I Ascend Alone-Chapter 151: Everdeep Bastion Part III

I moved forward calmly, stepping over jagged ice as if it weren't there.

The Fractured Thrones raised their scepters again. A glacial wind howled—attempting to freeze the entire chamber.

"Suppress."

Monarchal Authority pulsed from my core, radiating outward like a tide of shadow.

The frost hesitated.

Then I raised my hand—Nox'Thalos materialized in my grip.

I pulled back the string, void surging into the bow.

BOOM!

The arrow of pure abyssal mana tore through the air, splitting the wind itself. It pierced through the chest of the first Fractured Throne, and a heartbeat later—shattered its entire upper body into a thousand frozen pieces.

The second roared. Charged.

I flicked my hand, and Nox'Velathos now in my left palm.

I blinked forward.

Steel met bone—and void won.

The second king fell.

The third raised his scepter to summon a prison of ice—but Fenrir tackled him from the side, pinning him. One of the orcs leapt up, axe raised high, and brought it down in a final, merciless blow that caved in the frost-wrapped skull.

—

Silence returned.

Mist faded.

[ System Notice ]

➤ Floor 3 Cleared.➤ Portal to Floor 4 Unlocked.

The portal appeared at the edge of the chamber, and surrounded by a ring of frost-covered bones. Its light pulsed, colder and more alive than before.

Behind me, the vanguard regrouped.

Dusk Reaver bowed silently, blade resting against his shoulder.

Fenrir trotted over, fur steaming slightly.

And the Abyssal Orcs slammed their weapons once more, breathing heavily, but undaunted.

I turned to them.

"Good."

I looked into the portal.

"Next."

And we stepped into Floor 4.

The portal burned hotter than before.

Instead of the usual cold shimmer, it pulsed with an orange-red glow, as if magma bled through the seams of space itself.

I stepped forward without hesitation.

The heat struck immediately.

—

[ Everdeep Bastion – Floor 4 / 1000 ]

The ground cracked beneath my boots.

This floor was a world of flame and steel, an enormous forge-chamber carved into the crust of the planet. Molten rivers carved glowing trenches through obsidian-black rock. Chains as thick as tree trunks hung from a cavern ceiling lost in smoke. The roar of fire echoed from every direction, and in the distance, I could see an anvil the size of a cathedral, glowing red-hot.

The entire floor pulsed like the inside of a dying star.

[ System Notice ]

➤ Enemies Detected:

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— Blazebound Vargoths – Infernal Hounds of the Inner Crucible (Elite-Class)

— Pyronaught Sentinels – Ancient Molten Constructs (Rare-Class)

— Thalvuz, the Ash-Sworn Tyrant (Mini-Boss-Class)

Total Detected: 28

The Blazebound Vargoths leapt across lava trenches like wolves made of pure ember and bone. Their bodies flickered with internal flame, jaws dripping molten venom.

The Pyronaught Sentinels were titanic golems with runes engraved into their molten cores. Every movement cracked the stone floor, and their fists could crush siege walls.

Then there was Thalvuz—a horned warlord of flame standing nearly four meters tall, wrapped in molten armor, wielding a great cleaver forged from a volcano's heart. His presence alone distorted the air. He raised his weapon slowly, and the rivers of lava shifted at his command.

Behind me, Fenrir snarled.

The summons were already moving.

-

Dusk Reaver surged forward, his blade glowing as it clashed with a Pyronaught, dancing between burning fists with impossible precision. His strikes were methodical—focused, each swing cracking enchanted plating and drawing sparks.

Fenrir hunted the Vargoths like a predator among prey. He ripped one apart mid-leap, then flung the corpse into the lava with a snap of his jaws. The rest lunged at him in a pack. He met them head-on, abyssal flames clashing against infernal ones.

The Abyssal Orcs battled in tandem—flanking, baiting, and overwhelming the golems through brutal, coordinated strikes. Their weapons glowed from heat, but they pressed on, undeterred.

And I walked through fire like it wasn't there. I faced Thalvuz directly.

The tyrant raised his cleaver and pointed it toward me, speaking in a guttural, forgotten tongue.

Nox'Velathos appeared again in my hands.

I blinked forward, blades wreathed in monarchal void.

Steel met lava-born fury.

He struck like a meteor. I moved like a shadow.

We exchanged blows—raw power against refined death.

His cleaver clanged against my daggers, but I was faster. He swung again, roaring, and I vanished, reappeared behind him, and drove both blades into the gaps in his armor, right at the spine.

He screamed, void surged, and he fell.