Chapter 247 Skipping Floors of the Skyfall Tower

Chapter 247  Skipping Floors of the Skyfall Tower

How could the same cloaked figure be there? Damian pondered this question, his mind racing to find an explanation. The figure's appearance in the coliseum, beyond the confines of the tower's staircase, defied all logic. Was this entity an external force, like himself, who had found their way into the tower? Or could it be something more sinister, a manifestation of the tower itself?

Damian's thoughts flickered back to his encounters with the tower's inhabitants. The mermaids he had encountered had mentioned their ability to traverse the tower's floors at will. Could it be possible that this cloaked figure possessed a similar ability, granting them access to areas beyond their immediate surroundings?

Uncertainty gnawed at Damian's mind as he confronted the figure, his grip tightening around his sword. The enigmatic being wore that same chilling smile, their presence an unsettling reminder of the torment he had endured within the coliseum.

"I told you we would meet again. How was your time here, Damian?" the figure taunted, their voice laced with a mix of amusement and malice.

Damian's voice dripped with contempt as he retorted, "Quite harsh. I almost met my end more times than I can count."

The figure erupted in laughter, their amusement echoing through the coliseum. "Good, good. That's exactly what I wanted," they hissed, reveling in Damian's suffering.

Fury surged within Damian's veins. Who was this figure, and what did they hope to achieve by subjecting him to this torment? The lack of answers only fueled his determination to confront them head-on.

"Bastard," Damian spat, his resolve hardening. He knew he couldn't let this entity crush his spirit. He would fight back, no matter the odds stacked against him.

Without warning, the figure swiftly retrieved a wooden staff from behind their back. With a fluid motion, they unleashed a devastating thunderbolt that streaked towards Damian, striking him square in the chest. The impact was immense, the force throwing him backward and into the coliseum walls. Pain exploded throughout his body, and he couldn't suppress the cough that expelled a splatter of blood onto the ground.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy of applause and cheers, reveling in Damian's suffering. Their voices melded into a chorus of callous spectators, indifferent to the plight of the fighters. "That boy was doing well, but it's impossible against the owner of the coliseum," some whispered, their words laced with a sense of resignation. "Right. No matter how good they are, they always perish," others murmured, as if it were an accepted truth.

Damian gritted his teeth, the taste of blood still lingering on his tongue. The pain surged through his battered body, threatening to overwhelm him. But amidst the sea of jeering voices, a flicker of defiance burned within him. He refused to accept his impending defeat as inevitable.

With great effort, Damian pushed himself upright, using the coliseum wall as support. He met the mocking gaze of the cloaked figure once more, determination shining in his eyes. The fight was far from over. Though his chances seemed slim, he would rise to his feet, ready to challenge the owner of the coliseum and their cruel reign.

"Oh?" the cloaked figure sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're still alive? Not bad."

The condescending tone fueled Damian's determination, igniting a spark of defiance within him. He refused to stand idly and accept the figure's taunts as truth.

However, the challenge ahead seemed insurmountable. Damian was stripped of his powers and reduced to a mere mortal, facing off against a formidable mage. The odds were stacked against him, but he refused to succumb to despair. He had come too far to give up now.

To Damian's surprise, the cloaked figure removed his hood, revealing a face that mirrored his own. Shock and confusion swirled within him, and the crowd watching the spectacle was equally taken aback. Some even rubbed their eyes, questioning the reality of the situation.

"What the fuck? What's happening here?" Damian exclaimed, struggling to make sense of the inexplicable resemblance.

The mage smirked, relishing in Damian's bewilderment. "Surprised? You see, there are many strange things inside this tower. I wonder who built it?" he mused, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Before Damian could process the revelation, the mage swung his staff once again, casting a thunderbolt that struck Damian's left leg with searing force. Pain seared through his body, rendering his leg useless. But Damian refused to surrender. With sheer determination, he pulled himself up, using the coliseum wall for support, his one remaining leg serving as his only means of mobility.

"Do you have any last words?" the mage sneered, reveling in his imminent victory.

Just as hope seemed to fade, the coliseum gate swung open, unleashing a colossal serpent. Towering over 20 meters in height, the snake commanded attention. The mage, startled by the unexpected turn of events, blinked away to safety, realizing the snake's presence was beyond his control.

"How are you here? I control this place!" the mage exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration.

However, the serpent paid no heed to the mage's words. Instead, it turned its gaze toward Damian, addressing him in a familiar tongue.

"You can understand me, right?" the serpent spoke.

Damian nodded, his mind racing to comprehend the situation. "Yes, I can understand you," he replied.

The serpent's voice held a sense of urgency as it continued, "Listen to me carefully. You are not on the fourth floor; this is floor 38 of the Skyfall Tower. The mage you face is a mere illusion, capable of manipulating your dreams and luring you into this false reality."

Damian's eyes widened in disbelief. "Floor 38? That can't be. I was heading to the fourth floor!" he protested.

The serpent appeared momentarily perplexed before clarifying, "Something in your possession created me, and I exist solely to guide you. Focus your mind, believe that everything here is an illusion, and you will awaken from this dream."

A mix of determination and caution surged within Damian. He absorbed the serpent's words, realizing the true nature of his predicament. The mage, once formidable in his eyes, was now reduced to nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

A smile curled on Damian's lips as he faced the illusory mage. "You're right. It's just you and me now."

With unwavering conviction, Damian concentrated his thoughts, rejecting the false reality that had ensnared him. The coliseum walls crumbled, the crowd's cheers faded into distant echoes, and the dream began to unravel.

As the illusion shattered, Damian found himself standing in a dense jungle, where sunlight struggled to penetrate the thick canopy. Before him, a tiny blue mushroom trembled with fear, pleading for its life.

Damian regarded the trembling creature with a mixture of curiosity and caution. He had learned not to trust appearances alone in this strange tower.

"Listen," the mushroom stammered, "I didn't mean to cause any harm. Please, spare me."

The mushroom was the reason Damian was stuck inside that strange dream, and if it wasn't for that snake, maybe Damian would be forever stuck.

"What floor of the tower is this one?" Damian asked.

He had to be sure, and when the mushroom replied with , "38." Damian couldn't believe what was happening.

How was he there?