The following days facing the Werewolf were a long chain of helplessness and gruesome deaths. Lasron had almost no way to defend against its terrifying strength and speed.
Each failure meant he had to repeat the grim process: fighting the Rage Troll, maneuvering the battle between the Black Bear and the Long-Toothed Tiger, struggling with the Red Viper, and then straining to dodge the Bloodbat's acidic blood, only to get a few brief seconds against the Werewolf before being torn apart or stunned by its ultrasonic howl.
But Lasron was not one to give up easily, at least not anymore. Zone 1 had forged an iron will in him, and this Zone 2 was continuing to temper it to its absolute limit.
He began to focus on evading the Werewolf's howl. His Resistance stat, after countless exposures to various types of damage, now seemed to have developed a certain immunity to sound waves. Initially, the howl had left him completely paralyzed, his mind reeling, all reactive capabilities lost. But gradually, the duration of his stun began to shorten slightly.
From being completely immobile for nearly ten seconds, he could now move again after seven or eight, then five or six seconds. It was a minuscule improvement, but in a life-or-death battle, every millisecond could decide survival.
He still couldn't attack the Werewolf, but he learned to use the brief recovery period after its howl to find a temporary hiding spot, or at least to minimize damage from its next attack. Even so, surviving ten minutes with the Werewolf remained an almost impossible task. Countless times he was caught, his flesh torn, his bones broken. The safe zone became a more frequent refuge than his former home had ever been.
Then, the fateful day arrived. After an unknown number of failures, countless deaths and revivals, Lasron, through a strange stroke of luck and all his accumulated experience, managed to survive ten horrific minutes with the Werewolf.
The sixth "ding" sounded, signaling that 60 minutes of the arena trial had passed. The Werewolf roared in frustration and retreated, but it didn't vanish. The Bloodbat was still circling overhead, and the Red Viper (if it had survived the Bloodbat in this particular attempt) was also slithering on the ground.
And then, Cage 7, the final cage, began to open.
An overwhelming pressure, a thick, inky malevolent aura, emanated from within the cage, making Lasron feel as if his chest were being crushed. Even the remaining monsters in the arena appeared restless, frightened.
From the cage's darkness, an entity slowly emerged. It wasn't as colossal as the Rage Troll or the Werewolf; its stature was only slightly taller than Lasron, but its entire body was covered in crimson scales, gleaming under the arena's eerie light. On its head was a pair of gracefully curved, jet-black horns, and its eyes blazed like two hellish embers. A long tail, tipped with a sharp barb, swayed gently behind it. A Crimson Daemon – Lv.35.
Upon appearing, the Crimson Daemon paid no attention to Lasron. It swept its fiery eyes over the remaining monsters: the Werewolf snarling warily, the Bloodbat circling above, and the Red Viper (in this lucky attempt, it had survived the Bloodbat's appearance).
The Daemon smirked, revealing sharp fangs, then it vanished. Or rather, it moved with a speed Lasron's naked eye couldn't follow. There were only a series of "swish! swish!" sounds, pained growls, and then, one by one, the monsters collapsed. The Red Viper was torn into several pieces. The Bloodbat was struck by a blast of dark energy, fell to the ground, and burst into flames. The Werewolf, the one that had caused Lasron so much misery, only managed to resist for a few seconds before the Daemon impaled its chest with its claws.
In less than three minutes, the Crimson Daemon had cleared the arena. Now, only it and Lasron remained. The ten minutes for the seventh cage began, but Lasron knew he only had about seven short minutes to face this fiend.
The first few attempts against the Crimson Daemon were utter despair. It was too fast, too strong, and its attacks carried a dark energy that made wounds very difficult to heal, even in the safe zone. Lasron died and revived countless times, each attempt lasting only a few seconds. The urge to give up, to let go of everything, once again invaded his mind, stronger than ever. Forty-five days had passed since he entered this Zone 2. Forty-five days submerged in pain, fear, and failure. Was it worth continuing?
But then, in a moment of extreme desperation, as he lay in the safe zone, watching his body slowly regenerate after another gruesome death, a crazy idea, an unbelievably reckless plan, flashed in Lasron's mind. He had observed enough. He had died enough. This time, he wouldn't just run.
In the subsequent resets, Lasron's goal was not just to survive each monster, but also to collect "weapons." It was an extremely dangerous task.
He had to calculate the precise moment, taking advantage of when other monsters were fighting or had just been defeated, to dash out and grab what he needed before the system reset their corpses or before he was attacked. After many failures and paying the price with severe injuries, he finally managed to collect a long, sharp fang from the Red Viper's corpse (which still contained a significant amount of venom) and a piece of the Bloodbat's leathery wing, which still oozed acidic blood.
And then, the day Lasron felt he was as prepared as he could possibly be, arrived. He struggled through the first six cages, battered but unyielding. When the Crimson Daemon appeared and began its slaughter, Lasron didn't retreat. He hid in a corner, tightly gripping the venomous fang, waiting for his chance.
The Daemon was engaged with the Werewolf. Just as Lasron predicted, the Werewolf, before being completely defeated, let out one final, desperate ultrasonic howl. The Daemon faltered for a moment, stunned. That was the opportunity! Thanks to his adapted Resistance, Lasron recovered from the stun slightly faster than the Daemon. He shot out like a lightning bolt, using all his strength to plunge the Red Viper's venomous fang deep into a Gap beneath the scales on the Daemon's hind leg.
The Daemon roared in pain and fury, turning to attack Lasron, but the venom's effect had already slowed it slightly. Lasron quickly retreated, then recklessly used his bare right hand to grab the acid-soaked piece of Bloodbat wing (which he had hidden nearby) and pressed it directly onto the Daemon's other knee joint. The flesh on his hand seared, smoke sizzling from it, the pain threatening to consume his mind, but he gritted his teeth and endured. His goal was achieved; the Daemon's knee joint was corroded by the acid, making its movements even more difficult.
These actions by Lasron, though not inflicting fatal damage, bought the Werewolf (still fighting the Daemon at this point) a few precious extra seconds, allowing it to inflict a few more minor wounds on the Daemon before the fiend finally finished it off.
Now, only Lasron and the weakened, slowed Crimson Daemon remained. The invisible countdown timer showed only about two minutes left.
Lasron knew he couldn't last long. He decided he wouldn't retreat to the safe zone anymore, even if he had only a sliver of health left. This time, he would gamble everything.
The Daemon, though injured and moving with difficulty, still charged at Lasron with the fury of an offended demon. Lasron didn't flee. He stood firm on the nearby Bloodbat's corpse. As the Daemon brought down a punch imbued with dark energy, Lasron deftly sidestepped at the last possible second. The Daemon's punch missed its target but struck the Bloodbat's acid-drenched corpse.
BOOM!
The Bloodbat's flesh and acid splattered everywhere due to the immense impact. Acid droplets rained down on both Lasron and the Crimson Daemon. Lasron screamed in agony as his flesh was once again corroded, deep holes appearing all over his body. But the Daemon fared no better. Its scales were also severely corroded by the acid; it roared in pain and stumbled back a few steps, its ferocity significantly diminished.
Now, there wasn't a single unblemished spot on Lasron's body. His legs, arms, torso, and face were riddled with deep acid burns, blood streaming freely. But he still stood, his eyes fixed on the Daemon.
The Daemon hesitated for a moment, perhaps sensing the danger from the remaining scattered acid, or from Lasron's terrifying resilience. But then, its demonic instincts took over; it roared and launched a final attack, a blast of dark energy aimed straight at Lasron.
Time seemed to stand still. Lasron, with an inexplicable reflex, perhaps born from countless encounters with death, or due to his enhanced AGI, managed to lean away just in time to dodge that final blow by a hair's breadth. The energy blast grazed his shoulder, leaving a searing burn.
And just at that moment...
The final "ding" echoed. The ten minutes for the seventh cage were over.
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE COMPLETED MISSION 2: THE MONSTER ARENA!]
[REWARD: 20 BASIC STAT POINTS (STORED) AND SPECIAL HIDDEN SKILL - MONSTER SCAN - UNLOCKED]
[Monster Scan: Allows the user to identify the level, estimated basic stats, prominent characteristics, and potential weaknesses of monsters previously encountered or within scan range.]
The Crimson Daemon roared in frustration then vanished into thin air, just like the monsters before it. The arena returned to silence, leaving only Lasron standing there, covered in blood and acid, gasping for breath.
This time had been even more gruesome and frenzied than the 100-meter path. Lasron barely understood what he had just done, how he had managed to endure such horrific physical and mental torture. He only knew that he had survived. He collapsed onto the sand, feeling completely and utterly drained.
Looking at the 20 stat points waiting to be allocated and the new "Monster Scan" skill, a pale, twisted smile appeared on his ravaged face. This time, he decided not to allocate the points immediately. He wanted to save them, because he didn't know what the next Zone 3 would be, how much more terrifying it would be. He would probably wait until then to decide. The most important thing now was that he was alive.
Another ethereal light portal appeared, beckoning him to a new trial. Lasron slowly stood up, his body still trembling, but in his eyes, there was now a cold, steely determination. He had come this far; he wouldn't stop.