Tibaut was lying on the floor with Agnes standing close by looking concerned. She had her hands on her face.

“A-are you okay?” She meekly asked.

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes.” He weakly responded.

The adrenaline had worn thin and the damage was now starting to catch up with him. That little bastard did a doozy to him.

(“Damn, I either blackout or get healed by Elizabeth before this sort of pain kicks in.”)

He slowly forced himself to his knees and used Agnes as a hold to pull himself up.

He felt something nagging at his head and an urge to move west.

(“At least tell me it's that way, instead of this weird thing to my head you bitch.”)

He looked west and sighed before walking. Agnes cautiously followed behind.

When they exited the room they were greeted by a new set of murals on the wall. The stone of this layer also had eerie blackness. He had to increase his flame’s size five times to get visibility equivalent to the last floor.

On the murals were flames that stretched several metres wide with no tips visible at their highest points. Within the flames were various figures with horns, tails and wings looking in a single direction.

“I guess a dungeon wouldn’t be complete without some strange decor.”

Knowing what the voice told him earlier, he knew these drawings were more than symbolic.

(“Don't tell me I'll have to watch out for some flames now?”)

His eyes briefly glanced at the floor and he noticed more dust. Out of sheer curiosity, he picked it up and threw it forward. He ensured his flame stayed far behind him and this little action of boredom proved to be useful. There was no dust cloud formed and all the particulates fell like lead sinking in water.

(“Hmph, so not only was he using his magic, it probably wouldn't have been possible unless he used it.”)

Agnes wasn't sure what he was trying to prove with this and watched on in interest.

“Hey, Agnes, do you know what that priest guy's magic is?” He asked an unnecessary question.

“Um, it looked like it stopped things?” She answered.

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Tibaut was honestly happy with this answer. He wouldn't know how he would have felt if he had the answer to Father Daniel's magic before their battle.

“But I'm surprised you knew it was him.” She commented.

“If someone that strong wasn't the priest, I'm not sure I would have survived this long.” He responded, continuing to walk ahead.

(“Of course, he knew you idiot!”) She berated herself.

“(Hmm, I wonder if there's anything else I should know about him.) Hey Agnes, could you tell more about that priest?”

She stopped for a moment and started thinking.

“Well, I guess the main thing is that he's old. I remember reading something and he told me he remembered it being published when he was younger.”

“(Old? I guess the way he acts is kinda strange but I'm pretty sure I've seen kids act that way when I was younger when they wanted to seem mature.) What's strange about that?”

“The book was made 50 years ago. My mom gifted it to me when she got a more recent copy.”

(“That guy's at least fifty!? I just thought he was a prodigy or something.”)

“We always assumed he had some elf ancestry but, weirdly, his ears look normal.” She commented.

“(I guess that makes sense. Kobolds exist, and I heard Vanessa's part dwarf too. Elfs aren't off the table.) Ugh, don't tell me that guy's gonna live to two hundred or something.” He said with his head held down.

“I know right?” She responded downcast. “I also remember him using a weird-looking weapon.”

“(He uses weapons? Dammit, don't tell he's gonna be waiting for me with those) What are they?” He quickly asked.

“He had a bag of caltrops and a weird chain weapon. It looked like a chain attached to a small sickle. I've never seen him use them before but I can't imagine how they work in combat.”

(“Hmm, that sounds kinda familiar. Ahh.”)

He didn't know they were called kusarigamas in his old world but he recognised them as weapons jobbers would use in mangas like Fist of the North Star before being killed in one hit.

“(So he can stop stuff in addition to that weapon. Ugh, I don't even wanna think about fighting him with that.) Thanks, that seems important, anything else?”

“He’ll sometimes play chess but that's it for useful information, I think.” She said.

“Well, at least I won't be blindsided when I see that weapon.” He sighed before continuing to walk.

It was at this point he noticed something that would make their escape somewhat tricky.

“Um, Agnes?” He asked calmly. “Where's my shirt?”

They both stopped and she fell to her knees and placed her head between her hands. (“I forgot the map, didn't I? How did it even slip my hands, oh right I dropped it when I saw Father Daniel, that old bastard. I can't believe-”)

As she cursed in her head Tibaut crouched down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry, you saved me back there, the fact I even have your magic on my side is more than I can ask.”

“(Oh, maybe this isn't so bad… I guess that old bastard didn't ruin my chances with him.) T-thanks.”

And with that, they began exploring the fifth floor in earnest. And quickly ran into some trouble.

She had black hair with a white iridescence. A single black wing and scraps of clothing covered her chest and lower half. Straight black horns adorned her forehead. It was a mixture of familiar and subtle differences.