The Floor 6 portal sealed behind them, and the Tower closed in.
Nathan felt the shift immediately: corridors narrowing, ceiling dropping, walls pressing inward like a throat constricting around prey. The heat was Severe now. The Winterhart cloaks, which had kept them alive through five floors, were failing. Their enchantments flickered and struggled, overwhelmed by the volcanic intensity. Every breath scraped. Every movement cost.
But his mana was full. The Floor 5 level-up had flooded his reserves, and the Leyline Ring hummed steadily on his finger, a constant, reassuring current. A small mercy. The only one they were likely to get.
