I Leveled Up Faster Than The Gods Themselves
Chapter 10: The Weight That Will Not Move
Ryn remained motionless for a moment that felt like an eternity.
He lay sprawled on the cold, unyielding stone floor of the Guild Hall corridor, his body aching and weary. His chest rose and fell in a ragged rhythm, every breath a laborious task that scraped against his ribs like rough sandpaper. The once-roiling walls around him had finally settled into stillness, but the intricate runes painstakingly etched into the stone beneath him pulsed faintly, glowing with a faint luminescence as if they were aware of his struggle and were watching him as he gathered his strength.
Beside him, Seris knelt with a look of concern etched across her features. One of her hands hovered uncertainly near his shoulder, an instinctual gesture of comfort tainted by her fear that even the lightest touch might shatter him into a thousand fragile pieces.
"You just changed the rules," she had stated earlier, her voice a mixture of awe and apprehension.
With great effort, Ryn exhaled slowly, the sound barely escaping his lips.
"No," he croaked, his throat raw. "I just learned how heavy I'm allowed to be."
The silence that followed was suddenly shattered by the Guild Hall itself, responding to his declaration with a violent intensity.
The corridor shuddered under the weight of heavy armored footsteps that thundered from both ends. Torches along the walls flared to life with an angry brightness, revealing sinister figures clad in sleek black steel, each bearing the unmistakable sigil of the Guild Lords-a broken crown pierced by a single, menacing blade.
Enforcers.
Elite ones, no less.
Seris tensed beside him, her body rigid with anxiety. "They shouldn't be here this fast," she whispered, concern lining her voice.
Ryn gritted his teeth and forced himself into a sitting position, wincing as the cold stone scraped against him. He planted his sword against the ground, using it as leverage to steady himself despite the pain coursing through his body.
"Guess I passed the trial," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with bitter realization. "And failed the secrecy portion."
The lead enforcer stepped forward, raising a gauntleted hand as though to command them to silence.
"Ryn Arcten," the man intoned in a deep, authoritative voice that echoed ominously down the corridor. "By decree of the Guild Lords, you are to be detained for unauthorized ascension activity."
Ryn didn't even need to ask what that ominous decree entailed. He already understood all too well what lay ahead-it would mean chains and confinement.
Without thinking, Seris surged to her feet, stepping protectively in front of him. Her voice was unwavering despite the tremor that betrayed her fear. "You can't take him," she insisted, standing firm against the cold gaze of the enforcer. "He hasn't broken any law."
The enforcer's eyes flicked dismissively toward her, holding no trace of compassion. "The law is written by those who survive," he retorted coldly. "Step aside."
Ryn felt an uneasy tightening in his grip on his sword. The possibility of them taking him weighed heavily on his mind.
If they succeeded-
Ashfield would never see him again.
Nor would she.
The corridor they stood in was narrow, the stone walls lined with rune conduits pulsing faintly in tandem with their escalating tension. The ceiling loomed low, a sinister reminder of the cramped confines that would be a stage for close-quarters combat. The floor bore the marks of past confrontations, old scorch marks etched into the stone, silent witnesses to those who had resisted in the face of inevitable betrayal.
This oppressive space wasn't designed for grand displays of power. It was crafted with a far more sinister purpose-to crush any flicker of defiance silently and thoroughly, quelling rebellion before it could flare into a blaze.
Ryn allowed a faint smile to creep onto his face, the kind that held a dash of defiance mixed with resignation.
"Too bad," he whispered, his voice barely above the hum of the torches. "I don't do quietly."
With a synchronized movement, the enforcers advanced, their imposing figures closing in. Knowing he had to act, Ryn stepped forward with determination, placing himself squarely between them and Seris, blocking her from imminent harm.
"I'm not running," he declared loudly, the weight of conviction filling his voice. "And I'm not kneeling."
This showdown wasn't just about proving strength or skill-there was something deeper stirring within him, urging him to stand his ground-not just for survival, but because-
"I want to choose what happens to me."
In an instant, the first enforcer lunged forward, a swift and practiced motion that would have startled others. Ryn felt the familiar spike of adrenaline-fueled fear-his body screamed to dodge, to retreat, to find safety.
But instead, he planted his feet like iron.
World Anchor activated.
The blow hit him like the collapse of an entire building, forceful and overwhelming-but rather than yielding, he remained resolute, anchored to the spot.
The force rippled outward, cracking the floor beneath him, sending tremors radiating through the stone-but Ryn didn't budge, unwavering as the enforcer recoiled in confusion.
"What-?" the enforcer faltered, disbelief clinging to his voice.
Ryn looked down at his boots, still planted firmly on the ground, then raised his gaze to meet the enforcer's bewildered expression.
"Yeah," he said quietly, a hint of satisfaction threading through his words. "That's new."
Reacting swiftly, Ryn launched an immediate counterattack, channeling the same controlled kinetic release he was accustomed to. A compact shockwave surged forth, slamming into the enforcer's chest with precision and power, propelling him backward into the unforgiving wall with a sickening thud.
No power wasted.
No skills neglected.
Everything he had learned stacked against his foes.
But two more enforcers advanced simultaneously, and Ryn braced himself. He activated World Anchor once more-but the strain on his body hit him like a tidal wave, vision blurring at the edges, veins igniting with painful fire beneath his skin.
Too long.
Too much.
"So this is the cost," he realized grimly, steeling himself for the impending challenge.
Though he managed to maintain the World Anchor-just barely-it was becoming increasingly demanding, and he knew he couldn't hold on indefinitely.
With a moment of clarity borne of desperation, Ryn deliberately released the anchor. He wasn't collapsing under the pressure he was redirecting it.
As another strike came, he twisted aside, evading the enforcer's blow with practiced ease, allowing the momentum from the attack to carry the armored figure past him-right into the waiting knee of Seris.
She didn't falter, didn't hesitate for an instant. The enforcer fell hard to the ground, and Ryn watched the scene unfold, a mix of pride and amazement bubbling within him.
Seris looked down at her hands afterwards, clearly shocked by her own decisive actions. "I didn't think," she whispered, the weight of realization dawning on her.
Ryn glanced at her, a genuine smile breaking across his face, and his heart swelled with a new understanding. "That's how you know it mattered," he replied softly, feeling the bond between them strengthen in this moment of shared defiance. They were far from finished, and he could sense the tide beginning to shift in their favor.
The corridor reverberated ominously with the blaring of alarms that filled the air, an unsettling warning of impending conflict.
Footfalls echoed ominously, growing louder, signaling a new wave of adversaries approaching.
Seris, her expression troubled, grasped the fabric of Ryn's sleeve tightly, her voice low and urgent. "Ryn, we can't take on all of them," she pleaded, urgency etched into her words.
Ryn, recognizing the gravity of their situation, nodded slowly, his eyes revealing a mix of determination and grim acceptance.
"I know," he replied, the weight of their circumstances pressing down on him.
His gaze shifted back to the reinforced door behind them, its sturdy frame a silent witness to their plight.
"But I can buy us some time," he asserted, a glimmer of resolve igniting within him.
Seris's eyes widened in alarm, her fears crystallizing in that moment. "You'll die," she voiced the dreadful truth that hung heavily over them.
Ryn met her apprehensive gaze with unwavering steadiness, his determination unshakeable.
"Maybe," he murmured contemplatively. "But not before I make my own decision about the matter."
With that, he turned his focus back to the chaotic corridor, his sword lifting high in preparation for the oncoming storm.
As the next wave of foes surged forward, something profound shifted within him-not the birth of a new skill or ability, but rather a deep-rooted mastery over the very essence of his being.
The World Anchor hummed to life once again.
This time, however-
It felt instinctual, as if he were in tune with the very fabric of the hall around him.
The Guild Hall trembled, trembling as if it were attuned to him, acknowledging his presence and his newfound strength.
Ryn stood his ground, unyielding as the blade whirled in his hands, each strike executed with precision, every step measured and intentional.
He wasn't acting recklessly he was fueled by a firm resolve.
Finally, amidst the chaos, the piercing blast of a horn resonated throughout the corridor, signalling a retreat.
The enforcers, sensing the shift in the tide, withdrew-not vanquished, but undeniably cautious.
The lead officer, a figure of authority and intimidation, pointed an accusatory finger at Ryn, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't over," he declared, a note of menace lacing his words. "The Guild Lords are keeping an eye on you now."
Ryn, his breath steadying, slowly lowered his sword, feeling the weight of the moment settle around him.
"Good," he replied, a defiant tone creeping into his voice. "Tell them to keep watching."
As the tension dissipated and the corridor fell into a heavy silence, Ryn leaned back against the wall, his body heavy, exhaustion catching up with him now that the adrenaline was ebbing away.
Seris immediately reached out to him again-this time, her grip lacked hesitation, filled instead with concern.
"You're insane," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, echoing the swirling mix of admiration and worry in her heart.
Ryn chuckled weakly at her remark, a sense of bittersweet humor crossing his features.
"Yeah," he admitted, the laughter tinged with self-awareness. "But I'm still here."
She studied him closely, her gaze piercing through the layers of bravado, as if she were seeing the depths of him for the first time. "You're not just surviving anymore," she observed, an earnestness brimming in her tone.
Ryn closed his eyes, the waves of fatigue finally crashing down upon him like a tidal force.
"No," he murmured softly, the weight of his choices settling heavily on his shoulders. "I'm choosing."
As the haunting glow of the Guild Hall's runes dimmed, a profound stillness enveloped the space.
Far above, high in the lofty chambers of power-
The Guild Lords began to strategize, their minds working like cogs in a dark and intricate machine, plotting their next moves against a force that had only just begun to rise.
To be continued...