Eldritch Assassin: Reincarnated With An SSS-Rank Devouring System
Chapter 79: Eighth Floor

Chapter 79: Eighth Floor

Kael’s body dissolved into light as the golden radiance lifted him. There was no feeling of movement, no rush of wind or pressure on his skin, just the fading hum of the runes behind him.

Then—

His boots touched solid ground. A dull clang echoed underfoot.

He blinked. "Fog."

Thick, gray, and heavy like soaked cloth clung to everything around him. Shapes loomed in the mist—twisted shadows, motionless. The air was cold here. Not freezing like essence-cold, but wrong. Still. Breathless.

A chime rang deep in his ear, low and metallic.

———

[Floor 8: Trial of Illusion – Navigate this battlefield where allies become enemies and false enemies appear.

Goal: Test intelligence, decision-making, calmness under pressure, and inner balance.]

———

Kael narrowed his eyes. The system didn’t lie, but it never told the full truth either. Every floor had its own weight, its own pattern. This one? This one was silent and smelt of deceit. A battlefield that didn’t start with blood, but confusion.

His hand instinctively hovered near his waist. His dagger wasn’t drawn yet. He didn’t even know if he’d need it.

The fog stirred and a shape stepped forward.

Kael’s breath caught in his throat. "Mira?" he muttered.

It was not some illusion of her, not a projection or memory. No, she looked exactly as she had in her last moments—eyes fierce, hair damp from sweat, her tunic torn and blood-soaked. Her staff rested lightly in her hand.

Kael’s feet refused to move.

She looked up. Their eyes met.

"Kael..." her voice trembled, yet her stance was perfect. "You let me die."

His chest tightened. ’No. This isn’t real.’

He took a slow step back, hand now gripping his hilt.

"Mira is dead," he whispered.

She advanced. "You let me die. You never came while I screamed your name."

Each word hit like a hammer to his ribs. Her eyes weren’t glassy or dull like a ghost. They burned. Alive. The accusation felt real.

Kael’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. His stance slipped. His blade almost drew—almost.

But he caught himself.

"Illusion."

The trial was about perception. False enemies. False allies.

He closed his eyes. When they opened again, she was gone.

Only the fog remained.

Kael exhaled, sharp and shallow.

He moved forward. Quietly. Slowly. Each step he took was measured, listening for more than sound—listening for distortion. Pressure. The subtle pull of illusion.

It didn’t take long.

A voice—male—barked an order in the distance. Steel clashed.

Kael crouched near a shattered column as the fog parted again. This time, it wasn’t Mira.

It was his team from the forest trial.

Lysara stood with her blade drawn, facing off against three others. The tension was real. He could hear the ragged breath, see the flickers of aura pulsing from her shoulders.

But her eyes...

They were blank... Dead.

"No aura fluctuation in her essence core," Kael muttered. "Not real."

One of the men behind her lunged forward, his blade aimed for her heart.

Kael flinched, almost rushing forward, but then he stopped.

The illusion didn’t react.

It froze in place, mid-strike. The fog thickened, and in a slow ripple, the image dissolved. The air crackled with faint laughter, distant and cruel.

"A trap for the impulsive." he muttered.

Each illusion was layered with not just people. They were emotions, guilt, reflex. This trial wasn’t about strength. It was about unraveling yourself.

Kael moved again. The path narrowed.

He stepped through a broken archway—and the scene changed entirely.

The fog lifted slightly.

He was in the middle of a courtyard. Cracked stone tiles lined the ground. Pools of stagnant water shimmered faintly. Across from him—ten meters away—stood a familiar figure.

"Dorian Valcroft" he said, gritting his teeth.

Kael’s jaw tensed.

Dorian tilted his head. "Surprised to see me, Kael?"

His voice carried the same arrogant chill. The same confidence.

Kael didn’t answer.

Dorian grinned. "You never really beat me, you know. That fight at the Dungeon? I was holding back."

The illusion started pacing.

Kael didn’t move, he analyzed. Every step Alaric took didn’t disturb the dust. There were no pressure, no ripple of essence under his feet.

’Fake... But perfect.’ he smirked.

"I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself," Dorian said. "Draw your blade."

Kael didn’t respond.

The illusion blurred, and in a flash—Dorian struck.

Kael’s dagger shot up.

Clang!

The illusion was solid now.

Kael stumbled backward from the force. The strike had weight. Overwhelming power.

His hand trembled slightly as he blocked again—barely.

’What is this?’ he thought.

Illusions were supposed to break on contact. This one adapted, grew.

A new system prompt shimmered before him.

[Sub-trial Triggered: Adaptive Shadow Construct – defeat or reject the manifestation.]

Of course.

The trial didn’t just lie. It tested how far it could push before breaking you.

Kael gritted his teeth. He didn’t just fight now—he thought as he fought.

Dorian’s rhythm was off. Too clean and predictable.

He parried once—twice—and then pivoted.

"Stop copying his movements," Kael muttered.

On the third exchange, he let his dagger drop. Alaric’s sword came in—and Kael sidestepped.

Then, he grabbed falling blade’s hilt and stabbed. Right through the heart.

The illusion flickered.

Dorian smiled. "Still weak boy I knew."

Kael twisted the blade. "Shut the fuck up."

Light exploded outward. The courtyard vanished. He was back in the mist all alone.

Kael exhaled, drenched in sweat.

His body hadn’t taken damage. But his heart raced like he’d run ten miles. That wasn’t a fight of blade against blade. It was pressure, doubt, and precision.

"Can’t keep reacting," he muttered. "I need to read the illusion’s flow. Catch the seams."

He moved on. The mist stirred again.

This time... laughter. His own.

Ahead, a version of him stood—taller, broader, cloaked in dark threads of primal energy. He was surrounded by kneeling figures. Opponents. Allies. Subordinates.

All Dead.

Kael’s double turned slowly.

"I stopped playing hero," it said, a proud grin spreading on its face. "And look where it got me. Above all and below none."

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