I Leveled Up Faster Than The Gods Themselves
Chapter 11: When the World Pushes Back
The deep silence that enveloped them was quickly shattered, as it often was in places designed to judge, to test the very fabric of one's resolve and spirit.
Ryn barely had a moment to draw a steadying breath before the Guild Hall began to react-not with the sound of hurried footsteps or the sudden blare of alarms, but with something far more insidious and ominous.
The very walls of the Hall seemed to constrict around them. The heavy stone groaned, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberated through the air, as the corridor began to subtly narrow, squeezing the space like a predator tightening its grip on its prey. The once-innocuous rune-light shifted hues dramatically, transitioning from a pale, calming blue to a foreboding warning red, an alarming signal that something was terribly amiss. Beneath his boots, the stone floor vibrated with a disconcerting insistence-not violently, but with a steady pressure that felt akin to the slow tightening of a fist, preparing to strike.
Seris, ever observant and cautious, stiffened at his side, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with dread. "Ryn… the Hall's recalibrating." The words alone conveyed a sense of impending doom.
With a stubborn resolve, he pushed himself upright, even as a tremor coursed through his legs. His muscles protested fiercely, aching from the overexertion he had endured just moments prior, each nerve alive with the remnants of that trial.
"Figures," he murmured under his breath, the bitterness evident in his tone. "Seems it didn't like being embarrassed."
The corridor responded to his sentiment with an ominous lurch, as if the very structure were displeased with his defiance. Suddenly, a section of the floor beneath him and Seris dropped away without so much as a warning, like a cruel trick of fate.
Instinct kicked in, and Ryn reacted with a desperate urgency-he grabbed Seris firmly, the strength of his arms propelling them both sideways just as the ground collapsed into an endless, bottomless abyss. Dust and shattered runes cascaded into the dark, disappearing without a sound, as if the void were a hungry creature desperate for sustenance.
They hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from their lungs as they slid across the remaining stone, disoriented from the sudden chaos.
Seris coughed, her voice raspy as she tried to gather herself. "That wasn't a test." Her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of their precarious situation.
"No," Ryn agreed, his tone grim and resolute. "That was the Hall deciding it doesn't want me alive."
As if confirming their fears, the corridor ahead sealed itself shut with an ominous finality, as if the Hall itself loathed the very presence of them and sought to rid itself of their existence entirely. Behind them, the walls continued to creep inward, a slow but inexorable advance that threatened to crush them into oblivion.
To be trapped in this suffocating space meant no chance of rescue, no glimmer of hope. It was a finality that left them with no second chances.
Ryn clenched his jaw, and a sense of icy determination washed over him.
"If I lose control now," he thought fiercely, "Seris dies with me."
The very notion of her suffering because of his failure was utterly unacceptable.
The Guild Hall's inner passage was a far cry from the challenges posed by the outer trials it was a realm drenched in the atmosphere of despair.
The air here was stagnant, heavy with the weight of ancient magics and iron dust, a grim reminder of the countless souls that had likely met their end in this unforgiving labyrinth. The runes etched into the walls were jagged and erratic, layered haphazardly over one another like scars-each one a testament to previous attempts, countless rewrites of fate, and countless failures that bore witness to the Hall's unforgiving nature.
This was not a sanctum for heroes it was a brutal filter, designed to weed out the weak, to expunge those who dared to falter.
Seris, sensing the gravity of their plight, grasped his arm, her grip firm and unwavering. "Ryn, tell me what to do."
He turned to her, truly seeing her for the first time-not as a mere side character drifting along in his journey, nor as a passive bystander caught up in the maelstrom of chaos-but as a steadfast ally, a person who had deliberately chosen to stand beside him, fully aware of the potential costs involved.
"I won't let this place decide our ending," he declared with a fierce determination, his eyes locking onto hers. "Stay close. No matter what happens-don't let go of me."
She nodded, her expression unwavering as resolve shone in her gaze.
"I won't."
The walls pressed ever closer, an insidious encroachment that instilled a primal fear deep within him.
Ryn swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest against the mounting dread.
Fear began to seep in-not of pain, but of failing yet again, of letting Seris down, of being swallowed by the mistakes of his past.
As memories of Tokyo flashed through his mind-missed payments, unanswered calls, and the haunting sensation of being erased from existence-he steeled himself. "Not here," he whispered fiercely to himself. "Not anymore."
In that moment of clarity, he activated the World Anchor-a desperate lifeline grasped in the turmoil.
Immediately, a tremendous pressure slammed into him, a chaotic force that felt alive and resistant, as if the very walls of the Hall were fighting against something immovable.
Ryn planted his feet firmly, his breath controlled as he straightened his spine, willing his body to withstand the assault.
Miraculously, the stone seemed to hesitate, the advancing walls slowed, then stopped entirely.
Cracks spiderwebbed outward from where he stood, marking the battlefield between his will and the oppressive force of the Hall.
Seris stared at him, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and horror. "You're holding the Hall back," she breathed, the truth of their dire situation settling heavily between them.
Ryn grimaced as the effort to maintain the anchor began to take its toll. "Yeah," he replied through gritted teeth, the strain evident in every word. "And it hates that."
His vision blurred at the edges, a sure sign that his limits were approaching quickly. Blood trickled from his nose, marking the floor below, a stark reminder of the physical price he was paying to stave off the darkness.
World Anchor was never meant to be sustained in such a way, yet survival demanded that he push through the pain. Every fleeting second drained him further, each moment a reminder that if he chose to relent, he would not only fail himself but doom Seris in the process.
Ryn recognized the truth-it boiled down to a simple fact: stopping was not an option.
Ryn decided it was time for a change in his approach.
Rather than pitting himself against the oppressive walls that surrounded him in a futile struggle-
He chose to adapt.
He allowed the immense force pressing in on him to flow through his very being, channeling it rather than fighting against it.
With each breath, he embraced the pressure, feeling it weave around him as the floor beneath them began to crack anew-not collapsing into ruin but reforming into something entirely different.
A narrow path started to materialize ahead of them, runes shifting and realigning themselves under Ryn's subtle guidance, obeying his intent.
Seris, standing beside him, gasped in astonishment. "You're not just resisting it…"
Ryn released a shaky breath, filled with both anxiety and determination.
"I'm negotiating," he stated with resolve.
Together, they advanced through the newly formed opening, moving slowly and deliberately, as if the very air itself were laden with significance.
Seris tightened her grip on his hand, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes in their dangerous situation.
"If you hadn't been here…" she started, her voice trailing off, hesitant to finish the thought.
Ryn cut her off gently but firmly, laying his hand over hers. "You're not alone anymore," he said, his voice a quiet assurance in the face of chaos. "Neither of us are."
Suddenly, the tight corridor widened as they emerged into a grand circular chamber, its expanse both daunting and breathtaking.
In the heart of this impressive space stood a singular figure.
He was neither clad in intimidating armor nor exuding a monstrous aura.
Instead, it was a man dressed in simple, unadorned robes. He stood with an air of authority, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, his eyes sharp with a piercing calm that belied the tension in the air.
"Ryn Arcten," he declared, a hint of recognition evident in his voice. "I am Guild Lord Vaelor."
Seris froze like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening in disbelief.
A Guild Lord.
Right here.
In this very chamber.
Vaelor regarded them with a faint smile playing on his lips, a smile that held an unsettling mix of amusement and challenge. "You've been… disruptive," he observed, his tone almost playful.
Without hesitating, Ryn stepped forward, instinctively placing himself between Seris and this imposing figure.
"You sent killers," he stated evenly, his voice steady but laced with accusation.
Vaelor merely inclined his head slightly, an acknowledgement layered with an air of condescension. "Correction. I sent evaluators," he replied, his tone cool and collected.
"And the collapsing floor?" Ryn countered, his voice tinged with anger.
Vaelor shrugged, his demeanor unchanged. "A variable."
Ryn clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword, the grip tightening with fervent determination. "People aren't variables," he retorted vehemently.
The trace of a smile faded from Vaelor's lips, and in its place came a cold resolve. "That," he said, locking eyes with Ryn, "is where we fundamentally disagree."
At that moment, the entire chamber's runes flared to life with a brilliant intensity, illuminating the space in vivid hues.
Raising one hand slowly, Vaelor commanded the air around them, which suddenly thickened as if laden with invisible weights. Ryn sensed the shift at once-this was no longer just the oppressive presence of the Hall or the confining walls they were confronted with something far more formidable-a force of will unlike any other.
World Anchor activated without command, a protective instinct flaring to life.
And as the two potent forces clashed, the chamber shuddered violently, the very foundations trembling. Ryn glanced at Vaelor and noticed a flicker of surprise in his sharp eyes-just the slightest hint of respect for the contest that was unfolding.
"…Interesting," he murmured, as if contemplating some newfound puzzle.
Despite the pain coursing through him, Ryn stood his ground, blood seeping from an unseen wound now. "I'm done being moved," he declared defiantly, his voice filled with fierce determination. "If the world wants me somewhere else-then it can push harder."
With that proclamation, the runes around them screamed, a chilling sound that echoed off the chamber walls.
And for the very first time in the history of Guild Lords-
One took a step back.
---
The chamber fell into a precarious silence, the air thick with tension and disbelief.
Vaelor regarded Ryn with a newfound interest, his composure slightly shaken. "We will speak again," he stated calmly, each word carefully measured. "Soon."
With those final words, the runes dimmed and the force that had saturated the air disappeared as swiftly as it had come.
In the blink of an eye, Vaelor was gone.
Ryn collapsed onto one knee, gasping for breath, the adrenaline leaving him in a wave of exhaustion.
Seris rushed to his side, her hands steadying him. "You scared him," she whispered in awe, her eyes wide with a mix of admiration and disbelief.
With a weak chuckle, Ryn responded, "Good," he breathed, a hint of pride in his voice. "That means I'm doing something right."
Far above the towering structure of the Guild Hall-
The gods stirred, sensing the shift in power and the tremor of defiance below.
And in the very realm of Ashfield, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation.
To be continued...