Part-268

  As he ehe chamber, a group of Ratlings scurried out from the shadows, their beady red eyes glowing with malice. They hissed and chittered, brandishing their crude ons, but James didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his movements fluid and precise, the rhythm of his training guiding his every strike.

  With a quick flick of his wrist, his sword sshed through the air, cutting down the first Ratling before it could eve. The sed lu him from the side, but James spun on his heel, bringing his sword up just in time to block the attack. He tered with a powerful strike, sending the creature tumbling to the ground.

  One by ohe Ratlings fell, their shrieks eg through the chamber as James cut them down with ease. His body moved on instinct, each strike perfectly timed, each motion a testament to the hours of training he had put in. It was almost too easy now. He had grown stronger—so much strohan he had been when he first ehis pce.

  But James wasn’t here for the Ratlings anymore. They were just the warm-up. His real goal y deeper within the dungeon, in the lower levels where the true challenges awaited him. He could feel it—the pull of something powerful, something dangerous, lurking in the shadows of the dungeon’s heart.

  And tonight, he was ready to face it.

  As the st of the Ratlings fell, James wiped his bde and put it on the belt, his gaze fixed on the dark corridor ahead. The path twisted and turned, desding even further into the unknown, and with each step he took, the air grew heavier, more oppressive.

  Whatever y ahead, James k wasn’t going to be easy. But he weled the challenge. He had e too far to turn baow.

  With a final gnce behind him, James took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness, the fme of the Lamp of Time flickering in his hand, guiding his way forward.

  The real battle was about to begin.

  James stood at the entrao the Level 2 Early Midse of the Lamp of Time dungeon, feeling the familiar pull of the straimeless energy that suffused the pce. The cold, stone walls stretched out into the darkness before him, illuminated only by the faint glow of the distant torches. His senses, honed by tless hours spent within these a halls, were on high alert. He knew what was waiting for him—goblin archers.

  He had fought his way through this se of the dungeon more thaimes, but the archers alosed a unique challeheir relentless arrows came in precise intervals, their timing impeccable, their aim deadly. But today, James repared. His enhanced Sloth View, a skill that slowed his perception of time in critical moments, gave him the edge he o react to their attacks.

  He drew his trusty wooden sword, a humble on that had served him well despite its simplicity. Its weight felt reassuring in his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, he tested its bance. His muscles tensed as he took a step forward, his senses expanding, searg for the slightest hint of movement.