I Ascend Alone-Chapter 95: SSS-Rank Dungeon Part XVII

Chains of my own—pure shadow, ancient and cruel—erupted from beneath Korthar's feet, grabbing hold of his ankles and wrists mid-stride. His momentum crashed to a halt, confusion flashing in his blazing eyes just long enough for me to move.

I vanished in a blink of darkness then reappeared mid-air above him.

Adaptive Growth activated instantly.

My body reacted to the triple threat before me—evolving in real time, muscles coiling tighter, reflexes sharpening, senses exploding outward.

I brought the cleaver down in a spinning arc.

WHHHHHAAAAAM!

The impact was cataclysmic. Korthar was driven into the ground like a comet. The flames around him sputtered, his armor cracked deeper.

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Maerion tried again—teleporting behind me, twin daggers coated in thought-stealing poison aimed at my neck.

But I had already seen it coming.

I spun, catching both blades between my forearm guards, then slammed my knee into his chest—once, twice, three times. Then hurled him back through one of his own illusion gates, shattering it in the process.

I landed between all three of them, cleaver resting across my shoulder, breath steady.

"Three sovereigns. One empty throne," I muttered. "Let's see who deserves it."

-

Behind me, the battlefield surged.

Leon surged forward, twin swords ablaze with umbral fire, cutting down abyssal beasts like paper.

Raiden's thunder constructs blinked into place, unleashing arcs of electricity that lit the dungeon like a storm.

Gabriel's radiant runes pulsed through the air—turning the terrain itself into a weapon.

Ji Seong-Ho blurred past them all, a streak of silver and steel, leaving only death in his wake.

And holding the center like an unbreakable mountain—

Alexander Graves brought his molten fists down in a seismic double-hammer that shattered the skull of a corrupted wyrm the size of a truck.

My summons were with them—Fenrir howling through enemy ranks, Dusk Reaver flickering like death incarnate, Elite Orcs breaking formations with brutal, intelligent savagery.

-

The three of them paused.

Korthar knelt, molten cracks spreading from beneath his feet like a ritual sigil. Tharog slammed both fists into the earth, unleashing a tremor of abyssal force. And Maerion raised both arms, chains spiraling upward like a crown of writhing serpents.

Their bodies began to glow—not with light, but with concentration. Power retracting. Folding inward.

The ambient mana in the dungeon plummeted.

And then, silence. For a single breath, nothing moved. Not even the shadows.

Then a pulse of force, like a vacuum turned inside-out. Abyssal energy exploded from the center, wild and chaotic—but not leaking out. No... it was being consumed. Drawn inward.

Every abyssal creature on the battlefield—every lesser spawn, every summoned abomination—froze. And vanished.

Their bodies turned to mist. No resistance. No explosion. Just... gone.

All of them.

Across the entire battlefield, the S-Rank Hunters faltered in disbelief.

Leon skidded to a halt mid-swing, his blades dripping ichor. "What the hell—?"

Raiden's constructs blinked out, not from damage, but from confusion—cut off from their targets. He stared at the sudden emptiness with narrowed eyes. "They recalled their entire legion?"

Gabriel's wings of radiant glyphs dimmed for a moment. "No. They sacrificed them."

Alexander slammed his molten fist into the ground, anchoring himself as the pressure spiked. "They're pulling every drop of mana into themselves."

From the cracked battlefield, from every broken ridge and shattered platform, abyssal energy bled toward one point: the center of the Keepers' ritual.

Their forms were unraveling.

Armor peeling away like molten bark. Chains melting into runes. Their voices echoed together in an unholy chant, three tones merging into one abyssal resonance.

FWOOM.

A singular shape emerged.

Towering. Twisted. A nightmare forged from three wills, three monsters, now one.

The fusion entity stood over thirty feet tall—its frame part molten titan, part shadow reaper, and part wraith-lord cloaked in chains that sang with the screams of sacrificed beasts. It had no face, only a jagged crown of fire and void. Three hearts pulsed visibly in its chest, beating in synchronized fury.

The dungeon itself seemed to resist its presence. Cracks ran up the walls, and the air burned cold.

A new voice spoke—layered, deep, eternal.

"WE... ARE THE THRONE INCARNATE. THE TRIUNE WILL OF THE ABYSS. NONE SHALL PASS."

The Hunters were frozen.

Even Leon, for all his battle-lust, stared with his jaw clenched. "That's... that's not something we can take head-on."

Gabriel whispered something in a language forgotten by most mages. His hands trembled—not from fear, but the weight of calculations unraveling.

Alexander didn't speak. He just took a slow step backward, fists clenched... but even he knew. This wasn't like before.

It wasn't just a Keeper, It was a convergence of dominions.

And through it all...I just stood there.

One hand resting lazily on Tharog's cleaver. No fear. No hesitation. Just a slow breath.

"Impressive," I said quietly, watching the colossal fusion being stabilize, its body pulsing with raw mana, no longer leaking even a fraction of its energy. "You sacrificed your entire army for this. Every ounce of abyssal presence, funneled into one abomination."

The entity took a step toward me. The ground split beneath it. Its voice thundered again—

"AND YET YOU DO NOT KNEEL."

I smiled. "No," I said, stepping forward once, lifting the cleaver to my shoulder. "I don't kneel to borrowed power."

I took another step forward.

The fusion abomination loomed like a god of the void, its form splitting the air with every movement. Three hearts beat in its chest—Korthar's rage, Tharog's destruction, and Maerion's madness—all pulsing as one unified force of annihilation.

I could feel it.

The weight of its existence bending the dungeon. The flow of mana distorting. Even the System seemed to stutter in its presence, like it hadn't been designed to account for something like this.

Behind me, the battlefield had gone still.

Leon stepped forward. "Ryzen—"

"Back off."

My voice cut through the silence like a blade through silk.

Everyone froze.

Raiden blinked, electricity crackling along his knuckles. "What did you say?!"

I turned slightly, shadows curling off my shoulders like steam. My eyes locked with his, steady and sharp.

"All of you—back off. This thing isn't for you to fight."

Even Fenrir stopped mid-pounce, claws dug into stone, growling low as if waiting for confirmation.

Gabriel hovered higher, stunned. "Are you out of your mind?! That thing is channeling Tier-9 mana density—it's not even classified in the spell codices! You can't—"

"It'll just slow me down if any of you get involved."