Adrien let out a long, heavy huff of relief, his boots clicking onto the solid stone on the far side of the tunnel. He leaned against the wall, his face caked with sweat from the heat of the trap, but at the end, they had actually made it. He turned back to look at the massive grid stretching out behind them, shaking his head in disbelief.
"That was amazing, Vera," Adrien said, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead with his forearm after he removed his helmet.
"Seriously. If you hadn't figured out how to navigate the trap, we would be a pile of ash right now."
Vera sighed, dusting a streak of white chalk off her hands, though her gaze remained fixed on the remnants of the miniature map she had scratched into the ground, which she had then somewhat erased before crossing over, her brow furrowed. "That trap was a mess. Usually, there's some sort of logic to these ancient ruins. A straight line, a predictable zigzag, something, but this? The safe tiles didn't even connect properly. It was completely haphazard."
Adrien winced, his joints still aching from the awkward leaps he'd had to make and that awkward heat. "It really was erratic. For the first two rows, we're golden in column four; the third row forces us to jump a tile over, and then it camps on column three for three rows straight. Whoever built this place was a sadist."
He kicked a loose piece of gravel, his eyes drifting from the grid to the shadows just beyond the safe zone. A few feet away, a grotesque shape emerged from the gloom. It was a badly charred skeleton, pinned flat against the floor beneath the crushing weight of a deactivated guardian automaton.
The machine was entirely inert, its metal limbs locked in a permanent, violent grasp.
"Well, mystery solved on what happens if you step on the wrong tile," Adrien said, stepping closer to inspect the wreckage. "Looks like this poor NPC got roasted by the environmental damage, but the mob kept trailing them anyway. Even with the fire chewing through its chassis, it managed to maintain aggro and pin them to the dirt."
Vera stepped closer, leaning over the debris to inspect the remains.
"It's a woman."
"What?" Adrien blinked, resting his hands on his hip as he questioned her, "How can you tell? There's barely anything left but ash and calcium."
"The pelvis," Vera said matter-of-factly, tapping the edge of her chalk against her chin.
"The skeletal structure of the hip bones differs significantly between males and females, and hers are broader. It's a highly accurate anatomical render for an RPG."
Adrien stared at the bones, then up at her, thoroughly baffled. "Huh. Can't say I ever spent much time studying hip anatomy in high school."
"If you ever decide to actually pursue that engineering degree instead of just talking about it, Adrien, you'll find out you have to learn a lot of unexpected things." Vera knelt carefully to avoid the jagged edges of the broken machine. "People think engineers just play with gears, but biomechanics is huge. If you want to design medical hardware or prosthetics in the real world, you have to understand the flesh they're meant to serve."
"Right. Figures it all connects back to your college textbooks," Adrien muttered, looking down at his own rifle. Then, his eyes narrowed as he noticed something strange about the automaton's armour plating. He crouched down, using the barrel of his gun to nudge a piece of the cracked metal aside.
"Hey, Vera... look at this, and I wouldn't pity her just yet."
Vera looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. Our bullets couldn't even leave a dent on these elite mobs," Adrien pointed out, tracing a massive, melted crater right in the centre of the guardian's chest plate. "But look at its core, as at the absolute last second, while she was burning alive, she must have popped a massive high-tier spell. She bored a hole clean through its heavy armour and melted its internal wiring from the inside out."
He looked up, following the angle of the blast. High above them, the dungeon ceiling was marred by a massive, violent scorch mark, gouged deep into the ancient masonry.
"Damn," Adrien whispered, a newfound respect taking over his voice as he stood back up. "We don't know how many years ago this happened, but she took the damn thing down with her."
Vera suddenly went rigid, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Do you think it's her? I mean, matching up the clues… the last person recorded entering this dungeon was the Princess."
"Maybe, maybe not," Adrien said, though he sounded sceptical. "A pampered princess dealing out this much raw damage? The lore diary never mentioned anything about her being adept at high-tier mage arts."
Vera nodded slowly, conceding the point. "True, and according to the historical archive, the last time this dungeon was successfully opened was five hundred years ago. Who knows how many people have entered before then?"
"How utterly unsightly people have become, losing all sense of proper decorum the moment they are faced with royalty."
The unfamiliar voice cut through the dark, making both of them flinch. They spun around in unison, rifles already raised and shoulders locked, training their weapons into the shadows behind them.
An ethereal figure hovered in the gloom, barely holding the shape of a woman. She was a horrifying contradiction, a shifting, semi-translucent visage of regal beauty wrapped around a badly damaged skeleton. Through the shimmering, gossamer fabric of her rich, noble gowns, her bare ribs and cracked spine gleamed a faint, sickly green. It was like looking at a corpse submerged in glowing water, the phantom flesh doing nothing to hide the rot beneath.
"How utterly uncouth," she hissed, her voice carrying a chilling, melodic cadence. "Have you no shame, gawking at a lady of my standing? A lady already betrothed, no less? Your eyes deserve to be gouged out for such atrocious insolence."
"A thousand apologies, my lady," Adrien said quickly, lowering his rifle just enough to try and placate the spirit. "We were merely awestruck by your... ethereal presence, and your sudden arrival."
"Hmph. Useless, sycophantic drivel," she retorted, crossing her translucent arms. "If your repentance is genuine, you will cease whatever trivialities brought you here and attend to my decree. Fail me, and I shall ensure your punishment is severe."
Vera caught Adrien's eye, giving him a subtle, guarded look before addressing the spirit. "And how exactly can we be of service to your Ladyship?"
"Return to the capital at once," the phantom commanded, her spectral gown rippling as she gestured back toward the surface. "Seek an audience at the Royal Palace and inform them of my predicament. My Royal Father will dispatch the vanguard. Furthermore, you are to search for my fiancé. He is undoubtedly trapped within these lower sectors and requires aid. Depart at once."
A bright holographic window flashed into existence between Adrien and Vera, accompanied by a sharp chime.
━━━━━━━━━━━[QUEST ACQUIRED]━━━━━━━━━━━
Title: The Princess's Decree
[ Description ]
Escape the depths of the ancient ruins and deliver urgent word of the lost royal expedition back to the surface.
--
[ Objective ]
• Escape the dungeon alive.
• Deliver the Princess's message to the King.
• Locate and rescue the Lost Prince Consort.
--
[Warning]
• The dungeon layout has shifted; backtracking through previous routes is impossible.
--
[Rewards]
• XP depending on the state of the message
• Royal Favourability bonus
• ??
--
ACCEPT: [YESNO]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Instead of rushing to obey, the duo stood perfectly still, staring right through the glowing text at her. With a flick of his wrist, Adrien picked the decline button. The window shattered into harmless pixels.
The phantom froze, completely stunned, and then her visage twisted into a terrifying, green-lit screech. "How audacious! I offer you clemency as a reward, and you dare lollygag in my presence? You reject my command?!"
"Who even are you?" Adrien asked calmly, as he didn't bother arguing with her logic; he just needed a straight answer.The question seemed to hit the spirit like a physical blow. The ghostly light around her fractured bones flared violently, her hollow sockets widening in utter shock and disbelief.
"You… you dare pretend not to know me?!" she shrieked, the phantom light around her fracturing as her form trembled with rage. "How dare you, you insolent, irascible peasants!"
Vera simply shrugged, her tone entirely nonchalant. "Look, we aren't omnipotent. We've never met you before, and names don't exactly hover over people's heads in this zone. So, who are you? Capital of which country? Who even is your fiancé? You told us absolutely nothing and started ordering us around like dogs."
Vera turned her back on the spirit, adjusting her gear. "This is the modern era. Go handle your own business. Let's go, Adrien, we have a dungeon to explore."
"Right behind you, Vera," Adrien replied with a smirk.
The ghost stood paralysed in sheer shock. Watching the duo actually walk away, her royal pride collapsed into sheer panic. She flickered out of existence, instantly reappearing right in their path to block the corridor.
"Stop! Just stop!" she cried out, her spectral hands raised defensively. "I will tell you… I will tell you who I am."
The spirit drifted a few inches lower, her posture stiffening as the blinding green flare of her rage simmered down into a low, defensive hum. She smoothed the spectral, tattered silk of her gown with translucent, trembling fingers, trying desperately to piece her shattered dignity back together.
"I am Princess Jefimija," she announced, her voice dropping its screeching edge, replaced by a hollow, ringing solemnity. "The youngest daughter of the High House of Neman, and the true jewel of the Nemanian Empire."
"Huh!"
That was the most eloquent reply Adrien could muster. He blinked, completely thrown off. Her identity didn't match up with any of the lore they had been piecing together before entering the dungeon. This wasn't the princess they had expected at all.