The dungeon shifted again. Walls moaned as stone folded like ribs in a living chest, dragging the group deeper into its belly. The air grew colder, denser with each step, the faint drip of unseen water echoing through the halls.
Kael walked at the front, claws curled tight at his sides. He should have felt more secure leading, but Iria's sudden reappearance haunted him. Her presence was a reminder that he wasn't just a beast the dungeon had spat out—he had once been a child stolen from the world above.
"Still silent," Reina murmured behind him, her voice smooth, deliberate. "Good. You're thinking, not whining."
Kael gritted his teeth. He wanted to snarl at her, but Lyra and Moro were already on edge. Iria's soft footsteps behind them were a fragile comfort, one Kael didn't dare shatter.
The path ahead widened into a cavern of pale roots and black stone. Crystals dangled from the ceiling like frozen tears, glowing faintly. At the center stood a creature shaped like a stag—but wrong. Its body was hollow bone wrapped in faintly glowing chains, antlers spiraling like a cage. Where eyes should have been, only empty sockets stared outward.
Moro stiffened, claws sliding free. "A Hollow Stag," he growled. "A warden-beast. It hunts those who stray too far from the dungeon's leash."
The stag's chains rattled as it moved, each step grinding like rusted iron. Its antlers scraped the cavern roof as it lowered its head, focusing on Kael.
Reina smiled faintly. "How fitting. The dungeon sends its jailer to greet you."
Kael's hunger rose instantly, snarling inside him. His claws ached to rip, his fangs burned for blood. But even as the hunger urged him forward, he felt something else—a hesitation. If he kept fighting like this, tearing with tooth and claw, he would always be the dungeon's beast, never more.
The stag's charge shattered the ground. Kael barely leapt aside as the creature's antlers smashed through stone, spraying shards across the chamber. Lyra raised her staff, hurling a bolt of searing light that ricocheted harmlessly off the stag's bone shell.
"It doesn't bleed!" she cried.
"Then break the bones!" Moro roared, leaping for its flank, claws sparking against the chains. The beast bucked, throwing him aside like a rag doll.
Kael landed near the ruins of old weapons, scattered remains of adventurers who had failed here. Rusted blades, broken spears, and splintered bows lay strewn about. His claws twitched, instinct urging him to ignore them. He was faster, stronger—his fangs had always been enough.
But as the Hollow Stag turned, chains rattling, Kael's hunger screamed louder than ever. Not for flesh. For something to cut through. Something more.
His hand closed around a blade buried in the dirt—a short sword, half-eaten by rust. The weight was foreign in his hand, awkward compared to the natural pull of his claws. But when the stag charged again, he didn't leap with fangs bared. He stepped forward, blade raised.
The first clash rang like thunder. Bone antlers met steel, sparks exploding in the dim cavern. The impact rattled Kael's arm, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, sliding along the antlers, carving shallow cuts into the stag's skull.
The hunger roared in approval. Not beast. Not prey. Hunter.
The Hollow Stag reeled, its chains lashing outward like whips. One snapped toward Kael's head—he ducked, dragging the blade across the chain itself. Sparks erupted, and to his shock, the rusted edge bit deep. The chain screeched, snapping apart with a flare of light.
The stag screamed, a hollow, echoing cry that shook the cavern.
Lyra gasped. "Kael—you broke it! The chains can be cut!"
Reina's voice slid through the chaos, calm and amused. "Interesting. You've learned to wear a collar and hold a leash at the same time."
Kael snarled but didn't answer. His grip tightened on the blade as the stag lunged again. This time, he didn't meet it head-on. He slid past its antlers, claws scraping sparks against the cavern floor as he drove the sword into the stag's side. Chains burst apart, light flaring, the hollow body convulsing as cracks spread across its bones.
Moro leapt again, striking the weakened spot with both claws. Lyra followed, staff glowing as she slammed a surge of light magic into the wound.
The stag shrieked one final time before collapsing, its body breaking into a rain of bone shards and shattering chains. The cavern echoed with the sound of falling metal until silence reclaimed the air.
Kael stood still, chest heaving, blade trembling in his hand. His claws dripped with dust and bone fragments, but it was the sword he couldn't stop staring at.
Reina approached, her golden eyes glinting. "So. The beast learns tools." She tilted her head, studying him like a sculptor with half-finished stone. "Perhaps you are worth the wager after all."
Kael's jaw tightened. "This isn't for you."
"No," Reina agreed softly, her smile curving like a knife. "It's for the dungeon. Everything here is."
Her words coiled around his chest like another chain. And though Kael wanted to deny her, he could not ignore the truth: the dungeon had given him claws, hunger, and now this blade. Every step forward felt less like freedom, and more like following a path the dungeon had set before him long ago.
As Iria's healing light washed over Moro's wounds, she looked at Kael with quiet sadness. "You're learning to fight like a man, not a monster," she whispered. "But at what cost?"
Kael stared down at the sword in his hand. For the first time since the dungeon stole him, he wasn't sure if the weapon was his—or just another shackle forged to fit his grip