Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 5: Death Canopy

After navigating through several corridors and chambers, Vritra finally discovered a suitable location to rest for a few hours.

The hall he entered featured bloodstains upon the walls, yet it appeared remarkably better preserved than the previous areas. Vritra scanned the room cautiously before conducting a thorough sweep to ensure no hidden threats remained.

He returned his blade to its sheath and began to pace the perimeter.

As he approached a corner, his foot suddenly triggered a nearly invisible stone set into the floor, causing his hand to fly instinctively toward his sword hilt.

A faint tremor vibrated through the ground beneath him.

Without warning, a concealed pit gaped open, revealing an abyss of absolute darkness that promised a lethal descent. Vritra’s pupils dilated and his instincts screamed as the floor vanished; he was plummeting into the trap so rapidly that he barely grasped what had occurred.

Adrenaline surged through him. He twisted his frame mid-air, barely catching the lip of the pit. His muscles burned in agony as he exerted every ounce of strength to haul himself back up to solid ground.

He collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air while his heart thrashed against his ribs. The sheer terror of the moment far surpassed any horror game he had ever experienced; even the brutal matches in the arena were nothing compared to the lethality of this environment.

Despite this being the first floor—supposedly the safest and least difficult level—he had nearly met his end in a heartbeat.

'That was way too close,' he thought, staring at the gaping maw in the floor. This trap had clearly claimed many victims, which explained why this particular hall was cleaner than the others.

His wariness intensified. This labyrinth was proving to be a treacherous place, riddled with lethal surprises at every turn.

While inspecting the pit, he noticed a small, frayed bag snagged on a jagged stone protruding from the wall, just below the edge of the opening.

“That probably belonged to some poor adventurer who fell,” Vritra muttered as he rose to his feet. The bag looked as though it might drop at any second.

Driven by curiosity and remaining on high alert, he leaned over the edge. He managed to retrieve the bag without much trouble since it was snagged within arm's reach.

Upon opening it, he discovered a collection of glass vials filled with liquids that radiated a soft, mystical glow.

Vritra recognized them immediately.

They were healing potions, mana restoratives, and even mixtures designed to boost physical attributes. He noticed text inscribed beneath the bottles and found, to his slight surprise, that he could understand the writing perfectly.

“There are a good number of healing and mana potions here, though they are only intermediate rank. They aren't as potent as the ones Diana gave us.

I already have a hundred of each, even if only ten from each set are actually mine. Still, there are over thirty healing potions and twenty-five mana potions here. Plus, these basic rank agility and strength boosters—ten of each.”

He checked the specifications of the enhancement potions, noting they could increase his speed or power by twenty percent for a duration of twenty minutes.

He quickly transferred the vials into his inventory, calculating how they might serve him later.

'They might come in handy, even if I can get better supplies from the King or the Goddess,' he mused, feeling a sense of relief at finding something useful in this hellhole.

BUZZZZZZ!!

As he turned to leave, a violent bolt of electricity slammed into his back, racing through his entire nervous system. His muscles locked up instantly, and his sight began to fail.

Agony tore through his limbs. He fell to his knees, his frame shuddering as the current hissed through his body. His breath hitched and the world began to dim, but he fought desperately to remain conscious.

No matter how hard he struggled, his body refused to obey him.

Through the haze, he heard a familiar voice accompanied by the sound of numerous footsteps approaching. The voice was low, nearly drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

“Whoa! It actually hit. Don't tell me that killed him already? I only meant to paralyze him. G-go on, finish it.” Max’s voice reached him, sounding both satisfied and tinged with a hint of nervous fear.

“It’s fine. I needed you to be complicit in this. You’ll get used to it; this isn't your old world anymore.

This is the only way I can trust you. Don't worry, he’s still breathing. His body is surprisingly tough for a useless deadweight. Stay here while I deal with him,” a deep, heavy voice replied amidst the whispers of the group.

Summoning every spark of willpower, Vritra forced his body to lunge forward. He threw himself into the yawning darkness of the pit, choosing the unknown abyss over the certainty of being murdered.

Perhaps there was a sliver of hope in the depths.

Seeing this, the commander sprinted forward, becoming a blur as he reached the edge where Vritra had been just a moment before. He was too slow; he could only watch as Vritra vanished into the shadows of the deep hole.

“Fuck!!” the commander roared, cursed by his failure.

Vritra heard the commander’s fading shout of rage. It confirmed that they didn't just want him dead; the commander seemed to need his corpse for some specific purpose.

Having escaped one execution, Vritra now faced another lethal threat as he continued to fall. His senses began to return as he plummeted.

He tried to slow his descent by clawing at the walls, but he only succeeded in mangling his hands. Within seconds, his fingernails were torn away and deep gashes opened across his palms.

Still, he managed to shift his weight so he wouldn't land on his head.

Finally, he hit the bottom with a sickening crash. Pain exploded through his frame, his vision swam, and the taste of copper filled his mouth. He realized with horror that he couldn't feel his legs.

His lower body had absorbed the brunt of the impact; he was certain his legs were shattered.

He tried to move, but his limbs were heavy and dead. He lay there, waiting for his senses to clear while the lingering numbness of the shock faded. Taking several ragged breaths, he looked down. As he feared, his legs were a gruesome sight—from his thighs down, the bones were pulverized and protruding through the skin in a bloody mess.

He was covered in injuries, but he had survived. If the shaft hadn't been slightly angled to break his fall, he would have been nothing more than a red stain on the floor.

Once he regained control of his right hand, Vritra pulled an intermediate potion from his inventory. He downed more than half the vial before stowing it away.

The agony was instantly replaced by a wave of warmth. He listened to the sound of his bones knitting back together. Within minutes, every injury he had sustained had vanished.

The healing process was painful, yet miraculous.

“This is truly magic. Back on Earth, I would have been crippled for life, yet here I am, fully healed in minutes.”

Vritra sat up and inspected himself. His clothes were shredded and soaked in blood, but his skin was flawless, without a single scar. Even the old bruises from the arena were gone.

“Fuck!!” he spat, clenching his jaw. “Those bastards were all in on it. But why kill me?

Even having a trash ability doesn't explain this. Unless… there's some benefit to killing people summoned from another world.”

The commander’s fury at losing the body made sense if there was something to be gained from his corpse.

“They targeted me because I’m weak. Is my mother safe? She said her ability was just related to cooking, right?” Anxiety gnawed at him, but he remembered that those with the least combat-effective abilities were placed in groups three and four.

'There’s a good chance she’s okay. Her ability might not be as simple as she claimed,' he hoped fervently.

Vritra stood up, feeling no lingering pain. He began to survey his surroundings. The light here was much dimmer than on the first floor, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

When his vision finally cleared, he looked up at the massive wall he had fallen from.

To his left and right, distant walls loomed, emphasizing the staggering scale of the chamber. He realized he was trapped in a gargantuan hall of unknown proportions.

“Heh, so this pit has killed many? This trap was still a better bet than facing that group…” Vritra muttered, stretching his limbs.

Suddenly, a faint sound echoed from behind him.

He spun around and froze, his heart racing like a runaway engine. Before him, the space seemed to stretch into infinity, but that wasn't what terrified him.

In the shadows, thousands of glowing eyes were fixed on him—an endless sea of goblins. Standing just over a meter tall and armed with bone knives and heavy wooden clubs, the horde growled as they stared him down.

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[You have entered the Death Canopy.]

[A sealed extermination zone designed for absolute annihilation. A space present below the tenth floor of the labyrinth. Once inside, there is no exit, and an endless horde of demons will spawn, increasing in strength over time.

The attack will begin with demons from the 1st floor of the labyrinth, escalating in strength with each passing interval.

If the current wave fails to eliminate the intruder, demons from the next floor will be summoned after a certain period of time— progressing relentlessly up to the 10th floor.

There is no limit to their numbers, the onslaught will only stop with the death of the intruder.]

[Survival chance: None]

[Difficulty level: Impossible]

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