The stairwell into Floor Four twisted downward, slick with condensation and littered with tiny pebbles that shifted under each footstep. Kairon's satchel dragged against his shoulder, the weight of stones, scraps, and memories pressing down like a leaden reminder. His legs ached from the previous floors, but he kept moving, matching the careful rhythm of the party ahead. Every step felt deliberate, measured, as though the Dungeon itself would punish even the smallest lapse in attention.
"Why does it feel heavier this time?" Kairon thought, pressing a hand against the strap. "Is it the stones, or me? Or both?" The thought made him flinch as he shifted, reminding him of the thin line between caution and hesitation.
Lars led as always, moving with a predator's quiet assurance. Dust and grime streaked his armor, scratches marring his gauntlets, yet his gaze never wavered. Sera's shield scraped the stone subtly, the sound controlled, precise, as she scanned every shadowed corner. Corin's movements were languid, almost casual, but the taut string of his bow and the glint of arrows ready in his quiver betrayed a quiet lethality. Bren hummed under his breath, low and tuneless, while testing his dagger's balance with small flicks of the wrist, eyes darting at every shift in the ambient shadows.
"Every step, every sound, every shadow…," Kairon's pulse thrummed in his ears. The faint glow of magical veins traced the walls, casting undulating shadows that seemed to stretch and twist independently of the light source. The dripping water from the ceiling echoed through the chamber like a metronome, marking time in the silence between the party's footsteps.
A rustle above drew his gaze to a narrow ledge where two kobolds crouched, sinewy bodies poised, claws gripping stone. Their yellow eyes glimmered in the dim light, and they chattered among themselves in a sharp, staccato language. Kairon's stomach tightened. He froze, holding the dagger in his satchel with sweaty fingers.
"Watch the ledge," Sera muttered without looking at him, positioning her shield instinctively as one creature lunged briefly before retreating.
Bren whispered something low, almost to himself. "Quick little things… smart, too. Not just muscle."
Corin's arrow whistled past, embedding in the rock to one side, forcing the kobold to retreat. Lars' greatsword moved in a lazy sweep, meeting only empty space—the creatures had melted into shadows. Kairon's legs threatened to give way, and he gripped his satchel strap harder.
"They think… they think?" Kairon's mind raced. "They move like the party, only… smaller, quicker… deadly in numbers…"
The chamber opened into a wider passage, jagged stone pillars rising from shallow pools of stagnant water. The air smelled earthy, tinged with faint magic. Kairon noticed the subtle details—scuffs along the walls, tiny piles of bones hidden in corners, smears of dried ichor where previous encounters had left traces.
"Floor Four is… less forgiving," Lars said quietly, scanning the walls. "Kobolds are cleverer. They'll test, probe, retreat before they risk too much."
Sera's shield scraped the stone. "And more numerous. Keep tight."
Kairon swallowed, gripping the strap, feeling the weight of the satchel press down. "Less forgiving… more numerous… I just need to stay close. Don't look like I'm lost…"
High above, a pair of kobolds skittered along a ledge, claws raking shallow furrows in the stone. Bren flicked his dagger toward them, warning without striking. "See that? Testing the waters. They think, just a little. Not mindless."
"They are cleverer than I expected," Kairon thought. "Not monsters without thought… they calculate, retreat, strike again. And here I am… just trying not to be eaten."
The corridors curved again, forcing single-file movement. Kairon's boots slipped slightly in the damp stone, and he cursed under his breath, quiet enough that only he could hear. "Focus… just keep pace. Watch, listen, don't die."
Minutes stretched, each step punctuated by subtle sounds: a skitter along the ceiling, a soft chitter from the walls, the trickle of water into a shallow pool. Kairon tried to memorize each sound, imagining what it meant, as though translating the Dungeon's language could give him foresight.
Bren muttered again. "I like these corridors. Fewer open spaces. Makes the fight less… boring."
Corin's soft chuckle answered him. "Just keep breathing, rookie. Watch, learn, and follow. That's enough for now."
Kairon's shoulders tensed as he navigated around another shallow puddle. "I can do this. I can keep up… observe, learn… live." Each repetition felt hollow, but necessary, a quiet mantra as he moved deeper into the twisting passages.
Eventually, the corridor spiraled down into the final stairwell of Floor Four. The steps were narrow, slick with moisture, demanding care with every placement. Kairon pressed close to the wall, gripping each handhold tightly.
"Eyes forward," Lars said, pausing at the top of the stairwell. His gaze swept over the group. "Watch your footing. No heroics."
Sera adjusted her shield, brushing the wall for balance. Bren's dagger flicked idly at the edges of the stairs. Corin's hand hovered near his bow. Kairon's own hand clenched the strap of his satchel so tightly it bit into his shoulder.
"One step at a time… just one step… keep moving…"
The stairwell curved into darkness. Faint veins glowed ahead, a dim promise of light and danger coiled together. The air carried a sharper bite, damp and thick, warning of Floor Five waiting below. Kairon's legs burned, but he continued, following the rhythm of the party and trusting their instincts more than his own faltering confidence.
"I can already smell the next floor," Bren muttered under his breath. "More of them, too. Not goblins this time, but enough to make it… interesting."
Corin tilted his head slightly. "Keep your head down and eyes open. Nothing else matters."
Kairon adjusted the satchel again, feeling the weight press on him in a tangible, physical reminder of everything he had endured. "I'm not useless… I can survive… I can observe… I can learn from them…"
The first echo of movement from the next floor floated up the stairwell. Small, cautious sounds—claws scraping stone, low hisses, the occasional faint rattle—but nothing rushed. Kairon's stomach tightened. Floor Five awaited, full of unknown dangers.
"What waits below? Bigger creatures? Faster? Smarter?" he thought, tightening his grip on the satchel. "I can't know yet… I just have to follow, watch, survive."
The faint glow from veins along the walls dimmed slightly as the stairwell opened into Floor Five. Shadows seemed longer here, pooling unnaturally in corners and beneath stone ledges. The hum of latent magic pulsed faintly stronger, carrying a weight that pressed against his chest. The Dungeon seemed to be warning them—or testing them—before anything had even emerged.
Bren tilted his head, scanning the darkness. "Floor Five's no joke. You'll feel it the moment the first one strikes."
Sera's shield caught the faint light, her movements deliberate. "They're faster down here. More cunning. Don't expect the same fight as before."
Corin's eyes flicked to Kairon briefly. "Stay close. Watch what we do. That's how you survive this floor."
Kairon swallowed, chest tight. "More cunning… faster… I can't mess up. I have to learn, even without Falna."
The party stepped forward into the threshold of Floor Five. Every sense screamed caution—the faint scuttling of small feet somewhere in the shadows, the distant echo of claws against stone, the metallic tang of magic that seemed to coat the air.
"I don't know what's waiting down here," Kairon thought, forcing his legs to move. "But I know I have to keep going. I've come this far… I won't be the first to fall. Not now."
The staircase behind them seemed swallowed by darkness, as if the Dungeon had closed the path they came from. Floor Five awaited, silent but watching, hungry. And Kairon felt a cold certainty settle in his chest: the real tests were only beginning.