Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System-Chapter 480: Sixth Floor: The Chamber of Seven Seas (1)

The ground beneath the trio's feet was treacherous, an unpredictable mosaic of glossy obsidian that reflected distorted images of the cavern above. Cracks ran like veins through the terrain, their edges razor-sharp and glowing faintly as if the magma beneath was reluctant to fully relinquish its heat. Walking was a precarious task; every step required calculated precision to avoid the shards of obsidian that jutted from the ground like deadly thorns. The jagged ridges created natural barriers and narrow paths, forcing the trio to move with both caution and ingenuity.

Scattered across this alien terrain were the petrified remains of the lava lizardmen, their statuesque forms forever locked in expressions of agony and defiance. Some clutched weapons that had fused with their stone bodies, their blades dulled and lifeless. Others were caught mid-strike, their twisted postures a haunting reminder of their final moments. Small fragments of these statues littered the ground, crumbling into brittle shards that crunched underfoot, filling the cavern with a ghostly echo.

Pools of obsidian dotted the landscape, their mirror-like surfaces reflecting the faint glow of the cavern walls. Some were perfectly still, their depths unfathomable, while others rippled as if disturbed by unseen forces. Around these pools, the cooling process had created strange, concentric rings of blackened rock, giving the illusion of ripples frozen in time. Occasionally, the surface of a pool would crack, releasing a sharp hiss of steam as trapped heat escaped into the cavern.

The cavern walls themselves were an imposing sight. Layers of hardened magma formed grotesque murals of frozen chaos, with streaks of red and orange snaking through the blackened surfaces like the veins of some ancient, sleeping beast. Stalactites hung ominously from the ceiling, their sharp points glistening with moisture that dripped steadily onto the floor below. Some of these stalactites were connected to the ground by thin, glassy columns, creating natural pillars that added to the cathedral-like majesty of the space.

The air, once blistering and suffocating, was now cool and heavy with the scent of sulfur and ash. Every breath carried a faint metallic tang, a reminder of the volcanic forces that had shaped this domain. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant tremors that echoed through the cavern like the heartbeat of the earth itself. These tremors sent subtle vibrations through the ground, causing the pools of obsidian to quiver and the faint crystalline veins in the walls to shimmer momentarily.

The trio moved cautiously through the obsidian expanse, their footsteps echoing faintly against the glassy terrain. The terrain shifted subtly as they progressed, the jagged ridges giving way to a smoother, more polished surface that reflected the faint luminescence of the cavern walls. The spires of volcanic rock became less frequent, replaced by long, sweeping arches of obsidian that seemed to frame their path like the ribs of a long-dead colossus.

In the distance, a structure loomed into view—a massive, ornate gateway carved directly into the obsidian wall. The entrance to the sixth floor of the dungeon was an imposing sight: twin pillars of black stone rose high into the air, their surfaces etched with glowing red runes that pulsed faintly, like the steady rhythm of a beating heart. Between the pillars, a swirling, fiery vortex shimmered, its edges crackling with arcs of heat and energy that suggested the immense power it contained. The air around the portal was noticeably warmer, a stark contrast to the coolness of the obsidian cavern, and a faint hum of energy vibrated through the ground beneath their feet.

As they approached, the trio slowed, their earlier urgency tempered by the realization of what lay ahead. Cyrus glanced at the portal, then back at his companions, his usual smirk replaced by a thoughtful expression. "So, I'm guessing this is where things get even worse," he said, breaking the silence.

Jesua stretched her arms over her head, rolling her shoulders with a tired sigh. "I don't think worse even begins to cover it. But before we step into… whatever that is," she said, gesturing at the swirling vortex, "I vote we take a break. My legs are killing me, and I'm about two minutes away from kicking one of you just to make myself feel better."

Sylus gave a wry chuckle, dropping to sit on a smooth section of obsidian. "Right, because nothing screams 'prepared for hell' like going in with half a tank. Fine by me. I'm all for not being roasted alive before lunch."

Cyrus sat down next to Sylus, leaning back on his hands as he glanced at the petrified remains of a nearby lava lizardman. "Do you think they ever had downtime?" he asked, nodding toward the statue. "You know, lizard picnics? Lava volleyball? Or was it all just 'grr, fight, burn everything' twenty-four-seven?"

Jesua snorted, leaning against one of the nearby spires. "If they did, I doubt it ended well. Probably 'grr, fight, accidentally burn the sandwiches.'" She shook her head, a faint grin tugging at her lips. "You're ridiculous."

Sylus pulled a flask from his belt and took a long drink before passing it to Jesua. "He's not wrong, though. Those lizardmen were intense. I mean, did you see the one with the flaming sword? Guy was swinging like his life depended on it."

"His life did depend on it," Jesua pointed out, taking a sip from the flask before tossing it to Cyrus. "Not that it helped him. What was it you yelled at him? 'Nice try, flame brain?'"

Cyrus grinned, catching the flask and taking a drink. "Hey, it was effective. Distracted him just long enough for Sylus to clock him in the jaw. Teamwork, baby."

Sylus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, real heroic. You're lucky he didn't barbecue you on the spot."

They fell into a comfortable rhythm of banter, the tension of the earlier battle slowly ebbing away. Jesua pulled out a small piece of bread from her pack, tearing it into pieces and tossing one at Cyrus, who caught it with exaggerated flair. Sylus, ever the pragmatist, began sharpening his blade with a small whetstone, the metallic scrape oddly soothing in the quiet.

After a while, Jesua stood, brushing off her pants and stretching again. "Alright, break's over. Let's get moving before we start getting too comfortable. The last thing we need is to feel like this place is safe."

Cyrus got to his feet, tossing the flask back to Sylus. "Let's hope the sixth floor doesn't have more fire. I've had enough of being toasted for one day."

Sylus slid the flask into his pack and hefted his weapon. "Knowing our luck, it'll be ice. And we'll still hate it."

Jesua smirked, turning toward the glowing portal. "Well, only one way to find out. Let's go see what fresh hell awaits us."

As the trio stepped through the shimmering gateway to the sixth floor, a sudden change in atmosphere enveloped them. They found themselves submerged in a vast, otherworldly underwater world. The weightlessness was immediately noticeable, their movements slightly sluggish but still functional, as though the water itself had been enchanted to allow for a semblance of normality. Each breath felt damp and heavy but miraculously possible, a subtle magic weaving through the environment to sustain them.

The 𝘮ost uptodat𝑒 novels are pub𝙡ished on freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

The floor stretched endlessly in every direction, bathed in an eerie, ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. Massive coral structures, like undersea skyscrapers, towered above and around them, their surfaces alive with an array of vibrant, shifting colors—crimson, gold, azure, and violet. Each branch of coral seemed to pulse faintly, as if it were breathing in time with the soft, rhythmic currents that wound their way through the expanse. Tendrils of bioluminescent light spiraled outward from these structures, intertwining to form a web of soft luminescence that stretched into the dark, watery abyss beyond.

Between these coral giants lay open spaces, some vast and tranquil, others cluttered with the scattered remnants of a lost civilization. Ancient temples, their grandeur now cloaked in the mystery of time, stood silently as if guarding secrets of the deep. These ruins were carved from a strange, barnacle-covered stone, their surfaces roughened by centuries of exposure to the relentless ocean currents. Columns and archways, many of them broken or leaning precariously, were etched with faded, cryptic symbols that glowed faintly under the bioluminescent light. Some sections of these temples had collapsed entirely, half-swallowed by the shifting sands that coated the cavern floor like a delicate veil.

The ground beneath their feet was a patchwork of textures, a mixture of soft, shifting sands that stirred with every step, and jagged, barnacle-encrusted stone that threatened to catch on their boots. Here and there, shimmering pools of water seemed to defy the laws of the environment, their glassy surfaces reflecting the flickering lights above like dark, enchanted mirrors. Schools of tiny, luminescent fish darted across the terrain, their collective glow briefly illuminating hidden crevices, sunken statues, and ancient carvings. Among these smaller creatures, larger, more ominous shapes moved at the edges of visibility, their forms distorted by the water but unmistakably alive. They prowled silently, their glowing eyes betraying their predatory intent.