Haaaa…

I sighed at the awkward silence.

Strange to say, but at this moment, I ironically missed lying under the scorching sun by the roadside.

Not a whole lot. Just a teeny, tiny bit.

I think I even missed Gael and the dinky ball of fire.

Shocking, I know. But I preferred all of the above over where I was heading: underground. Particularly because of who I was with. And on top of it all, I was once again smothered in cloth. But this time, I was clipped to Gael's brother's waist, who reminded me too much of Father. Our last confrontation left a chasm in our already non-existent relationship. Thus the awkward silence.

The only audible sounds were the light taps from Aeron’s boots, which descended down cascades of stone in the throat of the Stygian Dungeon. Iridescent green moss rooted on the rocky ceiling lit our narrow, downward path. But the green glow was a false light, leading prey—us—toward the belly of a terrible monster.

Yet, here I was, doing just that by entering an all-too-familiar, ancient beast. However, on the bright side, I thought of my current circumstances as one less favor I owed Gael. My dues were slowly being repaid. Heck, I might even make Gael indebted to me instead! What a thought!

Never has that happened before—someone owing me a favor and not me being owned by somebody else. I liked the sound of that.

What could I make Gael do for me? Hmmm…

A sheath, for starters. My partner must be as amazing as me: floating, talking, and all.

What else?

The possibilities made me want to grin mischievously. So I happily bounced along, tied to Aeron’s waist side as I pondered schemes to put Gael into debt.

Suddenly, Aeron stopped in his tracks.

Checking the surroundings with quick jerks of his head, his shoulders relaxed as no else appeared to be in sight. Without a single warning, Aeron then swiped away his dull, gray robe and unlatched me from his waist. The cloth wrapped around me unraveled as I fumbled into a roll in the air.

“Stay close and be quiet, Sword,” Aeron whispered his commands, sticking close along the bumpy rock wall while tucking the cloth somewhere behind his robe.

I jerked to a stop and hovered knee-high, nearly smacking the stone steps—all the while flabbergasted by the abrupt happenings. Aeron could have at least given me some forewarning.

Sword? Who, me? And quiet?

Did I want to protest? Yes, I did. When did I ever say a word or make a sound? Was Gael’s brother now hearing things? Also, I had a name. Not ‘Sword.’ Voidcutter.

But should I protest? Now? In the midst of entering the belly of a beast? It was not exactly the best time for complaints. I knew better. But later, for sure. But regardless, communication was still necessary.

“Yeah, yeah,” I whispered with a shrugging tone, “So what exactly are we doing here anyway?”

“Work. It’s time to put your skills to the test.”

“You brothers sure love to work. What am I doing?”

“Harvesting.”

Again, after the abrupt and unhelpful explanation, more awkward silence. I sighed and floated after Aeron, still clueless as to what he and Gael wanted me to do.

But how did I end up with Gael’s brother, one might ask? Let me explain a little.

After previously testing out my new awesome ability at the Whispering Plains, Gael and the cute ball of fire ditched me with his brother while they stayed on the roadside to peddle for their day’s worth of coins.

Thus, why I was currently with Gael’s brother, Aeron, in the Stygian Dungeon. To do what exactly, I did not know. The brotherly duo did not elaborate. I could not exactly ask earlier either due to the parties of adventurers walking around while on the dirt road to said Dungeon. But for certain, whatever the two brothers' goals were, it was definitely something related to Dungeon business.

How did I know?

I deduced as much as we currently approached the first floor of the Stygian Dungeon. However, after Aeron’s vague explanation, it seemed like I was going to be doing another odd job.

As we descended down the steps, the damp air began to thicken as hazy opaque light glowed at the end of the tunnel.

Hmmm… I quietly thought to myself as we exited the oblong opening into dense gray fog. Still looks the same.

Glancing around, I recognized the faint outlines of the nostalgic place. Not the most comfy of the many floors in this specific Dungeon, but I did have a few shining moments in here.

A few steps away from the entrance, questionable murky water oozed out from beneath Aeron’s boots, which sank with sloppy sounds into the soft terrain as he walked over unstable patches of grass and moss. Thank goodness I was able to float and avoid the mud. I was finally clean after many centuries. But soon, becoming grimy again would be inevitable. The immediate area was a waterlogged bog that led deeper into a tree-infested swamp.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Insects buzzed around Aeron like he was a new tasty treat. Frowning, Gael’s brother swatted away the bloodsucking pests from his face. But the finger-sized bugs were the least of Aeron’s problems. I couldn’t see them from here, but one of the more troublesome monsters on this floor ribbeted and croaked from the distant swamp. Yet, the carnivorous toads and frogs—the size of wolves and also staying in packs—were only one of the problems on this floor.

The entire area was a sinking mud trap, lurking with more toothy and vicious Dungeon monsters ready to rip apart visitors who found themselves stuck in the mud. It was a completely different world here unlike the picturesque grassland on the surface.

But I did appreciate the strange beauty of the unnatural place. There was a particular aesthetic that could be considered art if one ignored the creator who was a mass murder.

In a sense, Dungeons were master craftsmen themselves. They created many things: treasures, artifacts, lifeforms, and not forgetting to mention the entire worlds on each floor. Of course, all of it was purposely designed to eventually kill. But that was where I also thrived.

Unsurprised by the familiar surroundings, I unconsciously mumbled, “Seems like old Stygian didn’t make any changes to the first floor.”

“What do you mean?” Aeron whispered.

“Like I said, everything here still looks the same.”

“You have been here before?”

“Certainly,” I responded, not bothering to elaborate. See how the brother liked being left pondering with half answers.

“How?”

“Oh, so you want a real explanation? Funny, since you never explained much to me, I thought you liked being half-informed.”

I heard a grunt and wanted to smile with glee.

Feeling like my wrongs were being made right, I acquiesced Aeron, who got a taste of his own medicine.

“Did you forget how old I am? Your brother is not my first owner, ya know? Plenty of my previous owners have entered this Dungeon.” Boasting more after I saw Aeron gleam at me with more worth, I added, “Ha! Now you see how great I am? Old Stygian here is nothing. If you want the real goods, the Cataclysmic Dungeons are the place to go. The Nebulose Dungeon in the center of the city makes and grows even more rare and lost materials from the First and Second Era.”

“I see,” Aeron said with a small pause as he digested what I said. “Good to know. Very good to know.” My spine trembled at Aeron’s last comment as his calculating yellow eyes scanned my being. But luckily, Aeron turned away and mushed ahead through the muddy grass. “I’ll discuss your mentions later with Gael. For now, let’s keep going. We need to reach the third floor.”

However, seeing Aeron heading either bravely or foolishly—I would say the latter—in a straight line towards his goal, I tilted in the air, confused. Flying lengthwise beside his head, I asked, “Are ya trying to fight some poison frogs first before heading to the next floor?”

“No, we need to reach the third floor with the Molten Salamanders. They are our objective.”

“Salamanders? What are you gonna to do with the Molten Salamanders?”

“Not me. You. You are going to harvest them, Sword.”

If I had eyes, they would be giving Aeron a deadpan look. But two could play this game.

“Huh? Who? Couldn’t be me. You must mean someone else, Brother of Gael. My name isn’t Sword.”

Aeron stopped in his tracks. “No, you, Voidcutter. You will be harvesting the Salamanders. Especially their gem-like hearts to feed Nuria.”

“Oh?! So you do know my name. Well. Since you asked sooooo nicely, and since it’s for that cute, dinky fireball, I guess I’ll help you out.”

Aeron grunted and continued, but I immediately flew in front of him and stopped. “You said you didn’t want to fight the frogs, right? Why are you walking straight at them?”

“I would rather deal with frogs rather than giant crocodiles or snakes the size of tree trunks. Now move. We need to return before dark.”

It was now my time to shine! “Hahaha! Well, how about following me?! I know how to avoid the troublesome buggers!”

Aeron squinted his mistrusting yellow eyes, “What are you planning to do?”

“I know a safer route of sorts. As long as you follow everything I tell you, we can leave the first floor with no issues. No fighting needed.”

“What is this route you talk about? No monster fighting? How come I have never heard about it?”

“I don’t know. Only some of my previous owners knew so maybe it’s not common knowledge?”

Aeron paused before responding, “So what do I have to do?”

Finally! It was time to shine and bestow enlightenment on the foolish Aeron.

“Old Stygian likes balanced floors with little upkeep. So the Dungeon designated breeding grounds that are exclusive to one type of creature. The key is to stick to the boundaries along the territory of the different types of monsters, which are obscurely placed along the edges of the floor. We must avoid the central area, as it is a free-for-all with more older and experienced Dungeon Monsters. Unless Old Stygian added another type of creature, the route I know of should be safe.”

“…Alright, we’ll do it your way.”

“Ha! Yes!” I beamed, swishing the blade of my body through the fog in my victory.

Hands moving to his waist, the brothers must be magicians of some sort because Aeron pulled off a magic trick and took out a staff taller than he was from somewhere hidden inside his robes. Maybe he had a bag of holding? But I doubted it as those items were rare in this era.

“Lead the way,” Aeron turned to me and declared.

“Alright! Follow me, little minion.” With a snarky tone, I emphasized, “Keep close and be quiet.”

Aeron groaned at the set of words that I threw back at him. He mumbled something I could not hear, but no matter. Petty revenge was as sweet as I imagined.

Now, it was time to focus and do my odd job.

All my senses were on high alert. Although I traversed the belly of this beast countless times, Dungeons were to never be underestimated. Years have passed since I last entered Old Stygian, and the Dungeons were always up to something.

I hovered in the fog, gliding slowly forward toward the leftmost edge of the first floor. Taking a slow pace, I ensured to keep Aeron’s waddling boots as quiet as possible through the thicket of moss and mud. Luckily, the gurgling sounds of air bubbling through muddy terrain were common in the current environment. But soon the subtle sound of boots wading through water rippled in the immediate surroundings as grass and moss were overtaken by thick-bark willow trees piercing through the swamp water.