Death Guns In Another World

Chapter 2082: The Descent

The silence of the first floor was a transient thing, broken only by the moaning wind that now seemed to carry the ghosts of the fallen orcs. A shimmering portal of ice, humming with latent energy, materialized at the far end of the tundra. Without a word, Alex and Saeko stepped through, the glacial cold of the first floor instantly replaced by a damp, oppressive heat.

The second floor was the Tanglewood—a petrified forest frozen in a moment of primordial violence. The trees were not of wood, but of gleaming, black obsidian, their branches like shattered glass claws against a cavern ceiling dripping with glowing green phosphorescence. The ”ground” was a treacherous bog of bubbling, acidic mud that released plumes of noxious, yellow gas. The air reeked of rot and sulfur.

This was a hunterʼs floor.

They had taken only a few steps into the gloom when the shadows in the obsidian trees began to move. Slinking from behind the glassy trunks were creatures of nightmare—Fungal Stalkers. They were panther-like in shape, but their bodies were a pulsating tapestry of phosphorescent mushrooms and fibrous mycelium. They moved in utter silence, their multiple, lidless eyes glowing with a faint, malevolent light. They didnʼt roar; they communicated through a psychic hum that set their teeth on edge, a sound that spoke of a single, hive-minded hunger.

”A different kind of challenge,” Saeko murmured, her hand resting on the hilt of her katana. Close-quarters combat here would be a deadly game of positioning, one misstep away from a corrosive bath.

”Letʼs clear the field first,” Alex replied, his magi-tech revolver already in his hand.

The Stalkers moved as one, a coordinated pounce from three different directions. Alex didnʼt target the creatures directly. Instead, he poured a different kind of mana into his weapon. The barrel glowed a bright, searing orange. Crack-hiss! The mana bullet struck not a Stalker, but the base of an obsidian tree near the lead creature. On impact, it erupted not in force, but in a wave of purifying, solar fire. The intense heat and light washed over the Stalker, causing the fungi on its body to blacken, smoke, and shrivel. The creature let out a silent, psychic shriek of agony and recoiled, its movements becoming jerky and uncoordinated.

He fired again and again, not to kill, but to sterilize. Each shot was a controlled burst of incendiary energy that scorched the terrain, creating safe islands of clean rock and driving the light-sensitive creatures back into the deeper shadows. The Tanglewood, once a place of ambush, was now being systematically lit and cleansed by his strategic gunfire.

This was Saekoʼs signal. With the immediate terrain secured, she became a whirlwind of targeted death. She couldnʼt use wide, sweeping arcs for fear of the acidic bog, so her movements became even more precise, almost surgical. She used the obsidian trees as springboards, the wind cushioning her landings on the narrow, safe patches Alex created.

A Stalker lunged from a branch above. She met it in mid-air, her katana a silver streak. Instead of a slash, she executed a series of lightning-fast, pinpoint thrusts, each one piercing a glowing fungal node on the creatureʼs body. With each puncture, the light in its eyes dimmed, until it fell limp and silent into the bog below, dissolving with a hiss.

Another tried to flank Alex, its psychic presence a cold pressure against his mind. Saeko didnʼt even look. She flicked her wrist, and a compressed blade of wind shot from the tip of her katana, slicing cleanly through the Stalkerʼs mycelial neck. Its head tumbled away, its body following a second later.

They moved through the Tanglewood like this—Alex, the methodical strategist, controlling the environment and breaking the enemyʼs coordination; Saeko, the flawless executioner, eliminating threats with breathtaking speed and precision. Within twenty minutes, the psychic hum had faded, and the only movement was the slow, bubbling plop of the bog. The second floor was conquered not by brute force, but by flawless tactical synergy.

The portal out of the Tanglewood led down, into a deep, resonant darkness. The heat intensified, becoming a dry, baking inferno. The third floor was the Crucible of Brass.

They stood on a narrow stone bridge that spanned a seemingly bottomless chasm. Below, a river of magma glowed, its light illuminating a colossal cavern. The air itself vibrated with a deep, metallic ringing. The bridge led to a wide, circular platform of polished brass, covered in ancient, glowing runes. And waiting for them, rising from the center of the platform, were the guardians.

They were not organic. They were Automatons of the Forge—hulking, humanoid constructs of gleaming brass and dark iron. They stood eight feet tall, with piston-like limbs and glowing crystal cores where their hearts should be. There were three of them, and as Alex and Saeko stepped onto the platform, their crystal cores flared to life with a hostile red light. They raised their arms, and with a screech of grinding metal, their hands retracted, replaced by spinning, serrated saw blades and projecting nozzles that immediately began to spew jets of white-hot flame.

”Okay,” Saeko said, her katana already drawn, the wind swirling around her in a protective cyclone. ”This is more direct.”

The first Automaton charged, its saw-blade arm whirring, while the second sprayed a wide arc of fire to cut off their movement. The third hung back, its core pulsing as it began to gather energy for a more powerful attack.

Saeko moved to engage the charger, her wind-enhanced speed allowing her to dance around the brutal, linear attacks. Her katana struck the brass body with a shower of sparks, but the metal was enchanted, and her blade only scored deep grooves. It was like trying to cut down an ironwood tree with a kitchen knife.

Alex assessed the situation in a heartbeat. His mana bullets would be ineffective against such heavily armored, non-organic foes. The time for ranged support was over.

”Saeko, disrupt the caster!” he commanded, his voice cutting through the din.

As she disengaged from the first Automaton and blurred toward the third, Alex finally reached for the weapon he was named for. He didnʼt summon it with a flourish. He simply closed his hand, and when he opened it, his sword was there. It was a long, unadorned blade of dark, star-forged steel, its edge seeming to drink the light from the magma glow. It pulsed once with a deep, crimson light, and a wave of palpable heat, far more intense than the Automatonʼs fire, radiated from him.

The first Automaton turned its saw-blade toward him, charging again. Alex didnʼt dodge. He met the charge. He moved with a speed that eclipsed even Saekoʼs wind-enhanced agility, his form a blur. His sword met the whirring saw-blade. There was no clang of metal. There was a shriek of shearing metal as his blade, empowered by his immense strength and the razor-edge of his fire mana, carved straight through the enchanted brass limb as if it were soft butter. The severed saw-blade clattered to the ground.

The Automaton, its programming confused by the loss of its primary weapon, hesitated for a microsecond. That was all Alex needed. He pivoted on his heel, his sword tracing a horizontal arc. A wave of crimson fire, condensed into a thin, cutting line, erupted from the blade. It passed clean through the Automatonʼs torso. The construct froze, its core flickered, and then its upper half slid from its lower half, hitting the brass platform with two resonant, heavy clangs.

Meanwhile, Saeko was a silver-and-green storm around the third Automaton. She couldnʼt pierce its armor, but she didnʼt need to. Her goal was interruption. She used the flat of her blade to batter its arms, spoiling its aim. She sent gusts of wind to destabilize its footing. When it tried to lock onto her, she became a phantom, leaving afterimages in the superheated air. The gathered energy in its core sputtered and faded, its attack foiled.

The second Automaton, seeing its companion destroyed, redirected its flame nozzle toward Alex. A torrent of liquid fire engulfed him.

Saekoʼs breath caught for a split second, but the fire parted around Alex like water around a stone. He stood unharmed within the inferno, his own dark sword now wreathed in flames of a deeper, more profound crimson. He pointed his free hand at the Automaton, and the fire obeying it suddenly rebelled. The stream of flame bent, twisted, and was sucked into a vortex in Alexʼs palm before being shot back with double the force. The reflected fire melted the nozzle and half the Automatonʼs arm into a slag of molten metal.

The construct staggered. Alex closed the distance in two strides. He didnʼt swing his sword. He simply placed the tip of it against the Automatonʼs crystal core. There was a sound like shattering diamond, and the red light within died instantly. The Automaton became a lifeless, metal statue.

The final Automaton, now isolated and with Saeko harrying it relentlessly, was easy prey. Alex approached from one side, Saeko from the other. It turned its damaged arm toward Alex, but Saeko used the opening, leaping high and bringing her katana down in a wind-powered strike on the joint of its leg. The metal buckled, and the Automaton crashed to one knee. Alex finished it with a single, downward thrust of his sword through its crystal core, pinning the massive construct to the brass floor.

The deep ringing in the cavern ceased. The only sound was the slow, gurgling flow of the magma river far below.

Saeko sheathed her katana, watching as Alex effortlessly pulled his blade from the ruined Automaton. It vanished from his hand as quickly as it had appeared.

”I see you finally decided to get serious,” she said, a note of dry admiration in her voice.

He offered a small, tired smile. ”Some tools are better for the job than others. You held its attention perfectly.”

Together, they looked at the portal that had shimmered into existence at the far end of the platform, leading deeper into the darkness.