Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 155: The Vault (5)

Instinct.

All those times I had fought for my life, those moments when everything hung in the balance, when the edge between survival and death was razor-thin—that had honed something beyond my senses. A battlefield instinct, something primal that had guided me in the most dangerous moments. It wasn't about seeing the enemy, or even feeling them through mana. It was about trusting in the battle itself.

I took a deep breath, the pain in my body fading to the background. I closed my eyes.

Trust your instincts.

The world went dark, the sounds of Mazekar's claws scraping the ground blending with the illusionary whispers. But in the stillness of the dark, I could feel it—a faint pulse, a rhythm in the chaos. It was subtle, barely there, but it was real.

Mazekar's presence.

I waited, my estoc steady in my hand, as the illusions swirled around me, trying to confuse, to distract. I ignored them, letting the false images pass by as if they didn't exist. They were nothing but shadows.

And then, I felt it—a slight shift in the air, the real Mazekar moving toward me, hidden among the phantoms.

There.

The instant it lunged, I moved. My eyes remained closed, but my body knew where to go, my estoc swinging in a precise arc. The black flames of theFlame of Equinoxignited, cutting through the air with lethal precision.

CLANG!

This time, I hit something solid. The real Mazekar.

I felt the force of the impact as my blade met its jagged stone-like hide. The beast let out a roar, its claws slashing toward me in retaliation, but I was already moving. My body flowed with the rhythm of the fight, each step guided not by sight, but by instinct.

I ducked under its swipe, the venomous energy missing me by inches. My estoc glowed with the combined power of starlight and death energy as I twisted, driving the blade toward its exposed flank. This time, I wasn't deceived. I wasn't fooled.

The strike landed clean.

Mazekar screeched, the sound echoing through the chamber as my blade tore into its side, black flames searing its flesh. I pressed the attack, my eyes still closed, trusting in the instincts that had been carved into me through battle after battle. The illusions swirled around me, but they couldn't touch me. I was beyond them now.

Mazekar lunged again, but I was ready. My estoc moved with the fluidity of water, deflecting its claws, redirecting its force just as I had done with Korvan. Each strike I made cut deeper, each movement more precise, as I began to wear it down.

This was the difference.

Between reacting and knowing.

And as I felt the beast stagger, its strength waning, I knew the end was near.

"Grrrr….Grrrr….."

"Raaaaa!"

"ROOOAAAAR!"

The sounds of the other monsters were coming from all across. I could even picture everything within my mind as their illusions could even affect my head just by voices.

There were countless different monsters all around attacking me in the form of an illusion.

THUD!

Yet, my ears picked therealsound.

The sound of staggering back.

Indeed.

Mazekar staggered back, its jagged stone hide cracked and bleeding where my estoc had struck, but I didn't move in for the killing blow.

Not yet.

This fight—this moment—it was more than just survival.

It was an opportunity.

A rare chance to train, to refine the instincts that had saved me countless times before. In the heat of battle, I had no choice but to trust them, and now was no different.

Sometimes in battle, your eyes couldn't see everything. Sometimes, your mind could be outwitted, overwhelmed by the chaos of the fight or by an opponent more cunning than you. In those moments, there was only one thing left to rely on—instinct. The primal knowledge that had been carved into your very bones through countless fights, where every move was life or death.

I let Mazekar lunge again, feeling the pulse of its movement through the air, the shift in mana as it twisted its massive body. My eyes remained closed, but my body moved, fluid and precise. I stepped back, narrowly avoiding its venomous claws, and instead of countering with a lethal blow, I deflected its strike, guiding its power away from me.

'Not yet,'I thought.

This wasn't just about defeating Mazekar. It was about pushing my instincts to their limits, honing them until they were as sharp as the blade in my hand. I knew I could end this quickly—I had the power, the skills, even the black flames of theFlame of Equinox. But that wasn't the point. I needed to train. I needed to become better.

So, I held back.

I limited my power, deliberately slowing my movements just enough to test my reactions, to feel every shift in the air, every pulse of danger. I didn't rely on my master's swordsmanship, the techniques that had been passed down to me. No, this was about something deeper. It was about me, about trusting the instincts that had carried me through so many battles.

Mazekar screeched again, enraged by the fact that it couldn't land a solid hit. Its claws slashed wildly, venom dripping from the tips, but I danced around them, always just out of reach. My estoc moved in response, deflecting its strikes without delivering a killing blow. I let it think it was closing in, that it had a chance, even though I could feel its strength waning with each failed attack.

This was the training I needed.

In the chaos of a real fight, sometimes raw power wasn't enough. Sometimes you had to rely on something more primal, more instinctive. And that's what this fight had become—a test of my ability to survive not just with skill, but with something deeper.

I let Mazekar press the attack, letting it come closer, feeling the brush of its claws against my skin, the venom sizzling against my mana barrier. I dodged and deflected, each movement smoother than the last, more precise. My instincts were sharpening with every second, my body reacting without thought, without hesitation.

The rhythm of the fight became clear. I knew Mazekar's patterns now, its movements predictable even in the chaos of illusions swirling around us. It was a beast driven by desperation, by instinct—just like me.

But unlike me, it didn't have control.

As Mazekar lunged once more, I felt the moment arrive. My instincts screamed at me, guiding my hand as I deflected its final strike. This time, I didn't hold back. With a swift motion, I spun my estoc, black flames igniting along the blade, and drove it deep into the creature's side.

CLANK!

Mazekar let out a final, agonized screech as the black flames of theFlame of Equinoxconsumed it from within. Its body convulsed, then crumbled.

"ROAAAR!"

"SCREECH!"

"SWOOSH!"

The illusions continued to take presence over my head, filling it directly.

Yet, I did not care at all.

"Haaaah….."

I stood there, breathing heavily, my estoc still glowing with the faint remnants of the black flame. My eyes remained closed, my senses still sharp, still attuned to the fight. But now, there was only silence.

I had won. But more importantly, I had trained.

[Are you done?] Vitaliara's voice came softly into my mind, breaking the silence that had settled over the chamber.

I nodded, my breathing still a little heavy as I steadied myself. I was taking control of my breath, pulling myself back from the raw intensity of the fight. "Yeah," I murmured, feeling the slight tremor in my body as the adrenaline began to fade.

[Good. I didn't want to disturb you,] Vitaliara continued, her tone thoughtful. [I felt like you were in 'the zone,' so I decided to let you handle it without interference. That's why I didn't help.]

I gave a faint smile, still not opening my eyes. "You did well. I was indeed in the zone."

She had sensed it.

That primal focus, that clarity of mind where everything else fades away, and all that matters is the fight. It had been a long time since I'd felt that kind of connection with my instincts, and it had been necessary for a fight like this.

With a deep breath, I opened my eyes.

The illusions were still there, countless monsters filling the chamber, their grotesque forms twisting and snarling, surrounding me like a sea of phantoms. But now, they seemed distant, insignificant. I could feel their presence, but there was no longer any real threat. The final, true monster had been dealt with, and the illusions were nothing more than an echo of the dungeon's magic.

I stood there calmly, my estoc still glowing faintly with the remnants of the black flames from theFlame of Equinox. The real challenge had passed, and now I could move forward. I had what I needed—the cores from the real monsters.

[What are you going to do now?]

Vitaliara asked, looking at me with her curious eyes. Indeed, it was understandable that she was curious. After all, now that I have dealt with the 'real' monsters, we need to advance to the next stage.

"Didn't you say you wanted to witness a good show? It is about to come now."

It was time to put on a good show.