The air grew colder the deeper Jin ventured into the dungeon. Following Owen's lead, he stayed close, the older man's confident strides and sharp movements contrasting with Jin's hesitant steps. The walls seemed to close in, the damp stone glistening faintly as if alive. Each sound echoed unnaturally, amplifying Jin's unease.
"Stay alert," Owen said, his voice cutting through the silence. "This place adapts to your fear. The more afraid you are, the more dangerous it becomes."
Jin swallowed hard, gripping the rusty dagger Owen had handed him earlier. It felt inadequate—a feeble weapon against the horrors lurking in the shadows.
"Why am I here?" Jin finally asked, breaking the silence.
Owen glanced back, his expression unreadable beneath the hood of his cloak. "Everyone here is trapped by their past, their regrets. The dungeon isn't just a place; it's a trial. It shows you what you fear most and forces you to face it."
Jin frowned. "What happens if I fail?"
"You die," Owen replied flatly.
The weight of those words settled heavily on Jin's shoulders, but before he could respond, a low growl echoed through the corridor. It was guttural, inhuman, and far too close.
Owen stopped abruptly, raising a hand to silence Jin. He scanned the darkness ahead, his grip tightening on his sword. "They're here."
Out of the shadows, a creature emerged. It was hunched, its body grotesque and twisted, with elongated limbs and jagged teeth that glinted in the dim light. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto Jin, and it let out a chilling hiss.
"Don't just stand there!" Owen barked, charging forward. His blade sliced through the air, meeting the creature's claws with a deafening clang. Sparks flew as the two collided, Owen moving with practiced precision.
Jin stumbled back, heart racing as more creatures crawled out of the darkness. There were three, no, five of them now, each more horrifying than the last. Their movements were erratic, their bodies twitching unnaturally as if they didn't belong to this world.
One lunged at Jin, its claws outstretched. He barely dodged, the creature's attack grazing his arm and tearing his sleeve. The pain was sharp, but adrenaline pushed him to react. He swung the dagger wildly, the blade catching the creature's arm. It screeched, black ichor spilling from the wound.
"Focus!" Owen shouted, cutting down another creature with a swift, clean strike. "Aim for the head or the heart. Anything else is useless!"
Jin tightened his grip on the dagger, his hands trembling. He took a deep breath, remembering Owen's words. Fear feeds this place. Don't let it consume you.
Another creature charged, its jaws snapping dangerously close to Jin's face. He sidestepped, bringing the dagger down into its neck. The creature gurgled before collapsing into a heap. Jin stumbled back, breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest.
"That's better," Owen muttered, finishing off the last of the creatures. He sheathed his sword, turning to Jin with a faint smirk. "You're still alive. That's a start."
Jin sank to the ground, his legs trembling. The ichor from the creature he killed clung to his dagger, its foul stench making his stomach churn. "This is insane," he muttered. "I'm not a fighter. I shouldn't be here."
"No one should," Owen said, extending a hand to help Jin up. "But here we are. The dungeon doesn't care about who you were. It only cares about who you can become."
As Jin rose, he noticed something glinting in the darkness—a faint, bluish glow. He approached cautiously, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Embedded in the wall was a small, crystalline shard, pulsing softly with light.
"What's this?" Jin asked, reaching out to touch it.
Owen's eyes widened. "Wait—"
The moment Jin's fingers brushed the shard, a surge of energy shot through him. His vision blurred, his body feeling both weightless and unbearably heavy. Memories that weren't his flashed before his eyes—a great battle, a towering figure clad in armor, and chains breaking under immense pressure.
When the visions subsided, Jin collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. The shard had vanished, its light now faintly glowing in Jin's chest.
Owen knelt beside him, his expression grave. "You just awakened something. I don't know if that's good or bad yet, but it's bound to make this trial even harder."
"What... was that?" Jin croaked, clutching his chest.
"Power," Owen said simply. "But power always comes with a cost."
The dungeon trembled, as if reacting to the shard's disappearance. From the distance, a deep, rumbling growl echoed through the corridors—louder and more menacing than anything they had encountered so far.
"Get ready," Owen said, drawing his sword again. "The dungeon just upped the stakes."
Jin gripped his dagger tightly, the glow in his chest pulsing in rhythm with his racing heart. Whatever was coming, he had no choice but to face it. The trial had truly begun.