Amidst the fading echo of shattered mechanisms and survival, Ronald's voice burst through the silence like sunlight through stormclouds.
"Anyways, Llyne, that was awesome! I didn't know a person could dodge like that."
I couldn't help it—my posture straightened, my chin tilted upward with exaggerated grace.
"This is the result of My Master chasing me and torturing me for no good reason," I declared with dramatic flair, wearing pride like armor—half truth, half jest.
Ronald raised a brow, skeptical as ever. "No good reason? Are you sure it isn't because you were fooling around?"
I deflected, fast as always. "Let's go, Ronald. Just do what I did just now. We don't have all day."
He chuckled, calm. "There's no need to follow what you did since you triggered all the traps already."
"Eh?"
I blinked, the realization hitting like a trap tile underfoot.
"I can walk past just like this," Ronald said, stepping forward with practiced ease.
No sound.
No danger.
No consequence.
He moved like the floor was nothing but stone. I watched, dumbfounded.
"Why didn't you say that before?" My voice rose, half-whine, half-accusation. "I could have used those pebbles to trigger the traps!"
"You already rushed before I could say anything," he replied coolly. "Besides, no one can replicate your movement."
I pouted, puffing out my cheeks like a sulking child. But I let it go with a theatrical sigh. "Fine."
We resumed our trek, the corridor stretching forward—still dark, still unknown.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
Click.
The echo was unmistakable. My foot had found a new pressure tile.
"Oui?" I looked down.
Hssssssssss.
A sinister hiss filled the air. Not traps. Not arrows.
Gas.
It slithered from the walls in pale green spirals—ghostly, acidic, unmistakably poisonous.
Ronald instinctively covered his nose and mouth. His eyes widened, pupils shrinking in fear.
But it was too late.
The poison struck like a viper.
His face twisted in agony. Coughs tore from his throat—violent, choking spasms that painted red across his lips. The stench of iron filled the air.
"Ah! Ronald!"
Panic flared in my chest like wildfire.
Poison.
The word tore through my thoughts, ripping up panic and memories with it. I scanned the room—the vents, the gas, the color, the smell.
'I'd smelled this before.'
"This smell… I have the antidote for it."
I dove for my inventory. Fingers trembling, heart pounding.
I didn't hesitate. No time for hesitation.
I grabbed the vial, yanked off the cork, and shoved it down Ronald's throat.
His eyes bulged in confusion. "Argh! What's that? It's disgusting."
"It's the antidote," I said, breathless. I knelt beside him, watching, praying.
Seconds passed like lifetimes. But slowly… the color returned to his cheeks. The tightness in his expression softened. His coughs lessened, breath growing steady.
The tension in my chest unwound like an uncoiled spring.
"Looks like those brutal training and trials I've been through saved the day."
Ronald coughed one last time. "What?" His voice cracked, but the worst had passed. "How…? The pain isn't there anymore."
I smiled, proud. "I took a whiff and knew the poison. My Master fed it to me before during a test. It's quite lethal to those who don't have poison resistance like me."
Ronald gave me a weary look. "Thanks, Llyne."
I beamed. "No problem! Anytime."
"But… can't you make the antidote less disgusting next time?"
"You should be hoping there's no next time," I scolded, eyebrows furrowed. "I was just lucky that I had the antidote."
He nodded, sheepish.
Still, a mischievous thought crept in.
"I guess I should make the antidote more palatable. Who knows? Maybe my customers might like it and buy some from me. I might end up becoming rich from creating antidotes. Gwehehehehe..."
My laugh was filled with the kind of greed that sparkled in bad business deals.
Ronald gave me a side glance, awkward smile forming.
'I never knew Llyne was a money-craze person.'
With the gas receding and Ronald steady once more, we resumed our march.
The poison may have failed. But this dungeon wasn't done with us yet.
Our footsteps echoed through the tunnel, rhythmic and endless. Each step felt like a page in a long story yet to be read.
But then—
A sound.
Faint.
A whisper on the edge of hearing.
It wasn't our footsteps.
Not ours alone.
A murmur. From the deep.
My body tensed. Ronald trembled beside me, each step shakier than the last.
"Are we there yet?" he asked, voice breaking.
"Nope," I replied with a chuckle, masking my own unease.
"How much longer?"
"Who knows. But not forever."
"You sure we're not lost?"
"How can we get lost on a straight road?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Ronald glared at me. "We never know with you."
A smirk tugged at my lips. "You want a beating, you punk?"
I raised a playful fist.
"No, no, I'm good!" Ronald panicked.
I chuckled and gave him a reassuring pat. "Relax, Ronald. We'll find our way."
He gave a small nod, just in time for something to catch his attention.
His eyes widened. "Llyne, an exit!"
I turned—and stopped.
There it was. Massive. Metallic. Towering like a final boss's gate.
A giant metal door stood before us, unmoving, untouched by time.
"What the—" I breathed, stepping toward it. I reached out, hand brushing against cold steel. "It's real."
The light of wonder danced in Ronald's eyes. "What are we waiting for?"
"Okay."
But something tugged at my mind.
'Ronald must've really hated this place… Usually, he's the one warning me to stay cautious. Why's he so eager now?'
The thought drifted, but I couldn't dwell. Not yet.
We stepped forward, together.
I pushed.
Creaaaaak.
The door swung open.
Light burst forth—blinding, pure.
"Ugh! The light!" I screamed, shielding my eyes. My body recoiled.
We've been in the dark too long. Our eyes need time.
"It's so bright!" Ronald echoed, flinching.
We squinted. Blinked. Waited for shapes to form through the white haze.
Slowly, I peeked through slitted fingers. Shapes. Color. A new space was revealed.
'A place we'd never seen before.'
And I frowned.
"Huh? This place—"