Abyssal Sovereign: Throne of the Null

Chapter 6: The Second Three Seconds

The acid dripped upward.

Tarn hovered in the air, twenty centimeters above the head of the Slag Shell Matriarch, with no footing, no way to change direction, and nothing except the greatsword in his hand and the shrinking gap between the tip of his blade and the monster's exposed neck. The Matriarch's jaws opened wide, its six eyes locking onto Tarn with a burning intensity, and the corrosive green liquid flowed from its lower jaw to its upper, forming an expanding umbrella of poison.

"Shard!" Tarn shouted, his voice cutting through the unnatural silence of the air. "Out! Now!"

Black vapor exploded from Tarn's shadow, forming the dog-sized obsidian beetle hovering in the air with him. Shard did not ask. It did not hesitate. It just stared at Tarn with its glowing pale purple eyes, waiting for the command.

"Get into its mouth," Tarn whispered, time seeming to slow down around them. "Fly straight down its throat. Do not stop until you feel its heart."

Shard did not blink. It just nodded once—a small, barely noticeable movement—before darting like a black bullet toward the Matriarch's open jaws.

The monster realized the threat too late.

Its jaws began to close, trying to bite Tarn who was still hovering, but Shard was already too close, too fast. The shadow beetle pierced through the acid umbrella, its body beginning to melt instantly, its shell hissing and smoking, but it did not stop. It kept flying, straight into the monster's throat, down the slimy, green-glowing esophagus.

The Matriarch shrieked.

Not a scream of anger. Not a scream of pain. It was a scream of panic—the sound of a creature realizing that its enemy was already inside it, in a place it could not reach, in a place it could not protect.

The Matriarch's jaws snapped shut, biting empty air. Tarn fell, his body slamming onto the monster's back with a loud thud. His boots slipped on the slick obsidian shell, but his hands grabbed the protruding spikes on the Matriarch's back, holding himself from sliding off.

"Null!" Tarn yelled, his voice raspy. "Hold its legs! Do not let it move!"

Below, the Tomb Warden's shadow was already moving. Null grabbed both of the Matriarch's front legs with its melted iron hands, pulling the monster backward with a force that cracked the concrete beneath it. The Matriarch struggled, trying to kick Null away, but the shadow Warden had no bones to break, no muscles to tear. It simply held on, gripping tighter every time the Matriarch tried to shake it off.

Inside the Matriarch's throat, Shard found its heart.

The shadow beetle gripped the pulsing organ with its six legs made of dark smoke, then detonated itself.

The explosion produced no fire. No sound. What it produced was a shockwave of shadows that tore the Matriarch's heart from the inside, forcing the monster to vomit all the acid in its throat—not outward, but inward.

The corrosive green liquid flowed back into the Matriarch's body, burning its internal organs, melting flesh and bone from the inside out. The previously impenetrable obsidian shell began to crack, black fractures spreading from the neck across the monster's entire body like a spiderweb made of shattered glass.

The Matriarch shrieked again—this time the scream of death.

Tarn wasted no time. He raised his greatsword high, the tip of the blade gleaming with violet light, then thrust it downward with all the strength he possessed.

The heavy blade pierced through the already cracked shell, entering the pulsing pink flesh of the Matriarch's neck, pinning the monster to the resin floor.

The Matriarch thrashed. Its horse-sized body shook its head frantically, trying to dislodge Tarn who was still riding its back. Its jagged tail whipped backward, grabbing Tarn's ankle and pulling him down.

"Tarn!" someone shouted—not Shard, not Null. The voice came from inside his own head, from the system warning him.

[Warning: Player is taking physical damage.] [Health: 78% ➔ 64% ➔ 51%]

Tarn ignored the notification. He gripped the hilt of the greatsword with both hands, trying to twist the blade inside the wound to increase the damage, but the Matriarch was too strong. The monster straightened its body, lifting Tarn into the air, then slamming him onto the floor with a force that cracked his ribs.

Crack.

Tarn hit the resin floor, air draining from his lungs. His greatsword was still stuck in the Matriarch's neck, but Tarn was no longer riding the monster. He rolled to the side, trying to get up, but the Matriarch's tail had already whipped around again, slamming into his waist and sending him sliding three meters away.

"Damn it," Tarn hissed, spitting blood. "It's still alive."

The Matriarch thrashed, trying to pull the greatsword from its neck with its front leg, but the blade was too deep, jammed all the way to the hilt. The monster screamed in frustration, its six eyes rolling wildly, searching for the next threat.

Tarn rose, his legs shaking. His ribs hurt every time he drew a breath, but he forced himself to stand straight. He stared at the Matriarch, his eyes narrowing, his brain racing.

"Null," Tarn called out, his voice calmer now. "Can you still fight?"

The shadow Warden nodded, its melted chestplate already starting to reform from the black smoke.

"Good. Attack from the back. Draw it to turn around. Give me three seconds—just three seconds—where its neck is open again."

Null did not answer with words. It simply lifted its greatsword and stepped forward, tapping its still-smoking chestplate with one iron hand.

The Matriarch saw Null approaching. Its jaws opened—acid began to gather, ready to spew.

"Now, Null!" Tarn shouted.

The shadow Warden lunged forward, its greatsword swinging in a vertical arc targeting the Matriarch's head. The monster reacted—turning to face the new threat, its neck exposed, the pulsing pink flesh clearly visible.

Tarn wasted no time.

He darted forward, the spare greatsword he had taken from the Tomb Warden's corpse in Chapter 1 still tucked at his waist—not a shadow, but real iron that he had carried from the start. He pulled it out, the blade gleaming with violet light as he infused it with mana.

Three seconds.

That was all he had.

Tarn leaped, his body hovering in the air, the iron greatsword in his hand raised high. He targeted the Matriarch's exposed neck, the place where the obsidian shell did not protect it, the place where that pink flesh pulsed defenselessly.

The Matriarch realized the threat too late.

The monster tried to turn back, tried to close its neck, tried to spew acid—but Null was already there, the shadow Warden's greatsword stabbing into the Matriarch's shoulder, holding it in place, forcing it to keep turning, forcing it to stay exposed.

Tarn landed.

The iron greatsword pierced the Matriarch's neck, entering the flesh, cutting arteries, cutting nerves, cutting everything that kept the monster alive. Pitch-black blood spurted out, drenching Tarn's face, drenching his armor, drenching the resin floor beneath him.

The Matriarch screamed for the last time.

Its horse-sized body convulsed, its legs kicking the air, its tail thrashing aimlessly. Its six eyes, which previously glowed with venom-green, began to fade, turning gray, then black, then dead.

The monster collapsed.

Silence.

Tarn stood over the corpse, his breathing ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Blood dripped from the acid burns on his shoulder, from the scratch on his waist, from the crack in his ribs. The iron greatsword in his hand was still stuck in the Matriarch's neck, the blade gleaming with a slowly fading violet light.

"Four minutes," Tarn muttered, his voice raspy. "Four minutes to kill a Rank-E Elite boss. I need to be faster than this."

He pulled his greatsword from the Matriarch's neck, the blade stained with thick black blood. He wiped it on his already torn armor, then tucked it back into his waist.

[Slag Shell Matriarch defeated.] [Experience gained. You have leveled up!] [Level 3 ➔ Level 5] [Strength increased by 3. Agility increased by 2. Intelligence increased by 1.] [Shadow Capacity increased: 2/7 ➔ 3/7]

Tarn ignored the notification for a moment. He was too tired, too injured, too focused on the breath he could still draw. He stared at the Matriarch's corpse beneath his feet, his eyes narrowing.

"Now," Tarn whispered, kneeling beside the monster's corpse. "Time for you to work for me."

He reached out his hand, his palm facing the Matriarch's corpse. The shadow beneath the corpse began to spin, thin black vapor seeping from the cracks in its shell, struggling against the physical world—

A sharp, bell-like chime vibrated directly inside Tarn's skull.

Not the usual notification chime. Not the level up chime. This was different—deeper, louder, more urgent.

[Warning: Anomaly detected.]

Tarn froze. His hand was still stretched over the Matriarch's corpse, but his attention had already shifted to the violet interface appearing in his vision. The text did not blink as usual. The text pulsed, blood-red, in all capital letters.

[Anomaly detected. An external entity is scanning this dungeon.] [Someone is peeking from the outside.]

Tarn turned sharply, his eyes sweeping the room. The resin nest was empty—only the Matriarch's corpse, the corpses of the beetles he had killed in Chapter 4, and Null standing beside him with its greatsword raised. There was no one. There was nothing.

Yet the system said someone was peeking.

"Null," Tarn whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you feel anything?"

The shadow Warden turned, its red eyes sweeping the room. It nodded slowly—once, twice—before pointing toward the resin wall in the corner of the room.

Tarn followed the direction of its point.

There, on the black resin wall pulsing like a giant pair of lungs, was a crack. Not an ordinary crack—the crack was glowing, flashing with a pale blue light that should not exist inside an instant dungeon. And through that crack, Tarn saw something that made his blood freeze.

A face.

The face of a young woman with short black hair, wide brown eyes, and an Aurelian Vanguard uniform that was too big for her body. She was holding a scanning device in her hand—a small silver tool with a blue holographic screen displaying the dungeon map and Tarn's mana signature.

And she was staring straight at Tarn.

Through the crack in reality, through the dungeon wall, through a distance that a human eye should not be able to pierce—the woman saw him.

Her lips moved. No sound was heard, but Tarn could read the motion.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Tarn stared at the woman, his eyes narrowing, his brain racing. He did not know her. He had never seen her before. But she wore the Aurelian Vanguard uniform—the same guild as Stellan, the same guild as the elites who left him to die.

"Who are you?" Tarn whispered, even though he knew the woman could not hear him.

The woman did not answer. She only raised her scanning device higher, her fingers dancing across the holographic screen, recording—

Tarn did not wait.

He rose, the iron greatsword in his hand raised high, then slashed it toward the crack with all the strength he possessed.

The heavy blade slammed into the resin wall, piercing through the crack, shattering the pale blue light into a thousand pieces. The woman screamed—Tarn could not hear it, but he could see her mouth wide open, her eyes wide—before the crack closed, vanishing, leaving only the black resin wall pulsing as usual.

Silence.

Tarn lowered his greatsword, his breathing ragged. He stared at the wall, his eyes narrowing.

"Null," Tarn called out, his voice low. "Did she record anything?"

The shadow Warden nodded slowly.

Tarn cursed under his breath. He did not know who the woman was, but he knew one thing—he was no longer alone. Someone knew he was still alive. Someone knew he was inside this dungeon. Someone was peeking.

And someone would come looking for him.