The morning after Adam's arrival in Kazakhar, the cell buzzed with a nervous energy. The time for their daily ordeal in the Darkling Woods loomed. As the sun, or rather, the absence of it in the perpetually dark zone, approached its zenith, a gate at the far end of their cellblock slid open. A demon guard bellowed, "Weapons selection! One minute!"
Panchenko clapped Adam on the shoulder. "Alright, demon-slayer, what's your poison?"
Adam thought about the swift, decisive action that had led him here. He needed something that could deliver a quick, fatal blow, something that felt like an extension of his will. "A sword," he declared, his voice firm.
Panchenko grinned. "A classic! I, my friend, prefer something with a bit more reach. A spear for me! Keeps those nasty creatures at arm's length, literally."
Harry, ever the worrier, wrung his hands. "I-I think I'll take a bow. I'm… I'm better from a distance."
Jones simply grunted, his powerful frame already radiating confidence. "Give me an axe. Nothing like a good swing to split a skull."
They joined the stream of other prisoners, a motley collection of hardened faces and wary eyes, shuffling towards a large armory. Inside, racks upon racks of weapons glimmered under the harsh lamps. Adam's hand closed around the hilt of a well-balanced longsword. It felt cold, heavy, and strangely comforting.
The transition from the stark confines of the cellblock to the Darkling Woods was jarring. One moment, they were in a sterile corridor; the next, they were swallowed by a vast, inky forest. Towering trees, their branches gnarled and devoid of leaves, clawed at the perpetually dark sky. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else, something primal and unsettling. The only light came from the distant energy lamps high above, filtering through the dense canopy, creating an eerie, perpetual twilight.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" Panchenko quipped, adjusting his grip on his spear. Harry nervously notched an arrow, his gaze darting around. Jones hefted his axe, a dangerous glint in his eye.
They hadn't gone far when the ground began to tremble. A low, guttural groan echoed through the trees, growing louder. Suddenly, the earth ahead of them erupted, and a colossal mass of twisted wood and roots surged upward. It was a Nightmare Treant, a monster tree, its bark-like skin mottled with dark, pulsating growths. Its limbs, thick as tree trunks, ended in massive, gnarled fists, and where a face should have been, a gaping maw of razor-sharp thorns snarled.
"By the void!" Harry yelped, an arrow already on its way, embedding itself harmlessly in the treant's woody shoulder.
"Looks like our first welcoming committee!" Panchenko shouted, leveling his spear.
Just then, a flash of black hair and a lithe form moved past Adam. "Well, hello there, handsome," a sultry voice purred. It was a woman with long black hair, striking emerald eyes, and a figure that could turn heads even in this hellhole. She carried two short daggers, twirling them effortlessly. "Astrid, at your service. And it looks like we've got a party." She winked at Adam before lunging, her daggers flashing against the treant's leg.
From behind them, a short man with quick, darting black eyes and even shorter black hair chuckled. "Always the charmer, Astrid! Don't let her fool you, new guy, she's as deadly as she is distracting." This was Lee, a man of clearly Chinese descent, who wielded a pair of nunchaku with surprising fluidity. "Lee, here. And that big lug behind me is Pao. Don't mind him, he's just dreaming of food."
Indeed, a chubby man with a rounded face and belly, Pao, ambled up, his eyes wide and somewhat vacant, clutching a massive, rusty cleaver. "Mmm, wonder if treants taste like stewed bark," he mumbled, causing Lee to roll his eyes.
"And I'm Ylva," a tall, muscular woman with blonde hair and an eyepatch over her right eye announced, striding forward with a two-handed warhammer. Her presence exuded a quiet power. "Let's put this abomination out of its misery."
The Nightmare Treant roared, its thorned maw snapping. Jones charged, his axe whistling through the air, embedding itself deep into one of the treant's roots. The monster shrieked, lashing out with a massive limb. Jones barely dodged it, rolling aside.
Adam, feeling a surge of the old fury, joined the fray. His sword danced, finding the softer points where bark met the grotesque growths. He ducked under a sweeping branch, then thrust his blade upward, aiming for a weak point near its core. Astrid's daggers were a blur, targeting joints. Lee's nunchaku cracked against the treant's woody skin, surprising it with quick, repetitive blows.
"Aim for the glowing bits!" Panchenko yelled, thrusting his spear at a pulsating green node on the treant's chest.
Ylva brought her warhammer down with devastating force, cracking through a thick branch. The treant staggered, its roars turning to agonized groans. Pao, surprisingly, landed a lucky, clumsy blow with his cleaver that severed a smaller root.
The combined assault was relentless. Adam, fueled by the memory of Elena and Karl, found a rhythm in his movements, parrying and striking with precision. Finally, with a coordinated effort, Jones buried his axe deep into its main trunk, Ylva shattered another limb, and Adam plunged his sword into the glowing core.
The Nightmare Treant shuddered, then let out a final, ear-splitting shriek before collapsing into a tangled mess of splintered wood and dying roots.
Exhausted, panting, and covered in grime, they stood amidst the wreckage.
"Well, that was… invigorating," Panchenko said, wiping sweat from his brow.
"You call that invigorating? I nearly peed my pants!" Harry exclaimed, his face pale.
Astrid sidled up to Adam, her emerald eyes sparkling. "Not bad for a new guy. You've got good instincts, handsome."
"We survived," Ylva stated, her voice calm. "Another day."
As the dreaded 6 PM mark approached, a low, resonating hum echoed through the forest, a signal that their time was up. They made their way back to the cellblock, a strange camaraderie forming between them.
Back in their cell, amidst the dim light, Adam looked at his cellmates. "We did it."
Panchenko grinned. "Indeed we did. And now for the question of the hour: stay or ascend?"
Adam knew the answer immediately. He needed to master this level, to understand its monsters, its rhythms. He was not ready for the boiling lakes or the scorching deserts. Not yet. He needed to grow stronger, to adapt.
"I'm staying on Level One," Adam said, his gaze firm. The others, after a moment of consideration, nodded in agreement. There was a shared understanding that surviving one day did not mean they were ready for the horrors of the levels above. Vengeance would wait. Training began now.