Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 236: A New Record-1

Chapter 236: A New Record-1

After the fifty-first level, each floor of the Tower of Legends became a battle against shifting compositions of monster armies across varied and hostile terrains. With every ascent the challenge grew harsher. The monsters themselves seemed to evolve, adapting to her tactics, some even displaying unnerving intelligence as they marshalled others under their command.

At level fifty-two, Eleanor entered a maze of dark, dripping limestone caverns. The floors and walls were slick with phosphorescent algae that glimmered faintly, casting ghostly green light. Deep, still pools dotted the chambers, concealing submerged passages.

The Crocodile Monsters lurked beneath the water’s surface, bursting forth to seize and drag her down. Multi-headed Venomfang Hydras found sure footing on the slippery stone, their broad stances anchoring them as they spat venom that hissed against the wet rock, cloaking the cavern in toxic mist. From precarious ledges, Goblins loosed stones from their slings, the algae’s glow guiding their aim, while others scurried across the treacherous floor to strike from the flanks.

Level fifty-three was a suffocating network of trenches and tunnels, narrow and choked with mud. The passages were too small for her to stand upright, forcing her to crouch or crawl. Barbed wire and sharpened stakes lined the edges, cutting off escape routes. Goblins swarmed through the cramped passages, swift and sure-footed. Orcs blocked choke points with heavy shields, while Skeletons clawed their way from the sodden earth, reassembling even after being shattered. The level demanded combat in confinement, where there was no room to breathe, much less swing freely.

The fifty-fourth level unfolded into a silent forest of stone. Towering petrified trees stood like jagged pillars, their brittle, needle-like leaves crunching underfoot with every step, making stealth impossible. Spiders dropped from the high branches, skittering across the noisy ground. Stone Golems lay in wait, half-merged with the trunks for sudden ambushes. Orcs melted into the dense cover, loosing arrows in sudden, darting attacks before vanishing again.

At fifty-five, Eleanor found herself upon a desolate volcanic plain of black sand and jagged rock. The ground trembled with the constant threat of eruption. Jets of scalding steam roared skyward without warning, while ash thickened the air into a choking haze. Magma Fiends used the geysers themselves as weapons, merging with them and erupting in surprise assaults. Rustclaw Beasts raked the ground with claws impervious to heat, kicking up storms of blinding ash. The Orcs, clad in heat-hardened armour, locked their shields together and drove their formations forward, forcing her step by step towards fissures and geysers ready to erupt.

Level fifty-six was a sunken temple, its drowned courtyards and shadowed halls filled with murky, chest-high water. Crumbled stairs and fallen pillars hid beneath the surface, waiting to trip or trap the unwary. Trolls waded in with terrifying persistence, their wounds knitting closed beneath the water. Crocodile Monsters struck from below, dragging prey into the depths. Blight Serpents tainted the very water with their venom, sapping Eleanor’s strength with every breath and step.

At fifty-seven, beauty masked lethal danger. The cavern was a cathedral of crystals, towering shards of razor-sharp stone refracting and amplifying every glimmer of light and spark of magic. Colours splintered into dizzying illusions, while beams of focused energy seared through the air without warning. Chitin Lords scuttled unseen, their reflective carapaces vanishing amid the crystal spires. Golems lumbered forward, their bodies sheathed in growing crystals that turned them nearly indestructible. The Hydras spat venom that refracted across the surfaces, transforming each spray into a barrage of death from a dozen directions at once.

At level fifty-eight, she stepped into a multi-tiered jungle of petrified trees, their branches webbed together with thick, gleaming silk. The spider threads wove platforms, tunnels, and traps, forming a deadly maze suspended high above the mist-shrouded ground far below.

The Giant Spiders darted across their webs with terrifying speed, tracking her through the vibrations of each step. Chitin Lords clambered up the stone trees with bladed limbs, slicing the webs to send her plunging into traps. Skeletons, immune to both sticky silk and fall damage, were dropped from above or reassembled on the ground to harry her from below.

Level fifty-nine opened into a bubbling bog of tar and sulphur. The stench clung to the air, and pockets of foul gas ignited into sudden bursts of flame. The ground clutched at her boots, thick and cloying, dragging at her every step.

Carrion Hulks lumbered easily through the fumes, impervious to both stench and tar. Magma Fiends deliberately ignited the gases, turning the bog into a field of fire and choking smoke. From patches of solid ground, Ogres hurled boulders, driving her back into the treacherous muck.

At level sixty, she entered a vast hall floored entirely with ancient bones. The acoustics were unnerving... every sound amplified and distorted until the chamber was filled with phantom echoes. Her ears betrayed her, rendering her unable to judge direction or distance.

The Bone Colossus rose silently from the floor itself, its bulk formed of fused skeletons. Arrows hissed through the darkness from unseen bowmen, the echoes disorienting her. Rustclaw Beasts skittered across the brittle floor, their movements magnified into a cacophony that surrounded her from every side.

The sixty-first level spread into a vast, stinking swamp where the waters were acidic and the land treacherous. Patches of solid ground were rare, and a thick, poisonous fog rolled ceaselessly across the mire. Tangled roots lay hidden beneath the water, grasping at her feet.

Blight Serpents swam effortlessly, breathing the tainted water and spreading their mists as cover. Trolls thrived here, regenerating with unnatural speed, their severed limbs regrowing in the murky depths. Carrion Hulks waded through the acid unscathed, their stench overwhelming, leaving Eleanor dizzy and struggling to keep her balance.

Level sixty-two thrust her onto wind-swept mountain passes, where violent gales howled through the cliffs. The winds threatened to hurl her into the abyss, and their roar drowned all sound but their own.

Behemoths stood unshaken by the storm, their colossal horns releasing concussive blasts magnified by the gale. Orcs fired crossbows with thick, wind-cutting bolts. From above, Spiders descended unseen, their approach masked by the shrieking wind.

The sixty-third level stretched across a barren plain of corroded metal ruins. The air itself was corrosive, rusting blades and armour in moments. Crimson dust coated everything, and the ground crumbled under her weight.

Rustclaw Beasts thrived, their claws honed to razors by the corrosion. Ogres, their metallic hides rusted and jagged, turned their very armour into weapons that tore through flesh. Chitin Lords, untouched by the decay, skittered freely across the landscape.

At level sixty-four, she trudged into a vast desert of sand and crushed bone. Bone-laced whirlwinds raged across the plain, shredding anything caught within. Beneath the treacherous ground, hollow pits collapsed into mass graves of the ancient dead.

Bone Colossi drew strength from the very terrain, their forms swelling larger as they absorbed bone fragments from the storms. Skeletons clawed their way from the sand in endless numbers, reassembling the instant they were broken. At their backs, Orc necromancers bent the death-soaked desert to their will, shaping bone into storms that hunted Eleanor relentlessly.

The ground fractured into narrow crevices and honeycombed tunnels,

slithered through the unseen tunnels, striking suddenly from holes at her sides or beneath her feet. Goblins crouched in the cracks, springing traps or darting out to

between searing heat and freezing cold, the extremes

she found a deep, narrow gorge, its sheer walls made of pure magnetic iron ore. Metallic debris littered the floor, while invisible

nearly impervious. Rustclaw Beasts scrambled up the magnetic cliffs, their claws drawn

River, a roaring torrent slicing through the cavern. The water was so cold it numbed the limbs, and jagged blocks

current to whip

each yawning chasm festered heaps of diseased carrion, the stench so

strength from the filth, growing more fearsome the deeper they waded into it. Ogres hurled chunks of rotting matter, the foul impact enough to stagger her. Spiders

237: A

rock drifted above the magma, rising and sinking unpredictably before crumbling back into the flow. The heat radiated upward in

weight shattering platforms and sending them plunging into the inferno. Ogres, hardened against the flames, brawled atop the unstable terrain. Magma Fiends swam freely through the lava, bursting forth to reinforce their

The air shimmered with heat, distorting her vision, and the relentless dryness cracked her

Stonehorn Behemoths shattered islands with their stomps, avalanching entire sections into the

of pulsating resin like the inside of a colossal wasp nest. Every surface was sticky, clinging to her boots and blades. Bulbous pods swelled and burst without warning, spewing clouds of poison

were perfectly at home. Chitin Lords and Spiders raced across walls and ceilings with ease, their movements invisible in the honeycombed dark. Blight Serpents exhaled their breath upon the hive itself, causing the fleshy walls to convulse and strike at her

floor, and ceiling pulsed like muscle, slick with bile. Pools of acid bubbled in craters, and jagged racks of bone jutted outward like teeth.

unbearable in the sealed space. A Three-headed Hydra regenerated endlessly; severed heads spewed streams of acidic blood, which the fleshy ground absorbed, sprouting writhing tentacles from the splattered biomass. Trolls drew nourishment directly from the living cavern, their regeneration accelerated to madness. Eleanor battled not just monsters but the environment itself, which writhed and heaved as though intent on

slaughter, Eleanor opened the door to level seventy-five. As she had anticipated, every monster she had

interlocking bone and shifting tectonic plates, treacherous beneath her feet. Rivers of acidic bile cut through the floor, Blight Serpents writhing in their depths, their vapours rising to mingle with the searing air. Above her, a canopy of razor-edged, magnetic tendrils clawed downward, crawling with skittering horrors. The cavern itself throbbed in rhythm with a distant Magma Heart, each beat sending geysers of steam surging upward to ignite the poisonous haze into sudden

malice of the terrain. She simply ignited her bloodline, unleashing every ability, and carved through the enemy ranks. She did not

long breath. This was all she could manage at her current strength. There was no regret in her heart... only relief. She had no idea how long she had been fighting without pause, but her body had

my fighting has grown sharper. My skills have risen, especially the battle awareness and the strength and agility I gained at levels

thoughts could linger, her vision blurred. The cavern dissolved, and her consciousness snapped back into the space capsule. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the

room where she had first entered the Tower of Legends. As she stepped out of the capsule, the device on her wrist vibrated. Instinctively, she touched it,

[Notice]

for clearing level 25 of the Tower of Legends. You have

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see

was expected. Without hesitation, Eleanor answered aloud, "Yes."

[Notice]

(10156659) has won a duel against Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601). According to the rules agreed upon by both parties, all

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his earnings. Still... free points are free points. I wonder how far that arrogant dragon

chin and commanded, "Yes. Show me the

[Notice]

level 50

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