Caspian stepped forward as the second floor faded into nothingness.
A new platform emerged—a vast expanse of smooth black stone stretching into the unknown.
No walls. No doors. No enemy in sight.
His instincts sharpened.
'There's always something.'
A soft whisper brushed against his ears—yet there was no voice.
Then—
The air itself shifted.
Something moved.
Not footsteps. Not wind.
But—presence.
Caspian ducked.
A blade slashed past his head—silent.
His eyes widened.
Nothing was there.
'No shadow. No figure. No outline.'
Yet—something had attacked.
Caspian leaped back, sword raised.
His grip on Bloodmoon tightened.
'An enemy I can't see?'
The whispering grew louder.
And then—
Another strike.
Faster. Sharper. Untraceable.
Caspian barely twisted his body—the blade carved into his shoulder.
Pain flared.
Blood dripped onto the black stone.
Yet—he saw nothing.
His thoughts raced.
'If I can't see it… then how do I fight it?'
Another slash.
