In a dark, cavernous space, a handsome man with piercing blue eyes lay sleeping on a flat stone. His beautiful armor, adorned with azure designs, gleamed faintly even in the dim light of the cave. Behind him, rows of soldiers clad in disciplined silver armor stood motionless, their posture unwavering.

Beside the sleeping man, another figure—a man with brown hair and sharp black eyes—sat calmly, shuffling a deck of cards with remarkable skill. The soft rustling of the cards was the only sound, aside from the rhythmic snoring.

The door to the chamber bore a design similar to Alistair’s, but only two of its orbs glowed. Suddenly, a radiant stream of light surged upward, filling a darkened orb until it shone as brilliantly as the others.

The soldiers watched in awe as the door groaned deeply. With a thunderous creak, the massive slab began to open, dust and debris cascading from its ancient hinges as the mechanisms roared to life. The sound echoed through the cavern.

“Sir Jasper! Wake up, the door is opening!” A girl with blonde hair and brown eyes called out urgently. Unlike the others, she wore no armor, only a simple cloak that swayed as she moved.

“Huh? Is it morning already?”

"Sir Jasper, we're about to enter the dungeon and face unknown dangers! Please take this seriously!" the girl pleaded, frustration tingling her voice.

Jasper sat up, yawning and stretching. He glanced at the girl with a teasing smile.

“Miss Lia, it’s still morning, and here you are, so full of energy. Truly, an inspiration to us all. I should aspire to be like you."

“You—” Lia began, her cheeks flushing with frustration. She stopped herself, though, when a man in black armor glanced at her, his piercing gaze sending a shiver down her spine. The card shuffler beside Jasper paused, his dark eyes shifting to their leader.

“Did you sleep well, Sir Jasper?” he asked.

“Yes, I did. On a scale of one to ten, I would rate it a seven. What about you, Aenon? Do you have fun shuffling your cards all night?”

Aenon, taken by surprise, sheepishly scratched his head.

“My apologies. It’s a habit. I can’t help but feel nervous in your presence, Sir Jasper. I will do my utmost to prove myself worthy of the Azure family’s trust.”

“You're the one my father recognized; there's no need for such modesty,” Jasper said with a chuckle. Rising to his feet, he walked over to the man in black armor.

"So, Sir Theo, what’s the situation?" Jasper inquired, his tone casual yet inquisitive.

“I regret to inform you, Sir Jasper, that I cannot accompany you into the dungeon. There’s a barrier that prohibits my entry, even as an A-rank,” Theo replied, his voice calm but laced with regret.

“I understand. There's no helping it. Thank you for accompanying us this far,” Jasper said thoughtfully, nodding.

“Do you still wish to enter the dungeon? I must advise against it, Sir Jasper. A barrier strong enough to block an A-rank is unheard of.”

“We’ve come this far, haven’t we? We might as well see it through."

Turning to his soldiers, Jasper’s demeanor shifted, he spoke with a commanding presence, yet his usual nonchalance remained.

"Prepare yourselves. We’re heading into the dungeon. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can get back to sleep.”

“Yes, sir!” the soldiers replied in unison, their voices brimming with resolve.

As Jasper approached the now-open door, Theo called out.

“Sir Jasper, if you insist on going, please exercise caution. If anything happens to you, I’ll never be able to face the lord. I’ll remain here, waiting for your safe return.”

Jasper looked back over his shoulder, chuckling and dismissing Theo’s concerns with a wave.

“Sir Theo, you worry too much. Everything will be fine. After all, I’m immortal.”

As Jasper’s team stepped into the unknown, deep beneath the earth, another force stirred—one far less noble.

⊶☽☬☾⊷

In the flickering glow of a fire, a towering man sat hunched, his massive frame dominating the space. Nearly three meters tall, he wore the severed head of a wolf like a crown, its bloodstained fur draped over his shoulders in a grim mantle of conquest. Greige Wolfangs tore into a slab of roasted meat with sharp wolfish teeth.

Beside him lay the colossal, lifeless corpse of a monster—two times his size—its blood pooling darkly on the cavern floor. His massive sword, still smeared with the beast’s blood, rested within arm’s reach.

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Behind him, the ancient door loomed, its surface carved with intricate patterns and glowing faintly. Two of the orbs embedded in the door gave off a faint, flickering light. A group of rough-looking men sat around the fire, tearing into their portions of the kill. Their crude laughter and crude jokes filled the air, mixing with the occasional crackle of flames.

Beside Greige, a woman clung to him, her arms draped over his broad shoulders. She was dressed inappropriately for the cold, her revealing attire doing little to conceal her curves. She pressed close to him, running her fingers along his cheek as though staking her claim.

“Boss, you’re incredible! Taking down a C-grade monster like that—it was nothing for you! No doubt, you’re the strongest C-rank alive!” one of the men exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

Greige grinned, his teeth sharp and wolfish. The firelight cast flickering shadows across his scarred face as he leaned back against a rock, exuding raw confidence.

“Hah! That overgrown cat was barely worth my time. When that door opens, I’ll take down that useless bastard and that damned bitch. The artifact is mine—and no one’s going to stop me”

His henchmen erupted into cheers, raising their meat and mugs in celebration. The woman beside him pouted slightly, her tone playful but tinged with concern.

“But, hubby, are you sure this is safe? We sent out so many people to investigate, and none of them could confirm if the artifact is real…” she murmured, her finger tracing small circles on his chest.

Greige smirked, tearing off another bite of meat and speaking through a mouthful.

“Look around, sugar. This cave, this door—and that key lighting up? That artifact’s in here. And when I get my hands on it, not even those so-called heroes will be able to stand against me.”

“Well, if you say so, hubby…”

Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled, causing loose pebbles to clatter and roll. The fire flickered as a deep groan resonated through the cave. All eyes turned toward the massive door at the far end of the chamber. Dust cascaded down in sheets as the ancient slab shifted, the grinding of stone against stone reverberating through the air.

“Boss! Look! The door—it’s opening!”

Greige rose to his full, imposing height, grabbing his massive sword with one hand. He towered over everyone, his shadow stretching long and dark.

He turned to his men, his piercing gaze sweeping over them like a predator surveying its pack.

“What are you waiting for, you bastards?! Move! The artifact’s waiting for us!”

“Yes boss!”

The men roared their agreement, grabbing their weapons and supplies. Sugar clung to Greige’s arm as he marched forward, the light from the door illuminating his towering figure.

Beyond the growing firelight of Greige’s camp, in the silent corridors of the dungeon, another predator lurked.

⊶☽☬☾⊷

The heavy thud reverberated through the cavernous hall as Alistair’s boot collided with the massive door. A dull vibration rippled through the stone structure, the force barely stirring the dust that clung to its ancient surface. It remained unmoved, an unyielding monolith of defiance.

She stepped back, narrowing her crimson eyes at the intricate carvings that adorned its surface—twisting symbols and archaic runes that pulsed faintly, mocking her efforts. A sharp exhale escaped her lips, irritation simmering beneath her composed exterior.

“No matter what I try, this damn door won’t budge,” she muttered, brushing a stray strand of black hair from her face with a flick of her fingers.

Turning away from the door, her gaze swept over the dungeon's interior. The long, foreboding hall stretched endlessly into shadow, the wavering torchlight casting restless shapes along the jagged stone walls. The flickering flames whispered secrets in their dance, their light too weak to dispel the oppressive darkness lurking beyond.

A faint, acrid scent of decay hung in the air, curling into her lungs like a silent warning. It was the stench of time long forgotten, mingled with something fouler—something that felt alive, yet was long dead—pricking at her heightened senses.

She had already tested every angle—walls, floor, even the ceiling. Nothing gave way. The material was unnaturally resilient.

“Fine,” she said with a casual shrug.

Guess I’ll deal with whatever’s ahead instead.

Her boots tapped against the stone floor as she moved forward, the silence of the dungeon broken only by her measured steps. But then, a sharp crack echoed through the hall. Her eyes snapped forward as a skeletal hand burst from the ground, its bony fingers clawing at the air.

A skeleton? Really? I was hoping for something more challenging…

At the same time, the map she’d been holding began to shift in her hand. The ink of the old note bled away and reformed, letters appearing as if written by an invisible hand. Intrigued, she glanced down briefly—but her attention snapped back to the skeleton as more of its form emerged. With glowing red eyes and a rusted sword clutched in its hand, it locked onto her, emitting an unnatural groan that grated on her nerves.

“Wait. Give me a minute,” she said nonchalantly, raising her hand in a dismissive gesture as if addressing an annoying street vendor.

Ignoring its guttural sounds, Alistair focused on the map. The words appeared slowly:

——

"Oh, brave warriors! Do—"

——

The skeleton groaned louder as its body fully emerged. Without waiting, it lunged forward, its sword raised in a clumsy arc. Alistair’s foot shot out in a swift motion, connecting with its chest. The skeleton shattered on impact, its bones scattering across the floor. Its glowing eyes dimmed and flickered out as the sound of splintering bone echoed through the hall.

“Must you be this bothersome? I already warned you. Now, if you’ll allow me, I’d appreciate some quiet time to resume my reading.”

Her attention returned to the map, which had now fully rewritten itself. But before she could read further, the ground trembled beneath her. Alistair turned, her crimson eyes narrowing as more skeletal hands clawed their way out of the earth.

One by one, they emerged—some adorned in rusted armor, others wielding bows or wands. A few wore tattered cloaks, their hollow eyes glowing ominously. Their numbers grew rapidly, the clatter of bones filling the hall as they surrounded her.

Alistair's expression darkened as her gaze swept over the growing horde.

"You insignificant pests dare to disturb me?" she spat, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Very well, prepare to discover the true essence of death—not merely the fleeting end of a moment, but the eternal termination of existence." she declared. Her fangs glimmered subtly as a chilling smile spread across her face.

The air grew heavy as her words echoed through the hall. The shadows at her feet began to writhe and ripple like living creatures, spreading outward to darken the ground beneath her. Slowly, they took form—rising silently from the darkness, their cold and menacing presence sending an unnatural chill through the room.

Each shadow loomed with a palpable aura of malice, their shapes solidifying into warriors armed with various weapons. Some clutched daggers, others wielded swords, their dark blades glinting faintly in the flickering torchlight. Though their numbers were fewer than the skeletal horde, Alistair’s smirk remained unwavering.

𓆩✧𓆪