Death Guns In Another World - Chapter 2036 - 2036: Training With Nyx 1
The moment Alex closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift, the weight of the world around him vanished. His consciousness, honed and disciplined, descended into a different reality—a world governed not by the laws of man, but by the will of one silent goddess, the Goddess of Death: Nyx.
As his eyes opened once more, he stood in the middle of a vast, pitch-black room. No walls. No ceiling. Just a void, stretching endlessly in all directions, cloaked in an abyssal silence so profound it could swallow the mind of any lesser soul. The air was thick, almost crushing, yet still breathable. It was the signature of Nyx’s inner world—a realm where shadows held weight and gravity was a merciless force.
Alex exhaled slowly. The moment his feet settled into the strange, malleable black floor, the pressure slammed down.
BOOM.
He grunted slightly, the force increasing with every heartbeat. Gravity here was far stronger than in the physical world, and it wasn’t stable. It pulsed, fluctuating under Nyx’s silent control. She was watching him, as always, from her obsidian throne high above the void—her form silhouetted by an eerie violet glow, expression unreadable, eyes half-lidded yet focused.
Today was different. As he wouldn’t be relying on his magical gun, instead he would train the traditional way—with his own hands, his own strength.
A sword appeared in his right hand—long, slightly curved, forged from the finest mythril-steel alloy. In his left hand, a spear materialized next—light, sharp, and balanced for both throwing and melee. A sleek bow hung across his back, its design elegant and deadly. Arrows formed in the air, quivering with anticipation.
The shadows responded.
From the edges of the void, dozens of shapes began to rise. First slow, then rapidly forming into grotesque, bestial creatures. They had no defined features—just bodies made from pure shadow, vaguely humanoid, but wrong. Their limbs were too long, their mouths stitched shut, and their eyes shone with a ghostly white light.
Alex grinned.
He cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath.
“Come.”
The shadows surged like a wave.
They came from all sides—front, back, above, and below. Nyx increased the gravity at the last moment, making his joints ache and his movements sluggish. But he welcomed it. This was what he needed.
He stepped forward with his sword and met the first creature head-on. The blade sliced clean through the air, meeting the shadow’s arm with a satisfying slash. The creature’s limb was severed, dissolving into wisps before vanishing entirely.
Another came from his left. Alex turned, his spear jabbing out like a flash of lightning. It pierced the shadow’s chest, anchoring it in place before he spun and kicked its form apart.
The third came from behind—fast and low.
Alex ducked under the claw swipe, rolled, and drew the bow mid-motion. Three arrows manifested in a blink. He released them in rapid succession.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Each shot struck its mark, pinning the shadows to the ground before they burst into flickering embers.
All around him, the battlefield was chaos. But Alex moved through it like a dancer, each weapon change fluid, each movement sharpened by weeks of training and countless battles. The weight of the gravity pulled at his muscles, but instead of faltering, he used it. He pushed harder, twisted faster, turned every swing of his blade into a weighted blow that struck with monstrous force.
A roar echoed.
From the far end of the void, a larger figure emerged—twice the size of the other shadows. This one carried two enormous axes made of shadowy crystal. Its eyes burned red, and its aura sent a wave of pressure that even made Alex slide half a step back.
“Now we’re talking,” he muttered.
He dashed forward.
The axe swung—a wide arc aimed to split him in half. Alex slid under it, sparks flying from his boots scraping against the compressed floor. He slashed upward with his sword, leaving a deep gash in the creature’s leg. The monster howled and countered with a downward slam.
Alex jumped backward, mid-air drawing three arrows and firing them directly into the monster’s eyes. It stumbled, blinded, just in time for Alex to switch back to the spear.
He hurled it with all his might.
The weapon glowed faintly with his aura before piercing through the shadow’s chest like a comet. The monster exploded into smoke and vanished.
Above, Nyx remained still. But the faint glow behind her throne pulsed once—approval, perhaps.
Alex dropped to one knee, panting. Sweat drenched his body, evaporating seconds later under the extreme heat and pressure of the realm.
But it wasn’t over.
Dozens more creatures began rising from the abyss.
“Of course,” Alex chuckled breathlessly.
“Round two.”
This time, he limited himself to only his bow. No melee. No close-quarters combat. Just aim, adjust, and fire under pressure. The gravity was increased again, now making each draw of the bowstring a battle of willpower.
He welcomed it.
Each arrow had to be carefully placed. Each angle calculated on the fly. He hit moving targets, dodging claws while adjusting his aim. He used the terrain, leaping off the floating shards of black stone that emerged randomly, per Nyx’s will.
Some arrows exploded on contact. Others froze targets in place. A few splintered into multiple smaller arrows mid-air, peppering his enemies in a rain of death.
Still, they kept coming.
One leapt at him from the sky, descending like a predator.
He leapt up to meet it, flipped mid-air, and launched an arrow directly into its open maw.
The explosion sent them both crashing back to the ground—but only one stood up again.
Breathing hard now, Alex took a moment to kneel and center himself.
Nyx’s throne shifted. She now stood at the edge, the air around her rippling like heat waves. Her eyes narrowed.
A portal opened behind Alex.
One last challenge.
From it stepped out a single opponent: a mirror version of Alex, cloaked in shadows. Same build. Same weapons. Same aura. But its eyes glowed crimson, and its expression was twisted with malice.
A true shadow of himself.
They clashed.
Sword against sword. Spear against spear. Bow against bow.
Every strike was matched. Every movement predicted. It was like fighting a reflection, only this reflection wanted him dead.
But Alex fought with something the shadow didn’t have: resolve.
With a roar, he forced his clone back, spun, and knocked the sword from its hand. He transitioned instantly to the bow and fired an arrow into its chest at point-blank range.
The clone screamed and dissolved into mist.
Silence returned.
Alex stood there, chest heaving, blood dripping from his lip, body bruised and sore.
But he smiled.
He looked up at Nyx.
“Thanks,” he said softly. “That was exactly what I needed.”
Nyx didn’t respond, but her silhouette faded slowly, and the oppressive gravity finally lifted.
The void around him shimmered.
Alex collapsed to the ground, staring up at the darkness, letting out a long, deep breath.
“I’ll get stronger,” he whispered to no one in particular. “No matter what it takes.”
