But then, I slowed.
Something inside me twisted. My mind was no longer filled only with the promise of safety—it was filled with their faces.
Dravos, with his broken smile. The others, shouting for me to run. Their voices weren't just behind me. They were inside me.
I turned. My feet carried me back into the suffocating dark.
Back to where the soldiers had fought, where the clash of steel against death had ended in silence.
I have to return to the battlefield.
And I… I could not abandon them.
The corridor swallowed me in silence as I retraced my steps.
My boots dragged against the cold stone floor, every echo pulling me closer to the battlefield I had fled from.
The air smelled heavy—iron and smoke, like burnt flesh soaked in blood.
And then I reached it.
The sight froze me.
The place where my brothers and sisters had stood proud only moments ago was now a graveyard of horror.
Limbs scattered across the floor—arms twisted unnaturally, hands clutching broken blades as though refusing to let go, heads lying still with empty eyes staring into nothing.
The stone was slick with blood, glistening under the dim torchlight.
Their shields, dented and scorched, lay beside their bodies useless.
I stumbled forward, my stomach twisting, bile rising in my throat.
"N-no… this can't be…"
And there, standing in the center of it all, was him.
The Dakin Dagger.
He turned toward me.
"Well, well," he sneered. "You returned?"
My body locked in place, every instinct screaming at me to run.
But my feet refused to move.
The Warlock tilted his head, studying me like a predator would a trembling rabbit.
"So, you wish to join them?" He gestured casually to the corpses around us, as if they were nothing more than trash.
"Your friends fought bravely. But bravery is useless when weighed against true power."
His words stabbed deeper than any blade.
But instead, my hand moved to my sword—the weapon I had never truly mastered.
I wasn't a swordsman. I wasn't a warrior like the others. I was just a mage's apprentice,
carrying steel more out of duty than skill. And yet, in that moment, it was all I had.
With trembling hands, I unsheathed the blade.
The steel glinted faintly in the torchlight, but my arms shook so hard I almost dropped it. My voice barely broke past my lips.
"I… I won't let you mock them!"I screamed.
The Warlock chuckled, low and mocking.
"How precious," he said. "A lamb baring its teeth. Do you think that sword will save you?"
"I don't care!" I shouted, though fear rattled my bones.
"If I die, I'll die fighting!"
His grin widened into something monstrous. He lifted his staff, the skull at its crown blazing with an unholy light.
Strange symbols crawled across it, glowing green like snakes slithering beneath its surface.
"You are afraid," he hissed. "I can feel it. The tremor in your hands, the weakness in your soul. And yet… you stand. That makes this all the more delicious."
I took a step forward, though my legs felt like stone. "Shut your mouth! You'll… you'll pay for what you did!"
"Will I?" His laughter echoed.
"Then come, child. Let me show you how fragile your courage truly is."
He began to chant.
The words were like poison, hissing through the air. Dark syllables that twisted reality, making the torches flicker and the walls groan.
The dungeon seemed to breathe with his spell, the stones shivering as if they too feared what was coming.
Above me, the ceiling was pulsing with crimson light. Then, threads of fire—black and red, glowing like molten veins—wove themselves into a web that spread across the chamber.
The air grew thick, suffocating, the heat clawing at my skin.
I raised my sword, though I knew it was useless. My arms trembled so hard the blade rattled in my grip.
My breath came in short, desperate gasps.
"What… what is this?" I whispered.
The Warlock's voice slithered through the storm.
"This is despair. My gift to you."
The web of fire pulsed once, twice—then began to fall.
I couldn't dodge. The air itself pinned me down, like invisible chains locking my feet to the ground.
My heart pounded so loud it drowned out everything else.
"MOVE!" I screamed at myself, but my legs refused to obey.
The fire was falling. Closer. Hotter. The walls were melting.
And still, he laughed.
"Let us see," the Warlock said, his crimson eyes burning into mine, "how long you last before the flames devour your flesh."
In the golden light chamber!
The golden light chamber trembled as they were listening to something beyond mortal understanding.
The old man paused mid-step. His brows furrowed.
"Time…" he muttered. His eyes glowed faintly as he lifted his gaze upward.
"Time has shifted again."
A deep hum echoed through the Blue Plannet—ZZOOOOOO—a sound so vast, like the voice of eternity rolling through every stone, every drop of air.
The old man gripped his staff tighter.
"Maybe… maybe the King has done it. Only his power can reach across such threads."
In the middle of the fight, Kai's body flickered like a candle struggling against the wind.
His form twisted, bent, and then—vanished.
When Kai opened his eyes, he was no longer in the chamber.
Instead, he found himself sprawled across a vast barren field.
The land stretched endlessly, cracked earth with no trees, no rivers, nothing but a silent wasteland.
His body ached with wounds—his arms bleeding, his chest heaving with every breath. He coughed, tasting blood on his lips.
"Wh… where am I…?" Kai whispered, clutching his ribs.
The world was eerily silent, but in the distance, the faint echo of the zooooooo still lingered, fading slowly like a memory of time itself.
Back in Dungeon One, the Warlock, Dakin Dagger, stood still. His eyes narrowed, and he snarled.
"Tch… damn!" He slammed the butt of his staff against the ground, sending cracks across the dungeon floor.
"Your King saved you… pulled you away at the very last breath."
He raised his skull-topped staff high, flames licking around it like a living serpent.
"Do you think you all can hide? Do you think time itself will keep me from you all?" His voice roared, echoing against the walls of the dungeon.