DEATH REALM — 6TH FLOOR
— Well, well…
Ysabella exhaled as she slowed her pace.
—Look who we have here… the spoiled princess.
Yorelei stopped abruptly and slightly turned her head, her cold eyes sliding over Ysabella without truly looking at her.
— I don't need you, she replied sharply.
— You're in my way. Go play somewhere else.
Ysabella grimaced.
— What a pain… Whatever. We need to get down to the fifth floor. The others are waiting.
They moved forward side by side despite the tension, their footsteps echoing through the white corridor.
The air felt unnaturally thick, as if the labyrinth itself were holding its breath.
Suddenly—
— Watch out!
Yorelei leapt without thinking.
A deformed mass burst out behind Ysabella. A grotesque creature—a twisted, five-legged horse pulsing with viscous magenta aura—lunged to crush her. Yorelei intercepted the attack just in time, shoving the thing back with a wet, sickening sound.
— Y-You saved me! Ysabella gasped.
— What is that thing?!
A nonchalant laugh answered her.
Leaning against the wall, a man watched them while casually drinking a magenta liquid from a small flask. His gaze was glassy, almost absent.
— Oh, that? he shrugged. Just my aura.
The horse suddenly dissolved, melting like warm wax before reshaping. The sticky mass took the form of a three-legged sheep, which flung clumps of adhesive wool.
In an instant, Ysabella and Yorelei were slammed against the wall—immobilized.
The magenta paste shifted again.
A soldier formed before them, sword raised.
— Great… Ysabella muttered.
We're going to die glued to a wall.
Before the blade could fall—
— Hey.
A silhouette stepped in.
Rasfi.
No aura.
Just a plain sword picked up from the ground. His gaze was hard—but determined.
He blocked the soldier's strike with a metallic crash.
— Hah… he said with a crooked smile. Couldn't just leave ladies in distress.
— You?! Yorelei exclaimed, stunned.
— Are you kidding us?! Ysabella added. You tried to kill us not long ago!
The man with the drink burst out laughing and dismissed his soldier, reforming the gelatinous mass around himself.
— You'll understand soon enough, Rasfi replied.
Why things are the way they are.
Yorelei clenched her teeth.
— We need to attack the man, not his aura. This is a waste of time… I could've ended this easily with my dagger.
Ysabella fired a volley of arrows to cover Rasfi. Their opponent retreated, running down the stairs leading to the fifth floor.
Then—
He stopped.
His body exploded into a spray of magenta aura… before reforming into multiple goo-like soldiers, each armed.
— Fantastic… Ysabella groaned.
The man and the horse were aura constructs. We've been attacking nothing.
— We're on the fifth floor now,
Yorelei replied calmly.
Everything is fine. He's not very offensive. We can ignore him.
Rasfi narrowed his eyes.
— No… I get it.
He pointed at the soldiers.
— His drink. Same color as his aura. Magenta. That's the source.
Ysabella blinked.
— Now that you mention it… the horse, the sheep, the soldier… they all had a small flask.
— Exactly, Rasfi confirmed. We hit that.
Yorelei allowed herself a faint smile, surprised.
— Aura-less fighters analyzing this quickly… impressive. Leave it to me.
---
Meanwhile — Third Floor
Louis climbed the stairs carefully, each step calculated.
The path was long—but safe.
He could almost see the exit.
Then a lazy voice rang out.
— Ohhh… where do you think you're going, kid?
Louis froze.
Clint.
Lieutenant of the Freebooters Clan.
— Damn… Louis whispered.
Clint chuckled as he drew his weapon.
— I hate kids. They cry all the time. So you—since you're small—I'm gonna shoot you. Sound good?
He aimed.
Pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
The bullets fell to the floor one by one.
A heavy silence settled.
Clint swallowed, then forced a nervous laugh.
— W-Well… I'll be generous.
Louis brought his hands to his mouth.
He was laughing.
Too much.
Clint inspected his gun.
A tiny needle was blocking the chamber.
He slowly raised his eyes.
Louis was laughing so hard he was crying.
Clint's orange aura exploded outward.
— This time… you die.
Louis' laughter slowly turned into fear.
The shot rang out.
— Goodbye, Clint murmured.