Guessing that they were close to the Floor Boss of the second layer, Greg gave Allie a meaningful look.
“Get ready.”
Allie nodded understandingly and tightened her grip on her longsword.
Both of them reached out at the same time, pressing their hands against the massive metal doors, and pushed inward with all their might.
With a low, rumbling groan, the metal doors slowly swung open to both sides.
The scene behind the doors gradually unfolded before them. It was an incredibly spacious hall with a soaring domed ceiling that stood over a hundred feet high.
The interior layout resembled a cathedral, with dozens of rows of long wooden pews lining both sides, each carved with an exquisite hourglass pattern at the end.
A deep red carpet ran down the aisle between the pews, stretching all the way to the very front of the hall.
White candles were lit all around the hall, their flickering flames casting a warm, soft glow that enveloped the entire space in a sacred and solemn atmosphere.
And at the very front of the hall, there was indeed a statue erected for worship.
It was a stone sculpture of a woman. Unlike the badly damaged statue in the Shattered Temple of the Academy Dungeon, this one was completely intact.
She stood upon a stone pedestal about six feet high, her posture upright and elegant. She wore a flowing robe, its hem cascading naturally onto the surface of the pedestal with lifelike, realistic folds.
Although a carved stone blindfold covered her face from the eyes up, obscuring her full features, the statue still exuded an unspeakable beauty.
Greg figured this must be the statue of the Mother of Clepsydras.
The two of them carefully scanned the interior of the hall, but they didn't spot any other suspicious figures.
“Strange. Is the Floor Boss of this layer not here?”
With a hint of doubt, Greg walked up to the statue and looked up at the blindfolded face. Suddenly, a strange sense of familiarity welled up in his heart.
He couldn't quite put his finger on where this familiarity came from, but he felt as though he had seen this face somewhere before—or rather, something very similar to it...
Clink!
Just as Greg was lost in thought, he and Allie suddenly heard a crisp metallic clinking sound echo through the empty hall.
It sounded like some metal component dropping onto the floor, sounding exceptionally abrupt in the silent hall.
Immediately on high alert, the two of them turned their eyes toward the sound.
In the center of the hall, on the carpeted aisle between the pews, a pile of bizarre objects had gathered at some unknown point.
It was a heap of metal parts mixed with blood and flesh—gears, chains, clock hands, springs, and other unnamed mechanical components were piled together in a chaotic mess. Dark red, muscle-fiber-like tissues clung to them, writhing slightly.
As if drawn by some invisible force, they began to converge, assemble, and piece themselves together.
Gears meshed together, chains wrapped around the skeletal frame, clock hands slid into slots, and flesh tissue climbed the metal surfaces like vines, binding them tightly together.
A massive humanoid shape slowly began to take form.
At the same time, their surroundings began to change.
The pristine white walls quickly became mottled and cracked, with large chunks of plaster peeling away to reveal the gray-black stone underneath.
The lacquer on the pews cracked and faded, and the wood let out a rotting creak.
The flames of the burning white candles instantly turned an eerie, ghostly blue, shrouding the entire hall in a creepy and sinister atmosphere.
Even the beautiful female statue at the very front began to decay and crumble at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Greg reacted instantly, shouting, “Allie, don't give it a chance! Strike now!”
Before his voice could even fade, Allie had already moved.
She drew her longsword, the mana within her body erupting in an instant as a brilliant, silver-white light flared across the blade.
Without a moment's hesitation, she unleashed a fierce wave of sword aura.
The sword aura howled forth like a crescent moon, tearing through the air with unstoppable force as it slashed ruthlessly toward the transforming monster.
Boom!
A massive explosion erupted in the empty hall, shaking loose debris from the walls.
As the dust gradually settled, the area struck by the sword aura was revealed. The monster that had been standing there was gone without a trace, as if it had been completely obliterated.
Allie lowered her longsword, a trace of disdain in her voice. “Is that it? I thought the Floor Boss of this layer would be really strong, but it turns out to be nothing special.”
“No, it can't be this easy.”
Greg did not let his guard down.
His eyes remained locked onto that area, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.
Just then, Greg noticed a strange phenomenon.
The area that had been struck by the sword aura had become clean and pristine once more. The cracks on the walls vanished, the lacquer on the pews regained its bright luster, and even the candle flames returned to a warm, orange-yellow glow.
It was as if that specific section of space had been reset to the state it was in when they first entered the temple.
But Greg looked down at the floor beneath his own feet—the stone slabs were still cracked and worn, and the walls around them remained gray, black, and fractured.
The space where he and Allie stood had not undergone the same change.
Greg said in a low voice, “It's not over yet.”
Allie blinked, about to ask what he meant, when she saw the clean and pristine area instantly decay once more—the walls cracked, the pews rotted, and the candle flames turned blue.
In the center of that area, the scattered metal fragments and fleshy remains began to writhe, converge, and reassemble.
Within just a few breaths, the monster stood before them once again.
This time, it was complete.
Standing nearly ten feet tall, its body was a twisted, eerie fusion of dull metal and dark red flesh.
Its head was a massive bronze gear, with a constantly spinning hourglass embedded in the center, sand cycling through it without pause.
Its arms were formed from dozens of metal chains of varying thickness twisted together, ending in five razor-sharp claw blades that gleamed with a cold, metallic light.
Its chest was wide open, exposing a dense cluster of interlocking gears turning at a constant, rhythmic pace.
A system prompt flashed in Greg's mind:
【Perpetual Visceral Clock LV50】
“Ugh—”
Nightmare's voice rang out in Greg's mind, carrying an undisguised sense of disgust and loathing. “I didn't expect those bastards to actually create such a repulsive thing. Fusing flesh and machinery, then infusing it with a fragment of that guy's Authority... it's truly... more disgusting than those bitches.”
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