Jean fought back the hot tears welling in his eyes as Beckham worked to heal his wounds, the gentle green glow of magic washing over him. His gaze drifted to the remains of his fallen comrades, his friends, now lifeless on the cold dungeon floor.
They were all dead.
'All because of…'
His eyes flickered toward the girl in black, curled up in the corner, her body trembling as quiet sobs wracked her frame.
'Her.'
"I know what you're thinking, friend," Beckham said, his voice calm yet firm. "She bears no fault in this. This dungeon has claimed many lives today."
Jean clenched his jaw but said nothing.
Beckham had initially wanted to heal Alice as well, but the twins had already given her a health potion. The moment she drank it, her wounds vanished completely, as if they had never existed.
It was extraordinary. A potion that guaranteed full recovery, without exception.
Only the exalted elixirs personally crafted by Hamarie, the legendary Sin of Lust herself, were capable of such miraculous effects.
Just one of those was valuable enough to purchase a small nation, and yet, Yui had handed one to the former monster without hesitation.
The thought sent a chill down Jean's spine.
Before he could dwell on it further, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the dungeon chamber.
Instinctively, the group tensed.
A moment later, the shielder burst into the clearing, his shield raised and ready for battle.
Kitti followed closely behind him, her sharp eyes scanning the area.
Shade was the last to enter, his claymore primed and ready.
The shielder froze at the sight of Mai sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mai!! What happened?!" He rushed to her side without hesitation, kneeling beside her as Yui shifted to make room. Gently, he pulled Mai into a protective embrace.
The moment she felt his arms around her, Mai broke down completely, gripping his cloak as her body trembled.
"I almost hurt Yui!" she choked out between ragged sobs. "She's my sister, and I... I tried to kill her."
The shielder's expression darkened in confusion. He turned to Yui, silently demanding an explanation.
With a solemn nod, Yui recounted everything that had transpired before his arrival. Alice also joined in, filling in the details that her master had left out.
As he listened, the shielder's face grew grim.
"We got too complacent.'
They had assumed nothing in this dungeon could pose a real threat to them, but they had underestimated its dangers.
'There are different ways to bypass our defenses…'
The twins were devastating in close combat, but they had no protection against spiritual attacks.
His grip on Mai tightened.
He turned to Yui. "No more playing around, Yui. We need to leave this dungeon now."
Yui nodded, her crimson eyes flickering toward Mai, who had drifted into an exhausted sleep in the shielder's arms.
"Don't worry," Yui murmured, her voice colder than before. "I'm very angry right now."
///
After regrouping, the party retraced their steps to the massive gate at the end of the dungeon, this time carrying all six keys.
Still holding Mai securely, the shielder stepped forward and inserted the keys into the ancient locks.
KRACLOOM!!
A heavy *clunk* echoed through the chamber as the mechanisms engaged. Slowly, the colossal doors groaned open… revealing,
Nothing.
The chamber beyond was vast and empty, stretching out into a hollow expanse.
Bekhan exhaled sharply. "That makes sense. If Grorubas was the true floor boss, he would have been a terrifying opponent, especially since he had the ability to leave his designated room."
A massive opening yawned at the far end of the chamber, a stairway descending into darkness.
It was already open.
The third floor awaits.
////
After descending yet another long and ominously large stairway, the adventurers found themselves in a cavernous chamber, eerily similar to the cave at the dungeon's entrance. A single passage stretched ahead, its walls damp with condensation, the air thick with an unnatural stillness.
"Hopefully, this is the last floor," Shade muttered, exhaling tiredly as the shielder led the group forward.
It had been three days since they had first entered what they had come to call the One-Eyed Dungeon, and the trials had taken their toll.
Shade, usually composed, now bore deep shadows under his eyes, the accumulated stress of the past days evident in his weary posture.
Jean had taken to keeping his sword constantly in hand, securing it to his palm with a bandage to ensure it never left his grip. His once-pristine armor was now scratched and dulled, a testament to countless clashes.
Kitti, ever resilient, carried new scars across her arms and legs, remnants of wounds hastily healed. Her gauntlets, once sturdy and polished, were now worn and battered, the metal dented from repeated use.
Daisy, in stark contrast, seemed almost untouched by the ordeal. With her short sword in hand, she strode ahead with an air of curiosity, her sharp eyes scanning the cavern walls. Compared to the other leaders, she looked perfectly fine, physically, at least.
The cave finally opened up before them, and the group instinctively slowed as they reached the exit.
A collective gasp echoed among the adventurers.
The shielder let out a low whistle. "This has to be the final floor."
Before them stretched a vast, crimson landscape of fire and molten rock. At its center, surrounded by rivers of magma and columns of searing flame, stood a massive fortress. Its towering, red-brown walls shimmered under the harsh glow of the crimson sun, as if the very air around it was ablaze.
Yui raised her hammer with a grin. "I can already hear the boss music." The shielder laughed at that.
---
"Hey! We've got a little one over here!" a brown-haired man shouted as he charged into a cave.
A piercing shriek of pain echoed from within, followed by a heavy 'thud.' Moments later, the man emerged, dragging a rope-bound creature behind him.
The captive was a young cyclops, as tall as the man but far bulkier, its single eye darting around in fear. As it was hauled outside, its gaze locked onto a large wooden wagon nearby. Inside, lifeless eyes stared back—empty, motionless bodies piled together.
The cyclops let out a heart-wrenching screech.
"Will you shut that damn thing up?" a large, bearded man bellowed, his full-body armor clanking as he held his helmet under one arm.
The brown-haired man turned without hesitation, raising his club, its surface glowing with faint enchantment. He brought it down hard on the cyclops's head. The creature spasmed briefly before its body went limp, the ropes slackening around it.
"Good," the bearded man grunted. "Gather the rest of the young. The old man's going to have a field day with this batch." He let out a deep, guttural laugh, the sound as rough as grinding stone.
The young cyclops was hauled into a massive iron cage, joining others of its kind. As soon as they were thrown in, the cage pulsed with a faint glow, an enchantment woven into the metal to lull the captives into a deep, dreamless sleep.
All around, soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, loading more cages in the same manner. By the time they were done, over three dozen cages stood in neat rows, each filled with cyclopes, their enormous forms now eerily still.
The convoy was pulled by massive creatures called Rhoaborns, beasts that resembled a cross between a horse and a rhinoceros beetle, their thick, chitinous hides gleaming in the sunlight. Their six powerful legs stamped the ground impatiently, harnesses creaking under their weight.
The bearded man's gaze drifted upward to a figure seated atop an especially large Rhoaborn. A petite young woman sat astride the beast, her platinum hair catching in the wind. It framed her striking, crystalline bow, its surface reflecting shards of light like a prism. Her emerald armor shimmered under the sun, stealing the breath of those who dared look too long.
Lady Oum, the Star Caller.
One of the Nine Generals, the strongest warriors of the Empire.
The bearded man had no idea why a general had accompanied them on what should have been a simple monster-hunting operation. But if the Empire deemed it necessary, he wasn't about to question it. Extra security was never a bad thing.
SKRAAAAAH!
A piercing shriek shattered the air, ripping the bearded man from his thoughts. Instinctively, he threw his hands over his ears, but the sheer force of the sound still sent a sharp pain through his skull.
Panic erupted among the soldiers.
With a deafening blast, one of the cages exploded in a shower of splintered iron and glowing embers. From the wreckage, a young cyclops burst free, its massive frame heaving with rage.
SKRAAAAAH!
It threw its head back and roared to the heavens before its single, furious eye locked onto the nearest target, a soldier who hadn't managed to escape in time.
SPLAT!
The unfortunate man was reduced to little more than pulp as the cyclops hurled him like a ragdoll into a Rhoaborn. The massive beast reared back, letting out a thunderous roar of alarm before trampling three soldiers, in its panicked retreat.
As the cyclops raged, golden markings 'flared' across its body, its power surging. It turned on the remaining soldiers, eyes burning with raw fury.
But the soldiers of the Empire were no cowards.
Though shaken, they quickly regrouped, weapons raised, battle cries cutting through the chaos as they charged to bring the beast down.
Spears flew through the air, their tips glinting in the sunlight, only to shatter against the young cyclops's unnaturally tough skin. Fireballs followed, exploding in searing waves across its massive frame, only for crackling lightning to rain down in a final devastating strike. The successive blasts kicked up a thick cloud of dust, obscuring the battlefield.
For a brief moment, silence hung in the air.
As the dust settled, gasps rippled through the soldiers. The cyclops stood unharmed.
With another deafening roar, it threw itself forward once more.
The bearded man, now fully donned in his helmet, gripped his bardiche tightly and charged.
The cyclops swung its log-sized arm in a brutal arc, but the warrior reacted swiftly, sliding beneath the attack with practiced ease. Springing to his feet, he swung his massive blade toward the beast's legs, aiming to cripple it...
But he never completed the strike.
A colossal hand snatched him mid-swing.
His heart pounded as he looked up, meeting the cyclops's gleaming, jagged teeth. His mind barely had time to register the gaping maw before
Darkness.
Gasps turned into cries of horror as the headless corpse of their commander was flung into the distance like discarded waste.
The brown-haired youth, trembling, turned toward the one figure who had yet to move, a petite woman seated atop her Rhoaborn, her platinum hair swaying in the wind. Even as the battlefield descended into chaos, Lady Oum, the Star Caller, remained still, staring forward as if utterly detached from the massacre.
"Lady Oum! Please, we require your assistance!" the youth shouted, forcing his voice to remain as respectful as possible despite the terror creeping into his tone.
She didn't respond.
She didn't even flinch.
A wet, sickening thud echoed beside him as a soldier's broken body slammed into the cage, blood splattering across his face. The brown-haired youth clenched his fists, his panic only worsening.
"Please, Lady Oum!" he pleaded desperately. "We won't last like this!"
Still, silence.
Only the screams of his comrades, the sound of bodies crushed, flung, and torn apart, filled the void.
Then, without warning, she jerked forward.
Had he not been drowning in terror, the brown-haired youth might have been stunned by what he heard next.
"Wha... Wha... I'm awake! I'm awake!" she yawned, stretching her arms lazily to the sky. "Is the containment done? Can I go home now?"
Her sleepy eyes flickered toward the battlefield, finally taking in the carnage. She blinked.
"You're not done yet?" She rubbed her eyes before her voice dropped into a sharp, irritated growl. "Who the hell woke me up? I'll fucking kill you!"
The brown-haired youth shivered but forced himself to yell anyway.
"Lady Oum! The cyclops broke free from its cage! Its strength is unlike the others, please, we need your aid!"
For the first time, her gaze sharpened.
The cyclops raised its massive, interlocked hands high above its head, ready to bring them crashing down on a female knight who braced herself behind her shield.
Before the fatal blow could land...
SHNK!
A projectile pierced through both of the cyclops's hands, impaling them against one of the cages behind it. The beast let out a shocked, agonized roar, its body jerking violently against its sudden restraint.
But it wasn't a spear.
The brown-haired youth turned toward the source of the attack, his breath catching. Lady Oum stood with her crystalline bow drawn, her posture relaxed, her other hand positioned as if she had just fired a shot.
His eyes widened in awe.
This was Lady Oum, the Star Caller, the strongest archer in the empire. Her arrows were said to be more destructive than even the most powerful spells. The title of "Star Caller" came from her most fearsome technique, Raining Stars, an attack capable of wiping out entire armies.
She had woken up and ended the threat in an instant.
With an exaggerated groan, Lady Oum slid off her Rhoaborn, landing on the ground with the grace of someone who didn't care to try. She stretched lazily, cracking her neck as she approached the struggling cyclops.
Despite its injuries, the beast roared in defiance, spittle flying from its mouth. Its muscles bulged as it strained against the spear-like arrow, but the enchanted projectile held firm.
Lady Oum eyed the creature with half-lidded interest. "Huh. Would you look at that? Sarah was right. A unique monster did show up. And one so young, too."
The cyclops, which had been thrashing wildly, flinched as she stepped closer.
She didn't stop.
Her presence wasn't overwhelming or forceful, it was casual, unhurried. And yet, each step seemed to sap the fight from the beast, forcing it to acknowledge her strength.
Stopping just inches from its massive face, Lady Oum reached up and placed a delicate hand under its chin.
Her onyx-black eyes locked onto its single brown iris.
A slow, almost amused smirk tugged at her lips.
"Don't worry, little thing," she murmured. "You'll be of great use to the Empire."
The cyclops rumbled lowly in response, its breathing heavy. A faint, flickering triangle symbol appeared in its eye, as if its very soul was resisting submission. Even now, even in defeat, it refused to appear weak.
---
The triangle symbol within 'His' eyes shimmered faintly, its reflection dancing across the glassy surface of a crystallized bone necklace.
'He' had felt it, the precise moment Grorubas had fallen.
Yet something was... wrong. The warlock's soul had vanished. It was as if he had never existed.
A rare flicker of unease crept into 'His' mind.
The massive doors of the Crystal Palace rumbled open, their weight sending deep reverberations through the gleaming floor. For the second time that day, 'HE' was greeted by visitors.
Three figures entered, Cyclopes, each clad in full-body armor, the steel forged thick to withstand the harshest of battles.
The largest of them, towering even among his own kind, removed his obsidian-black helmet and knelt before the throne.
"My liege," he rumbled, his deep voice carrying the weight of centuries. "The intruders have reached our fortress. They stand before our gates."
A low, thoughtful grunt was 'His' only response.
The second Cyclops, younger but no less formidable, straightened his broad shoulders. A single crimson feather swayed atop his helm as he spoke with barely contained aggression.
"My lord! Our troops are ready. Give the word, and we will crush them all!"**
Silence followed.
Then, a single command.
"Let them through."
'His' voice carried through the vast chamber, deep and unshaken, a bastion of certainty.
The three Cyclopes stiffened. Their shock was palpable.
One of them opened his mouth to protest, but the words never left his lips.
"Have the Elders finish the ritual."
It was not a request.
It was absolute.
Relying on their own instincts would have been easy, going against 'His' decree, however, was unthinkable. Without another word, the three warriors straightened, their towering forms casting long shadows as they turned and exited the hall.
Now alone, 'He' stepped down from his throne, the faint sound of 'his' boots against crystal filling the room.
Stopping before a particularly large red crystal, 'HE' gazed into its polished surface.
A figure stared back at 'HIM'.
But it wasn't 'HIS' own.
For a fleeting moment, the reflection shifted 'HIS' brown eye replaced by cold onyx, 'HIS' broad features reshaped into that of a woman with platinum hair and a massive crystalline bow.
A ghost of the past.
A stain that had yet to be erased.
'HE' blinked.
The illusion was gone.
Only 'HIS' own reflection remained.
A low growl rumbled from 'His' throat, a promise laced with bitterness and hate.
"Never again."