From the moment Darian and Selene had stepped fully beyond the stairwell landing, the space had unfolded with unsettling generosity. The ceiling rose high above them in layered stone arcs, ribbed with structural reinforcement lines that looked carved rather than built. The ground extended outward in a wide plain of worked stone panels, each plate etched faintly with inscriptions that no longer glowed but still carried dormant residue.
And it was saturated with traps.
They were everywhere—woven into the ground, embedded into the walls, suspended within the air itself in thin, nearly invisible lattices of mana. Some were mechanical. Some purely magical. Many were both.
Selene walked ahead.
Or rather—Sheyb did.
The small floating spirit construct drifted forward at a cautious pace, its faint luminescent form shifting in color whenever it detected instability. When it approached an area, the air around it rippled faintly, revealing hidden seams: pressure plates disguised as uniform tiles, hairline grooves along walls, subtle differences in stone density.
Sheyb would pause.
Selene would follow.
She extended her wand carefully, lips moving in quiet, measured cadence. Threads of pale blue light spilled from the wand's tip, sliding across surfaces like searching fingers. When they struck a hidden mechanism, the trap would briefly illuminate—revealed.
Darian followed several paces behind.
He did not interrupt.
He did not step ahead.
He did not speak unless necessary.
The ground before Selene shimmered faintly, a grid of concealed rune-lines glowing as she dispelled the camouflage layered over them.
Darian exhaled slowly.
"Even though I'm witnessing this," he muttered, gaze sweeping outward across the floor, "I still can't believe how open and humongous this place is."
His voice carried strangely in the wide space, dispersing before echoing.
"This floor could vividly contain a whole village."
Selene did not look back.
"Is that s… so."
Her words came one at a time.
Not from doubt.
From focus.
Her brow was faintly damp. The light around her wand pulsed in controlled intervals as she untangled another layered trap sequence—this one more complex than the previous.
Darian's eyes narrowed slightly.
He heard it.
The fatigue.
"Should we take a break so you rest?" he asked.
Sheyb drifted aside as a circular rune formation briefly lit beneath Selene's boots before dimming—neutralized.
"That might be later," Selene answered quietly. "We're almost at the end of the floor."
Darian turned slowly, scanning the horizon of the second floor.
The word "end" felt deceptive.
The floor was massive.
His gaze lifted.
Above them, faint vertical shafts rose like pillars at distant intervals. Reinforcement columns. Structural supports. Between them, layered platforms and embedded wall structures created tiered elevation differences. It was not just wide.
It was deep.
Not downward.
Upward.
The ceiling wasn't flat—it was terraced.
Designed.
Built.
Darian's senses stretched outward.
Since Selene had removed the camouflage field earlier, the true mana density of the floor was visible to him. Not visually—but perceptually. He could feel the distribution of magical residue in the air. It was faint, diffused.
But consistent.
Organized.
Not chaotic like ruins.
Not residual like abandoned magic.
Intentional.
His jaw tightened slightly.
What could have built this?
His thoughts aligned methodically.
Dwarves?
No.
Dwarves possessed masterful craftsmanship, yes. They could carve halls and forge mechanisms beyond most races. But this density of magical layering exceeded typical dwarven inclination. They preferred tangible constructs—steel, stone, gearwork. Magic was reinforcement, not foundation.
Elves?
They had affinity for magic. Their control and precision were unmatched in ritual circles and natural enchantment.
But this?
This was systematic.
Elves built elegantly.
This floor was efficient.
And the scale of manual reinforcement required—stone shaping, layered structural embedding—was not aligned with elven specialization.
Unless—
No.
Elves did not construct this brutally.
Could it be an isolated genius?
One that backslid from their racial norms?
Possible.
But improbable at this scale.
Demons?
Darian's eyes narrowed slightly.
Demons were capable of large-scale construction and complex magical layering. Their being were rigid, structured, often built for chaos and catastrophe.
But demon architecture tended toward manipulation, evil, Intimidation, Ornate cruelty.
His mind paused.
Wait.
Could it be...
His breath slowed slightly.
No.
He did not allow the thought to fully form yet.
Ahead—
Selene exhaled sharply.
"That should be the end of it."
She lowered her wand slowly.
The faint grid of traps ahead dimmed fully, stabilizing into inert stone once more.
Finally at the end of the second floor
She inhaled.
Then another.
Her shoulders dipped slightly as tension released.
Darian stepped forward.
"Take some rest before we continue."
Sheyb drifted closer immediately, its glow shifting into a softer hue. It hovered near Selene's chest and released a faint pulse of pale energy. A gentle current wrapped around her torso, sinking inward.
Selene's breathing steadied.
The slight tremor in her fingers faded.
A refill.
Not full recovery.
But enough.
Darian inclined his head slightly toward Sheyb.
"Appreciated."
The small spirit turned its luminous core toward him.
Then rotated away with unmistakable dismissal.
A cold snub.
Darian stared at it for a second.
"…Still don't like me, huh."
Sheyb drifted back to Selene's side without response.
Darian sighed.
He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a cigarette. Placed it between his lips. Struck a small ignition spark with a flick of his thumb.
A brief orange flare.
He inhaled.
The smoke rose slowly in the vast open air, dissipating upward before ever reaching the ceiling.
He exhaled.
The tension in his shoulders loosened.
He didn't smoke for pleasure.
He smoked to think.
His gaze swept outward again.
The second floor extended in disciplined symmetry. Even where traps were dense, they were patterned. The spacing between mechanisms wasn't random. It formed designed paths.
For invaders.
Whoever designed this floor had intended no survivors through it.
There were levels embedded into the walls. Elevated observation points? Maintenance platforms? Hidden compartments?
His eyes traced faint seams where wall met ceiling.
Installed natural erosion.
Could this be one of the ancient ruins.
Even if dormant.
He crouched briefly, running fingers across the stone.
Cold.
Smooth.
Engineered.
There were no tool marks.
The edges were too precise.
His brows furrowed deeper.
Not dwarven chisels.
Not elven shaping.
This was either advanced arcane fabrication—
Or something else entirely.
Selene shifted her stance and straightened.
"I'm good," she said softly.
Not fully true.
But sufficient.
Sheyb hovered protectively at her shoulder.
Darian stood upright and crushed the cigarette beneath his heel.
He looked ahead.
Beyond the cleared trap field, the floor extended another hundred meters before the faint outline of a structural boundary became visible.
A threshold.
The transition to the third floor.
The descent to the third floor felt longer than it should have.
The spiral staircase swallowed light rather than reflected it. Selene's conjured lanterns drifted ahead of them in a slow formation, five spheres of pale gold radiance that pushed against the darkness but never quite conquered it. Their glow bent strangely against the stone, as if the walls absorbed more than just brightness.
Darian walked ahead this time.
Not by command. Not by discussion.
He simply stepped forward first.
Behind him, Selene descended carefully, one hand grazing the inner curve of the stone wall for balance. Sheyb floated between them, small wings fluttering with a soft hum of magic.
The air changed before they reached the landing.
On the second floor, mana had been dense — layered, suppressed, structured. It had pressed against Selene's senses like thick fog. But as they neared the third floor, that pressure disappeared.
The moment they stepped onto the stone threshold—
Nothing.
No suppression.
No radiant mana grids.
No magical residue.
No structure.
Just emptiness.
The lantern lights expanded into a wide, cavernous chamber.
The third floor resembled the second in architecture — broad open space, high unseen ceiling, distant walls fading into darkness. Yet something fundamental was missing.
Selene paused.
Her breath hitched.
And suddenly her legs gave way.
She staggered once, twice
Then sat heavily on the bare stone floor.
Darian turned immediately.
"Is everything alright?" His voice remained even, but his eyes sharpened. "You don't look too well."
Selene let out a tired exhale, pushing stray strands of hair away from her face.
"Of course I'm not," she muttered weakly. "I'm suffering from mana backlash… and depletion."
Her voice trembled slightly at the end.
Sustaining detection fields, dismantling layered traps, maintaining protective wards — it had cost her more than she let on.
Darian reached into the pouch at his belt without hesitation. He retrieved a small glass vial filled with swirling blue liquid.
A mana potion.
He extended it toward her.
"It's not much," he said, "but it should stabilize your mana reserves."
Selene accepted it gently, fingers brushing his. She pulled off the cork and drank.
The liquid shimmered as it went down, faint blue light tracing her throat before fading.
She exhaled slowly.
Before the potion fully settled—
Sheyb floated forward.
The spirit leaned closer to Selene's chest and raised a tiny glowing hand. Soft strands of mana streamed from its palm like threads of starlight, flowing into her.
Selene blinked in surprise.
Warmth spread through her veins.
Her exhaustion eased.
Her breathing steadied.
"Thank you, Sheyb," she said softly, smiling despite herself. "You're too kind."
Sheyb chuckled — a bright chiming sound.
Darian looked away.
He said nothing.
But his jaw tightened slightly.
Instead of lingering, he turned and walked deeper into the third floor, boots echoing faintly against the stone. He moved toward the right-side wall, which was at least a hundred meters from their starting point.
The distance emphasized how enormous the chamber truly was.
No pillars.
No visible mechanisms.
Just vast open ground.
He crouched near the edge, scanning the stonework, eyes adjusting to the dim.
Behind him, Selene continued receiving mana from Sheyb.
Minutes passed.
Gradually, the hollow ache behind her temples vanished. The backlash eased completely. The potion stabilized her reserves; Sheyb replenished what was lost.
When the flow stopped, she felt… full.
Not just stable.
Full.
She stood slowly, testing her balance.
Perfect.
She closed her eyes.
She opened every magical sense she possessed.
Mana detection.
Resonance scanning.
Ambient reading.
Structural tracing.
Her perception expanded outward like ripples in still water.
Silence.
No grids.
No wards.
No suppression fields.
No magical constructs.
Just emptiness.
Darian's footsteps approached from afar.
He returned to their starting position, stopping a few steps from her.
"Any progress?"
Selene opened her eyes.
"Nothing," she said quietly. "It feels empty. Just like the first floor."
Darian looked ahead into the darkness.
"If we make any wrong move," he said, voice low, "we'll be backed against the wall."
Selene shook her head slightly.
"More like caught by surprise," she corrected. "What could this floor hold? Could it be similar to the first?"
"Could be," Darian replied. "Or probably not."
He scanned the open ground again.
"Who knows."
Selene frowned thoughtfully.
"Maybe this one is associated with beasts."
Darian didn't even hesitate.
"It's not, Selene."
She blinked.
"…Huh?"
"I couldn't sense any life force in here."
Her eyes widened slightly.
Now that he mentioned it—
She felt it too.
No heartbeat echoes.
No breath patterns.
No beast traces.
Not even insects.
Absolute biological silence.
"That's…" she murmured. "Now this is mysterious. What should we do then?"
Darian's hand moved to his belt again.
"We'll have to find out another way."
He withdrew a short throwing knife.
Balanced.
Perfectly weighted.
He rolled it between his fingers, testing the grip, letting muscle memory settle in.
Selene and Sheyb watched silently.
Then
Darian threw.
The knife cut through the darkness with tremendous speed.
A sharp whistle.
Suddenly
Two sounds erupted simultaneously.
A thunderous crack.
And the violent clang of metal being struck.
The echo boomed through the chamber.
Then
Silence.
Selene's heart jumped.
"What was that?" she whispered. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't magic-related."
Darian narrowed his eyes.
"…Hmm."
"And at the speed you threw it," she continued, "it should've hit a wall."
"It didn't," he said.
She looked at him.
"It was shot out of the air."
Selene's pulse quickened.
"That's impossible… Could someone be out there?"
Her fingers tightened around her wand.
Darian shook his head.
"No. If someone fired, I would've seen movement. Or at least a flash."
He turned to her.
"Move one of your lamps forward."
Selene nodded.
She lifted her hand slightly, directing one of the five lanterns.
The glowing sphere drifted forward.
Five meters.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Fifty meters
Suddenly
A sharp crack split the air.
The lamp jolted violently sideways and fell, flickering before dissolving into fading sparks.
Selene gasped.
"It happened again!"
Darian stood perfectly still.
Thinking.
After a long moment, he spoke.
"If that's what I think it is… this is going to be rough."
Selene swallowed.
"What is it?"
"That might be a firearm strike."
She blinked.
"A gun? Do you mean a magi-gun?"
"No."
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
"If it were a magi-gun, we'd detect mana ignition. Spell-core discharge. Arcane compression."
"There was none," she realized.
He nodded.
"That's a gun that fires metal bullets using gunpowder."
Her brows furrowed.
"But those are limited, aren't they? On average, they're inefficient compared to magi-guns because of ammunition constraints."
"You're right," Darian said. "But based on the impact force… this one isn't average."
He glanced toward the darkness again.
"The velocity was too high. The shot was precise. The response time immediate."
Selene hesitated.
"If that's the case… we could just deplete its ammunition. Force it to waste rounds. Then move through safely."
Darian turned toward her and lightly tapped her forehead with his forefinger.
"Have you forgotten already?"
Sheyb let out a sharp little roar at him, hovering defensively.
Darian withdrew his hand.
"There has to be more than one," he continued calmly. "This floor mirrors the first. Multiple ranged mechanisms. Crossfire potential."
Selene's expression turned sheepish.
"…Oops. I guess I did forget."
"Just like the first floor," Darian went on, "arrows, blades, rotating arrays… This one likely escalates. More ranged formats. Deadlier configurations. Overlapping kill zones."
Selene sighed dramatically.
"This just gets harder with each floor."
Her shoulders slumped.
"I just want to go home…"
Sheyb floated close and nuzzled against her cheek.
She smiled faintly.
"Aww… thanks."
Darian exhaled through his nose.
"So," he said. "Now that we know it's a trap… do we walk straight through?"
Selene shot him a look.
"That would be foolish. We need a concrete plan."
He hummed thoughtfully.
"…Hmm."
And then
It happened.
A burst.
Not from ahead of them
But from deeper.
Far deeper.
A wave of overwhelming mana erupted from beyond the third floor's far end — from the path that led toward the fourth.
It wasn't gradual.
It exploded outward.
An immense pressure.
Explosive magical power that rolled through the air like a shockwave.
It wasn't visible.
But it was felt.
It crawled beneath their skin.
Electric chills.
Selene's breath hitched violently.
Her hands trembled.
Her heart skipped.
Sheyb recoiled instantly, flying backward and hovering near Selene's shoulder, glowing defensively.
Darian stood still.
But the fine hairs on his arms rose.
His gaze locked onto the pitch darkness in the direction of the surge.
Whatever was there—
Was far beyond ranged traps.
He let out a slow breath.
Then sighed.
"…Alright."
Selene turned toward him.
"What is that…?"
He didn't answer her question.
Instead—
"This seems to be the end of the investigation."
Her eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Yes."
He turned without hesitation and began walking toward the stair path leading back to the second floor.
Selene hurried after him.
"Does the information we have suffice for a report?"
He didn't slow.
"I'd say it's sufficient. Solid proof."
She glanced back once toward the darkness.
"You felt that, didn't you?"
Darian gave a low, humorless exhale.
"Oh, I felt it."
His eyes hardened.
"It's Not worth it."
The oppressive mana lingered in the distance.
But they did not stay.
They left.
The third floor remained silent once more.
They did not look back toward the overwhelming mana that pulsed at the far end of the third floor.
They did not debate further.
Darian led the way toward the staircase.
Selene followed closely, Sheyb hovering near her shoulder, still faintly glowing from the surge they had felt.
The third floor remained silent behind them.
Back to the Second Floor
The ascent felt heavier than the descent.
When they stepped back onto the second floor, the difference was immediate.
The traps they had painstakingly deactivated still lay dormant along the path they had carved through the chaos earlier. The once-lethal corridor of layered magical mechanisms now appeared almost tame.
But only along that narrow line.
Beyond it—
The second floor remained a death field.
Darian walked carefully along the exact route they had memorized. Selene retraced her steps, maintaining awareness but conserving mana.
They followed the same sequence:
Three steps forward.
Angle left.
Avoid the marked stone.
Cross between the two silent rune plates.
Step only where Darian stepped.
Even deactivated, neither of them trusted the mechanisms entirely.
As they approached the far end — the passage that would lead them back to the first floor — something felt wrong.
The corridor opened into the chamber where their earlier encounter had taken place.
Selene's breath caught.
The ground ahead was gone.
Where solid stone had once stood, a massive collapse spread outward like a wound. The floor had caved in across a wide stretch — fractured stone slabs hanging precariously over a jagged drop.
Darian stepped forward cautiously.
Fragments of stone still lay scattered across the lower recesses. Dust lingered faintly in the air.
Then—
She noticed something.
"Wait."
Darian followed her gaze.
The broken edges of the collapsed stone were shifting.
Subtly.
Slowly.
A small fragment twitched, then slid back into place. Another piece aligned with a grinding scrape.
The floor was reforming.
Not magically fast.
Not violently.
But methodically.
Piece by piece.
Reconstruction.
Darian narrowed his eyes.
"…It's repairing itself."
Selene swallowed.
"The spikes…"
They both turned.
The wall spikes that had once thrust outward aggressively now sat fully withdrawn inside their slits, as though nothing had ever happened.
The second floor was resetting.
Silently.
Systematically.
But far too slowly for them to wait.
Darian surveyed the gap.
There was no stable bridge.
No intact ledge wide enough to cross safely.
The collapsed section stretched too far to jump.
Below was a drop into darkness — not deep enough to kill outright, perhaps, but more than enough to break bones and trap them between half-repaired mechanisms.
"We don't have a solid path back," Selene said quietly.
Darian exhaled slowly.
"No, we don't."
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Then Sheyb fluttered forward.
It turned to Selene.
Without hesitation, it flew straight into her arms.
Selene caught it instinctively.
Sheyb began glowing brighter.
Its small body radiated concentrated mana.
Selene's expression sharpened.
She understood.
She began chanting softly — controlled, precise syllables.
The air around them shimmered.
A lifting force wrapped around Selene's body.
Her boots left the ground.
She rose.
Darian stared upward as she floated gently above the broken floor.
"…Hey," he called from the doorway, brows furrowing. "What about me?"
Sheyb deliberately looked away.
Darian's eye twitched.
Selene glanced down at him.
"Sheyb," she said softly, "help him too. For my sake."
The spirit hesitated.
Then slowly turned.
With visible reluctance, it floated toward Darian.
Darian stepped forward and grabbed Sheyb firmly with both hands.
"Don't drop me," he muttered.
Sheyb glared.
Then—
They lifted.
The upward force was less graceful this time.
Darian's boots scraped briefly against stone before he rose into the air beside Selene.
Together, they drifted over the collapsed expanse.
Slow.
Steady.
Halfway across—
A sharp mechanical click echoed from the walls.
Darian's eyes snapped sideways.
"Move faster—"
Too late.
A volley of arrows shot downward from hidden slits above.
Dozens.
Selene reacted instantly.
She thrust her free hand forward.
A translucent barrier expanded around them in a dome of shimmering light.
Arrows struck the barrier in rapid succession—
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Metallic tips splintered against the magical surface.
More mechanisms activated.
Blades rotated from the walls.
Thin slicing discs shot across their path horizontally.
They collided with the barrier, screeching as they scraped harmlessly against its surface before falling away.
Selene gritted her teeth.
Maintaining a barrier mid-air while being carried by an external mana source strained her focus.
"Almost there!" Darian barked.
The passage to the first floor loomed ahead.
They crossed the final stretch.
The moment they passed through the threshold—
A hiss erupted from concealed vents.
Thick toxic gas sprayed outward in a pressurized burst.
It splashed against Selene's barrier like liquid smoke.
The barrier flared brightly.
The poison slid off and dispersed.
Selene did not falter.
They cleared the corridor.
The traps behind them quieted once more.
The first floor's entrance opened before them — the ascending staircase leading upward toward the cathedral above.
The lifting force faded as their boots touched solid ground again.
Selene exhaled sharply and lowered the barrier.
The air here was stale — but breathable.
Darian released Sheyb immediately.
The spirit zipped back into Selene's arms triumphantly.
Darian dusted off his coat.
"…Took you long enough," he muttered dryly.
Selene shot him a tired look.
"You're welcome."
Without further delay, they began ascending.
The Cathedral Above
Stone steps spiraled upward.
Light gradually returned.
Faint at first.
Then clearer.
When they emerged into the cathedral chamber, daylight filtered through glass.
Dust motes drifted lazily in beams of sun.
The cathedral stood silent, abandoned, as it had since their arrival.
No ambush.
No presence.
Only stillness.
They walked across the stonefloor and exited through the cathedral doors into the surrounding forest.
Fresh air hit their lungs.
Real air.
Selene inhaled deeply.
"What a day," she muttered.
Darian glanced at the sky through the trees.
The light angle felt wrong.
He frowned slightly.
"A day?" he replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if it's been more than two."
Selene blinked.
"…Don't say that."
They continued walking through the forest path toward the direction of the Adventurer's Guild.
Behind them, the cathedral loomed silently.
Unmoving.
Unrevealing.
Beneath the Cathedral
Deep below.
Past the first.
Past the second.
Past the third.
On the fourth floor—
Two massive golems stood opposite one another.
Stone titans, unmoving, towering in rigid symmetry.
Between them—
Agatha.
Dark energy swirled violently around her form.
Arcane currents lashed outward like storm-torn ribbons.
The air trembled with condensed magical fury.
Her eyes glowed with violet intensity.
Her lips curled slightly.
"Better."
The word echoed through the chamber.
The golems shifted.
The fourth floor trembled.