Outside the Dungeon
A warrior woman stood with her muscular frame clad in armor that shimmered in the dappled sunlight. Her eyes were fierce, her hand resting on the hilt of a sword at her side. Beside her was a mage, her robes flowing like water around her, and her hair a cascade of fiery red. There was an intensity about her, as if she were ready to unleash a torrent of magic at a moment’s notice. The third figure, a man with a large shield, stood with an imposing stature and a sinister grin stretching across his face.
“How long is Kiel going to be in there?” the warrior woman asked, her voice cutting through the tranquil forest sounds.
“I don’t know, but I think we should go after him,” the mage replied, concern lacing her tone.
“He probably found some prey he’s playing with,” the shield man remarked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“He always takes his time,” the warrior woman muttered, her gaze fixed on the entrance of the dungeon.
Just then, the heavy doors of the dungeon creaked open, and Myuk stepped out, the remnants of his recent battle still fresh in his mind. He was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the forest, but as his eyes adjusted, he took in the scene before him.
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The three figures stood in a loose formation, their focus shifting to him. Myuk’s gaze drifted over the trio with the same indifference he would show a pile of leaves on the forest floor. Their posturing, their anger—it was all meaningless noise. He had already decided his path, and nothing they said or did could alter it.
The warrior woman’s brows furrowed, and she stepped forward, her posture defensive. “Huh? Who is this, and why is he wearing Kiel’s sword and cloak?”
Myuk turned his back on the trio, fully intent on exploring the forest that beckoned him.
“Bastard! What did you do to Kiel?” the mage shouted, her voice rising with anger.
But Myuk promptly ignored them, his mind already focused on where to go next. He began walking forward, unfazed by their words or behavior.
The shield man had other ideas. He stepped into Myuk’s path, blocking his way with a smug grin that mirrored Kiel’s own. “Tch! Looks like we get to have some fun!” he sneered, clearly underestimating the boy before him.
To them, Myuk was nothing—a weakling who had somehow found himself outside the dungeon wearing Kiel’s belongings. They didn’t see the power he held, didn’t feel the darkness that had taken root in his soul. Their ignorance, their casual dismissal, ignited a spark of rage within Myuk, one that burned hotter with every word they spoke.
The shield man took a step closer, his grin widening as he prepared to strike. But Myuk remained still, his eyes cold and unblinking, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. The forest held its breath, the calm before the storm.