Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System

Athena's lips quirked slightly, her expression softening just a fraction. "He's like a fortress. I just hope we can match his strength today."

"That's why we have to rely on each other. We're stronger together," Cyrus said, his voice steady but firm. "Whatever happens, we've got our magic back, and we're not going in blind this time. Let's make sure we're ready for whatever's inside."

Athena nodded in agreement. She could feel her mana reserves at full strength now, and with it, the confidence she had lacked the day before. They had been blindsided once—but not again. She glanced at the altar-like structure still looming within the dungeon's entrance, its dark energy pulsing faintly, and felt a renewed sense of resolve. "We're ready."

With that, the group advanced into the dungeon once more, the knights moving in formation, shields raised and weapons drawn. The eerie, polished black marble of the dungeon greeted them as they descended, the dim luminescence casting long shadows on the walls. But this time, the air felt different—lighter, less oppressive.

Cyrus took a deep breath, feeling the familiar hum of aether pulsing in his sword and the calm surge of mana within him. For now, their power was restored. But deep in his gut, he knew the dungeon was not done testing them yet.

As the group carefully explored the remainder of the dungeon, the tension from the previous day's battle still lingered. The sleek black marble walls of the dungeon gleamed ominously, but there was no immediate threat in sight. The knights moved methodically, their formation tight as they scoured each room, checking for any lingering monsters or traps. Cyrus, Athena, and Sylus led the way, all of them alert, their eyes scanning every corner.

Despite the dungeon's transformation, nothing seemed out of place or particularly dangerous anymore. It was almost too quiet, as if the dungeon itself had gone dormant after the horrific events of the day before. As they ventured deeper, it became clear that the dungeon's strange power had been concentrated in the area where the miasma had gathered, and now that the core of that energy was gone, the place felt... stable, though no less eerie.

Once they had cleared the dungeon's floors, Sylus turned to face Cyrus and Athena, his expression somber yet resolute. "I have to report back to the church," he said, adjusting his greatsword across his back. "They need to know what happened here—especially about the dungeon's changes."

Cyrus nodded, clasping Sylus' forearm in a firm handshake. "You did good work in there, Sylus. I don't think we would have made it without your strength."

Sylus gave a rare, slight smile, nodding. "Same to you. Stay sharp, and don't take any unnecessary risks."

Athena stepped forward, offering Sylus a small nod of appreciation. "Be safe, Sylus. We'll handle things here."

With that, Sylus departed, leading the remaining knights back toward the church. His heavy footfalls echoed as he ascended the stairs toward the surface, leaving Cyrus and Athena alone to continue deeper into the dungeon.

The two descended toward the third floor, the oppressive silence of the dungeon settling over them once more. Despite having their magic back and the support of the knights just moments ago, there was an unease between them. The memory of the black golems and the eerie transformations of the dungeon still weighed heavily on their minds.

As they reached the entrance to the third floor, Cyrus glanced at Athena, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Ready?"

Athena nodded, her staff gripped tightly in her hands. "Always."

They cautiously entered the third floor, their steps light and deliberate. The tension in the air seemed to ease, and after the overwhelming battle with the golems, both of them were prepared for the worst. Yet, what they found was... unexpected.

The third floor of the dungeon opened up like a surreal, frozen landscape, a stark contrast to the oppressive black marble and stone of the previous levels. It was as if they had stepped into another world entirely—one where nature had been infused with ancient, arcane power. The thick trees that lined the forest were towering, their trunks an almost glass-like shade of pale silver. Their bark shimmered as though dusted with frost, catching the faint, ethereal light that filtered down from unseen sources high above.

Each tree was unique, their roots curling and weaving into the ground like tendrils seeking to claim the earth. The leaves overhead rustled with a ghostly sound, pale green but shot through with veins of glowing blue, casting dappled shadows across the forest floor. Some of these trees had strange, crystalline growths at their bases, jagged shards of ice-like structures jutting from the ground, faintly pulsating with magical energy.

The forest floor itself was carpeted with a blanket of soft, bioluminescent moss. It glowed with a pale light, shifting gently between shades of blue and green. With each step Cyrus and Athena took, the moss seemed to react, sending ripples of light in all directions, as though the ground was alive and aware of their presence.

The air was crisp and cold, a biting chill that clung to their skin and armor. It wasn't the harsh cold of winter, but more of an unnatural, magical frost that seemed to linger just beneath the surface of everything. The faint mist swirled around their feet, curling lazily through the undergrowth, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the place.

Above them, the sky—or what passed for it in this bizarre dungeon—was a deep, velvety indigo. But instead of stars, strange orbs of soft light floated lazily through the air. These orbs, about the size of a fist, flickered in and out of existence, casting an otherworldly glow over the entire floor. They seemed to move with purpose, gently drifting between the trees, illuminating patches of the forest in soft, ethereal light before vanishing just as suddenly as they appeared.

Occasionally, the lights would pass over clusters of strange plants, their petals translucent and crystalline, shimmering like frozen glass. These plants, too, glowed faintly, their stems twisting in bizarre patterns, as though shaped by the flow of magic in the air. Some were rooted deep in the earth, while others hung from the trees above, draping the forest in an otherworldly beauty that felt both enchanting and dangerous.

As they ventured deeper, they noticed streams of shimmering water cutting through the forest. These streams reflected the glow of the orbs above, their surfaces eerily smooth, without a single ripple. The water was unnaturally still, as if time itself had stopped its flow. But when Cyrus crouched down to examine it, he realized it wasn't water at all—it was some kind of viscous, translucent liquid, cold to the touch, flowing lazily as if defying gravity.

The deeper into the forest they moved, the stranger the landscape became. Trees twisted into unnatural shapes, their branches interlocking in almost architectural patterns, forming arches and pathways. The forest had a strange symmetry to it, as though each tree, plant, and rock had been placed with deliberate intent. It gave the unsettling impression that the dungeon was not just a natural formation but something constructed, designed with purpose.

Athena's breath formed soft clouds in the chilly air as she whispered, "This place... it's beautiful, but it feels wrong. Like it's watching us." Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire

Cyrus nodded, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword as his eyes scanned the treeline. "It's too perfect. Like something's... controlling it."

Every so often, they would come across strange markings etched into the bark of the trees, symbols that pulsed with faint blue light. They seemed ancient, but powerful, humming with dormant energy. At the center of small clearings, they saw stone altars, much like the one from the previous floor, but these were covered in a thin layer of frost, their surfaces etched with even more arcane runes.

And then they saw them.

Just beyond a thicket of trees stood several creatures—deer, but not like any Cyrus had ever seen. Their bodies were sleek and white, their fur shimmering like fresh snow. But what caught his attention immediately were the countless eyes crawling over their bodies, blinking and swiveling unnaturally. Their antlers twisted upward like gnarled branches, massive and sharp, with the tips glistening as though coated in frost. The deers' movements were graceful, almost ghostly as they grazed among the trees, completely undisturbed by the two intruders.

Athena gasped softly beside him. "Winter Deer," she whispered, her voice filled with a strange mixture of awe and unease.

Cyrus glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "Winter Deer?"

Athena nodded, keeping her voice low as they observed the strange creatures. "They're extremely rare. I've only read about them in old texts. They're not aggressive, but they're highly dangerous if provoked. The eyes covering their bodies... they see everything, every movement, every shift in the environment. Their antlers are said to freeze anything they pierce. And they're only ever found in dungeons connected to ancient winter magic."