Dungeon King: The Hidden Ruler
Chapter 90: [Three Faces of the Blade 8] Root. Poison. Control.

Chapter 90: [Three Faces of the Blade 8] Root. Poison. Control.

Raven stepped forward, his gaze scanning each of his summoned allies.

"Formation’s simple," he said, voice level. "We anchor in a T—Seneschal on mid-left. You’re the shield and the lifeline."

The Ironbark Seneschal dipped its helm. Roots crackled underfoot as it shifted into position.

"I’ll hold center," Raven continued. "Mobile. Pivot point. Whoever Arvax targets first becomes the new center—Seneschal adjusts around them."

He looked to his left.

"Widowvine—disruption is yours. Stay mid-left. If the Legion spawns, fire through their backline. Use Vine Puppet to break their formation. Rear target first."

Widowvine Arcanist’s silken robes whispered as she bowed faintly, vines curling beneath her feet.

"Ostreva," Raven turned to the right. "Back-right arc. Keep moving, keep stacking. You’re our poison pressure. No heroics."

Lady Ostreva offered a slow smile.

"No worries, love. Will make sure this trash heap will get DoT over and over again."

"Don’t break formation unless I call it," Raven warned. "If Code Crimson hits you—speak up immediately. Seneschal, if it’s you, trigger the root lattice and hold until we recover."

His eyes returned to the brass titan across the pit. Arvax’s vents hissed, and the glyphs along its limbs pulsed brighter now.

"We hold shape. We control the pace."

He rolled his neck and raised one hand.

"Let’s bring it down before it gets to red."

Raven didn’t take his eyes off Arvax as he spoke, "Ostreva. If you cast Regal Bloom, does it affect all of us?"

The great machine took one step forward, metal groaning with weight and heat.

Ostreva tilted her head and shrugged.

"No, love. We’re all plant-based. Should be safe."

Arvax stepped again—closer now, toward Raven.

Raven spun his chain once to build momentum. "Crimson Thornlash. Now."

Ostreva’s hand bloomed with cursed petals and crimson sap, flinging forward in a spiral of poisonous thorns.

Even before Raven’s chain struck home, Arvax had already begun to reel from the effects of Ostreva’s Crimson Thornlash.

Thin, writhing tendrils of toxin pulsed visibly beneath its brass plating—reddish-black vines coiling in places they shouldn’t exist. The Thornwrap DoT had taken hold, burrowing beneath rivets, hissing into joints. Steam leaked where it hadn’t moments ago.

Poison nodes flared red across its inner plating—glitches crawling through its targeting matrix. Every motion stuttered for half a second, as if its commands were lagging behind its will.

[Status Effect: DoT Active]

[Thornwrap Corrosion Applied]

[Duration: 12s Effect: -3% HP per tick]

The glyphs across its body pulsed unevenly. One arm twitched, then another. The system tried to purge the corruption, but the poison was too deeply woven.

Each second dragged another percentage point off its health.

No aggro was drawn to Ostreva, since Raven’s chain hit it. No counter yet triggered.

But the slow burn had started.

Raven hurled his chain straight into the construct’s advancing form—clanging against its chestplate with a flash of aggro confirmation.

A heartbeat later, he vanished—Phantom Bind activated.

The battle had begun.

Raven reappeared behind Arvax in a blur of motion, boots skidding across the scorched stone. His chain whipped out low, catching the golem’s left leg joint—not enough to stagger, but enough to expose the stance.

Widowvine Arcanist struck next. A flurry of thorn-laced volleys curved around Arvax’s bulk, slamming into its side plating. As the construct instinctively blocked with its right arm, the impact triggered Sticky Hex—slowing its forward movement.

Seneschal followed, slamming his bark-wrapped arm into the floor. Root Trial Lattice triggered beneath Arvax, vines erupting and coiling around its feet, anchoring the trial engine in place.

Then came retaliation.

The glyphs on Arvax’s chest flared red. A disk of energy pulsed outward—Code Crimson. It slammed into Widowvine Arcanist, and her health dropped instantly to 1. She didn’t fall, but her form flickered and bent like fabric in wind. This skill usually follow by lunge forward to end the victim of Code Crimson, but since Arvax bound by Root Trial Lattice, it cannot follow up.

"Hold formation! Don’t shift!" Raven barked.

Seneschal immediately rotated mid-left, stepping between the boss and the weakened Arcanist. The lattice beneath his feet responded—pulsing a healing aura outward, healing Widowvine Arcanist.

Lady Ostreva raised one pale arm. A crimson blossom opened in her palm, and with a flick of her wrist, Crimson Thornlash fired. The living blade struck Arvax cleanly while it remained pinned, stunning it and initiating a slow, writhing Thornwrap DoT around its torso.

Arvax let out a mechanical growl, its six arms shifting. "TRIAL ESCALATION. ADDITIONAL... ENFORCEMENT... REQUIRED."

A red sigil flared beneath it—telegraphing the arrival of the Ashforged Legion.

From fractured vents lining the arena, five burning constructs erupted—misshapen soldiers forged from rusted armor and molten steel. Their howls echoed as they landed, eyes blazing with locked-in orders, blades fused to their forearms.

Raven didn’t wait.

"Ostreva—now. Fill the field."

"Arcanist—backline. Confuse their pathing."

Lady Ostreva moved forward with eerie calm. With a snap of her fingers, Regal Bloom unfolded. Crimson fog erupted beneath her feet and rolled across the arena, blooming outward in petal-laced clouds of toxic gas.

[Status Effect: Poisonous Zone Active]

[Regal Bloom Hazard Deployed]

Area Type: Environmental AoE

Effect: Continuous damage to Light- and Water-aligned entities

Friendly plant-aligned targets: Immune

The Ashforged faltered, caught in the spreading mist. Poison seeped into their frames. Raven’s allies stood untouched, wrapped in their plant-bound protections.

Widowvine Arcanist lifted both arms, smirked, "Let them forget which side they’re on."

Vine Puppet struck.

Vines shot forward, piercing the legs of two rear Legionnaires. They seized up, rooted mid-step, their eyes flickering. Then—mirroring the Arcanist’s posture—they turned.

She raised her arm and loosed a volley.

So did they.

Thorns exploded into the Legion’s formation. One soldier crumpled instantly. The others reeled, scattering from their own.

Raven didn’t hesitate.

With one Ashforged down and the remaining four stumbling in the chaos, the lane was open.

He surged forward, dashing through the fog of Regal Bloom. The crimson mist curled around his boots, but left him untouched.

His chain whistled.

It caught the shoulder ring.

Raven yanked—hard.

The pull slung him into Arvax’s blind spot, and he launched upward.

Steel met brass as Raven slashed across the glyph-engraved plate near Arvax’s neck, carving a shallow groove and drawing a burst of hissing steam.

At the same moment, the Ironbark Seneschal advanced—his massive roots grinding like old siege wheels. He stepped in behind Arvax’s flank and drove his shield-arm forward.

The strike collided against Arvax’s left hip socket with a thunderous crack, staggering the engine just slightly.

"Press it!" Raven called.

Above, Widowvine Arcanist loosed another volley toward the retreating Legion.

Ostreva’s poisons continued to pulse. One of the four remaining Ashforged collapsed under the damage-over-time bloom, leaving three.

But Raven didn’t look back.

He was already moving into position again.

Three Ashforged Legionnaires remained—scattered, but not broken.

Seneschal turned away from Arvax and charged the nearest one, his heavy steps rattling the floor. A shield slam echoed as he met the soldier mid-swing, knocking it backward into the mist.

Ostreva remained untouched, simply lifting her hand. Crimson thorns bloomed once more, streaking across the arena floor. She didn’t chase. Her poisons did the work for her.

Widowvine Arcanist moved like silk and shadow—drawing two Legionnaires into range and loosing a wide thorn volley. Their armor cracked under impact, their stances broken.

Raven didn’t miss the window.

Arvax was still struggling—steam leaking from its joints, poison lines threading beneath its brass. The Regal Bloom still hung in the air, dense and crimson.

The mist had fully soaked the pit now—coating metal, stone, and even the lingering Legion in an eerie red hue. Everything moved slower inside it, every echo muffled by blooming decay.

He spun his chain again.

This time, he didn’t throw it for control—he used it as a tether.

The chain lashed forward and looped around Arvax’s left forearm. Raven jumped, letting the recoil pull him in. Hanging by the momentum, he drove his dagger down into the gap between Arvax’s upper plating.

The blade sunk in with a harsh metallic screech.

While the bloom lasts, I add my cut too, Raven thought.

Below him, Arvax shook violently, its vents flaring in response.

Raven held on.

But the moment didn’t last.

The roots coiled around Arvax cracked. The glowing hex symbols blinked... and vanished.

Root Trial Lattice expired. Sticky Hex faded.

Arvax roared—static-laced and rising.

"RESTRAINT—BREACHED. EXECUTE—SUPPRESSION—PROTOCOL."

Six arms flared wide. Superheated steam vented from its back. With a brutal surge, Arvax stepped forward—free, and fully aware.

Raven let loose his chain and jumped back, landing lightly before calling out, "Stay in formation!"

His eyes flicked toward the dungeon entrance—just a glance, but long enough to confirm it was still empty.

Still safe.

That was his mistake.

"Watch out—!" Ostreva warned as she cast a new Regal Bloom.

Arvax lunged.

One of its six arms lifted high, hammer forming in its segmented grip. It came down like a guillotine.

Raven’s eyes widened—he barely got his arm up in time. Chain wrapped, defense braced—

The hammer hit.

The impact blasted him backward across the arena. He hit the floor hard and rolled, boots scraping against the scorched stone.

Steam hissed where he landed.

He didn’t get up immediately.