threat entirely. The final boss far exceeded his earlier estimate for this Dungeon.

He had not given it much thought when Gregor said a team of Silver ranks could do a mid-tier Dungeon, but now it seemed he had likely been referring to the second boss, not the final one.

"And I will be honest with you all," Leonie continued.

"Forget Gold rank. I do not believe any of us, with the exception of Alonso, has even reached peak-stage Silver yet."

"So based on data, references, and every comparison I could gather, the projected outcome of a direct confrontation is simple… defeat." She stepped forward and drew in a slow breath.

"However…" Her eyes sharpened.

"Numbers are not fate."

"Data measures what has already been achieved. It does not account for what has never been attempted."

"The Guild's records are built on precedent. On caution. On survival."

"We were never built for average." Her gaze moved across each of them in turn.

"A blade is not forged in calm water. It is tempered in fire."

"Strength does not emerge in comfort. It is carved under pressure."

"This Tower was built to crush those who hesitate. To grind down those who doubt. To filter the capable from the exceptional." Her voice remained steady.

"There was a moment before this one when I chose restraint. When we, Gen-2, refused a challenge placed before us." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"It cost me position." A faint spark flashed in her eyes.

"I will not yield it again." She let the silence tighten around them.

"And now I understand something clearly."

"We did not come here merely to survive."

"We came to ascend." She lifted her shield slightly, metal catching the dim light.

"We are the vanguard."

"The spearpoint that advances where others retreat."

"We are the blade that cuts through what stands before humanity."

"The bastion when the line falters."

"The strength that does not yield." Her voice deepened, steady and certain.

"The Tower wants to measure us."

"To reduce us to numbers. To ranks. To projections."

"Let it."

"Because numbers do not account for resolve."

"They do not account for Will."

"They do not account for seven individuals who have already shattered every expectation placed upon them." Her gaze hardened.

"We are the world's strongest Climbers not because a title was granted."

"But because we have earned every step."

"We are warriors."

"We are the line that holds."

"We are the force that advances."

"And when this Dungeon closes, it will not be because we retreated…"

"It will be because we won." Her shield lowered slightly.

"So yes. The numbers say defeat." Her lips curved faintly.

"Then we will prove the numbers wrong." Alonso smiled. That… was a good speech. She had struck at the core of The Tower's truth. Survival alone would never carry them upward. Her conviction threaded through every word, faint pulses of Will settling over them and rooting deep, seeping into bone and breath. His blood warmed. The urge to fight sharpened, hungry and focused, eager to seize victory from the edge of impossibility. Around him, the atmosphere shifted.

Ayu's rhythm sparked faintly through the air, heat rising with each measured breath. Imani settled deeper into his stance, presence thickening as the ground seemed to brace beneath him. Pablo's focus sharpened, resolve tightening behind narrowed eyes. Chiara stood composed, calm and distant, as faint spectral traces flickered at the edge of perception around her. Lukas grinned lightly. Leonie studied them all, steady fire burning in her gaze. No more words were needed. A final challenge awaited.

And so they marched forward. Beyond the clearing, a hollow mouth opened beneath an arch of twisted roots and braided vines, the wood interlocked so tightly it resembled ribs pulled apart to reveal a throat of shadow. Sap bled from the entrance in slow, viscous strands, dark and glossy, stretching before snapping and sliding down the bark in thick trails that clung like coagulated blood.

When they crossed the threshold, the darkness folded around them with weight, pressing against skin and senses alike, muting perception until even the echo of their own steps seemed swallowed mid-breath. Behind them, the vines stirred. They slithered over one another in layered coils, weaving shut with patient certainty, sealing the exit without haste.

The tunnel narrowed and curved, its walls slick with damp sheen, the air growing colder with every step, heavier, saturated with the metallic tang of sap and something faintly sweet beneath it. Then the blackness thinned. The passage widened. They stepped into a vast clearing. At its centre rose a low, rounded hill, smooth and symmetrical, as though the soil had been shaped by unseen hands to cradle whatever stood upon it. At the hill's peak stood a single oak, the only presence in the field.

Its trunk twisted upward in tightening spirals that resembled torsioned muscle more than timber, bark stretched over ridged forms that pulsed faintly as dark veins threaded beneath the surface. Crimson leaves crowned its branches, their colour rich and heavy, like freshly spilled blood caught in the light. They stirred in subtle tremors though the air lay still, each movement sending faint ripples of shadow across the clearing.

From the branches, sap fell in steady droplets, striking the soil below in thick, silent impacts that disappeared into the ground as though absorbed by a thirsting wound. And from the centre of the trunk— She stood bound to it. Half-formed. Half-consumed. The upper body of a woman protruded from the oak as though the tree had grown around her waist and claimed the rest for itself.

A bridal gown draped over her shoulders, the fabric once white, now saturated in spreading maroon stains that bled into the bark, threads thinning into fibres, fibres merging into the wood's grain. Her skin carried a pallor that bordered on grey, faint ridges of bark creeping along her collarbone and throat, hair tangled in thin rootlets that tethered her gently to the wood behind. Cracks traced her cheeks like fractured porcelain.

Her arms hung at her sides, elongated fingers tapering into darkened tips that gleamed with wet sap. Her eyes held no colour. No depth. Two hollow wells that absorbed the dim light and gave nothing back. Maerwyn, the Gallows Bride Power Index: 21, 000 Alonso stared at the creature that looked like it had crawled straight out of a horror story, his eyes narrowing. Sure enough. This thing… stood in a different realm. He did not need the numbers to confirm it.

He knew with absolute certainty that if he faced her alone… he would die. However— He was not alone. Imani stepped forward, tower shield rising as the Guardian Star ignited. Gravity thickened and warmth spread, the air bending as though drawn toward him. The ground beneath his boots compressed and steadied, answering his stance. Ayu took position at his side, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, shoulders loose, hips fluid.

A Song of Fire threaded through the clearing, its tempo building, invisible rhythm wrapping around her limbs as heat shimmered faintly in her wake. Pablo's summon advanced with intent, vine-laced limbs flexing while the double helix unfurled behind him in luminous rotation, strands of power stabilising as he prepared to graft and adapt at a thought. Chiara raised her cane. Around her, spectral symbols formed and reformed in layered geometries, equations sliding into place with precise inevitability.

The air near her felt structured, disciplined, held in readiness. Leonie moved to the centre and set her stance. Sword and shield lifted. Behind her, radiant wings burst open, stormlight spilling across the clearing and casting sharp white-blue light over her armour as the Valkyrie took form. Her presence settled across the battlefield as she claimed it as her own, feathers and crows flickering through the space as the arbiter of life and death drew shape in the stormlight.

Her Will intensified those of her allies, granting greater strength to those she deemed worthy to stand at her side. Lukas' links snapped into place between them, reinforcing Body and Pillar alike, pushing them beyond their ceiling. Their Wills aligned. Their combined presence surged forward, pressing against the oppressive aura radiating from the oak. The Gallows Bride answered.