The darkness ahead was absolute. Our torches seemed to struggle against it, their light creating only small bubbles of visibility that made the shadows beyond seem even darker. The ancient stones absorbed the light greedily as if they’d been starved for it during their long isolation.

“This isn’t natural darkness,” Lysa murmured as she waved her torch around. “It feels… different… oppressive… Like it’s swallowing the light, our torches can't penetrate it.”

"Everyone stay close," Tirion said, his shield raised. "We don't know what—"

A metallic click interrupted him.

Critical Warning: Trap Activated! Threat Level: Harmless…. Until you get hit Recommendation: MOVE!

I dove forward on instinct, tackling Estella as something whistled through the air where she'd been standing. Multiple somethings. The sound of metal striking stone echoed behind us.

"Arrows," Lysa said, her magic illuminating several wicked-looking projectiles embedded in the wall. "Ancient, but still quite lethal."

"Thanks for the save," Estella said, quickly getting back to her feet. “That was close.”

"Pressure plate," I said as I knelt to examine the floor, keeping a careful distance from the trigger.

Inspect

The stone itself was masterwork quality, cut with precision that shouldn't have been possible with ancient tools. Tiny scratches marked where countless grains of sand had worn against its surface over centuries, but the mechanism beneath remained pristine.

"Classic design. Weight-sensitive, probably calibrated for human mass." I commented.

More interesting were the impact patterns in the wall - not just our fresh arrow holes, but others that were barely dusty. Days old at most.

The scuff patterns around the plate edges told the story clearly: our fresh marks from moments ago, and beneath those, another set that couldn't be more than a day or two old. The angle of the footprints suggested someone moving with purpose, not stumbling blindly.

Ancient Pressure Plate Quality: Masterwork - Construction exceeds known historical capabilities Condition: 98% functional despite age - Internal mechanism shows minimal wear Note: Multiple activation patterns detected - Evidence of previous triggering beyond current group

"Someone beat us here," I said, pointing out the recent scuff marks. "Within the last couple of days. And they knew what they were doing - these aren't random tourist tracks. See how they avoided the obvious trap triggers?"

"Within the last couple days?" Tirion's ears twitched forward, his knight's training evident in how he immediately began scanning the shadows. "Must be one of the other guild teams. The quest board was pretty crowded when we signed up."

I studied the floor ahead, noting subtle differences in the stonework. The traps were clever – if you didn't know what to look for, the triggers would seem like natural wear patterns. "See these slightly darker tiles? It's probably all pressure plates. The wear pattern is too uniform to be natural. We'll need to—"

"Watch this!"

Estella sprang forward before anyone could stop her. She danced across the trapped floor - three quick steps, a spin, another four steps. Each movement was precise, calculated. No wasted motion. The kind of fluid grace that came from years of performance transformed deadly terrain into just another stage. A final twirl brought her to safety.

Acrobatics Check: Perfect New Achievement: Dancing with Death

"Show-off," I muttered, smiling despite myself. Leave it to Estella to treat a death trap like her nightly performance.

"Your turn!" She swept into an elaborate bow. "Just pretend it's a dance floor! With slightly higher stakes."

"Right. Because that's just what I need - performance anxiety on top of regular anxiety." I stared at the trapped floor with considerably less enthusiasm. I wasn’t built for gymnastic performances. “I’m not sure about this, Not all of us have your agility.”

"Then let's try something else," Lysa said. Purple light flowed from her staff, washing over the floor. The shadow magic revealed dozens of pressure plates, their triggers glowing like pale stars. "I can hold this for two minutes. Move carefully."

We crossed one at a time. Tirion went first, his plate armor forcing slow, deliberate steps. His ears swiveled at every creak and groan from the ancient stone. I followed his path exactly, keeping my eyes locked on the next safe spot. One wrong step meant triggering whatever traps remained. More arrows, spikes, or maybe even acid. Who knows what was in vogue in ancient times.

We were almost across when a new sound echoed through the corridor. Something between scratching and slithering, accompanied by a clicking that had nothing to do with trap mechanisms.

"Please tell me that's just the tomb settling," I said, already knowing better.

"No such luck." Tirion's ears swiveled toward the sound. "Something's coming. Multiple somethings."

The darkness ahead seemed to ripple, and then they emerged—twisted shapes that moved like a horrible fusion of centipede and human hand. Their segments gleamed with an oily iridescence, each one tipped with what looked disturbingly like human fingernails.

Hand-Centipedes Level:9 Threat Level: Moderate Is it a hand or a centipede? Maybe don’t think too hard about why it has manicured nails.

I instinctively moved backward, but the pressure plate behind me gave an ominous click.

Warning: Trap Activated! Evasive Action Required Status Effect: Movement Restricted

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Don't move!"

Shadow Shield

Lysa's magic wrapped around me like a purple cocoon, freezing me in place as arrows whistled through the space where I would have dodged.

The hand-centipedes took advantage of the distraction, skittering forward with unnatural speed. Their fingers clicked against stone as they spread out to surround us.

Combat Initiated Multiple Hostiles Detected Warning: Confined Space - Combat Penalties Apply

"Formation!" Tirion barked, shield raised. "Lysa, behind me. Noctus, guard our flanks. Estella—"

"Already on it!" She was in motion before he finished, chakrams spinning out to slice through the nearest creature. It shrieked with a sound like breaking glass, but didn't slow. “Too tough.”

I drew my sword. Two of the creatures lunged at me simultaneously, forcing me to awkwardly parry. The impact flung me backward, but something about how my blade caught gave me pause.

Inspect

The skill activated, and my enhanced perception zeroed in on the creature's segmented body. Each armored plate gleamed with an oily sheen, but at the joints, microscopic gaps appeared when the segments moved. The natural armor couldn't maintain complete coverage while allowing flexibility - a necessary engineering compromise. Even more telling were the fresh scratches around these seams, where previous attacks had nearly breached the creature's defense.

Hand-Centipede Joint Structure Primary Defense: Overlapping chitinous plates - 98% coverage Vulnerability: Joint seams required for movement Structural Weakness: 2mm gap appears during full extension

"Their joints!" I called out, the analysis confirming my theory. "The armor plates have to split there to let them move. That's where they're vulnerable!"

Estella immediately adjusted her attack pattern, her chakrams now targeting the creatures' connecting segments with surgical precision. Each precise strike made the creatures spasm and recoil, their previously fluid movements becoming jerky and uncoordinated.

"Keep hitting those weak points!" I shouted, ducking under a retaliatory swipe. "Once the joints crack, they can't—"

Three centipedes suddenly surged between me and Tirion, forcing us apart. Two more lunged at Estella, driving her back toward a side passage.

Spellblade 10%

I channeled mana into my blade. One grain, two grain at a time. Trying to remember the limits of how far I could push this blade. The sword hummed faintly as the enhancement took hold, each molecule of metal briefly aligned by the magical current.

The enhanced blade caught the centipede mid-lunge. For a moment, there was resistance - then the magic-charged edge found that perfect joint seam and the creature split apart with a sound like breaking glass. Both halves writhed independently, fingers still twitching, before finally going still.

But even as my target fell, three more creatures surged into the gap it left. Purple light flared as Lysa's shadow magic crackled to life, dark tendrils lashing out to pin one of them against the wall. The monster thrashed violently, its segments cracking under the magical pressure.

"They're trying to separate us!" Lysa interrupted, shadow magic crackling around her staff. Purple tendrils lashed out, pinning one creature against the wall. The monster thrashed violently until its segments began to crack under the magical pressure. "We need to—”

“LOOK OUT!"

A centipede detached from its ceiling perch in the split second before Lysa could react. Its segments uncoiled like a striking snake, aiming straight for her exposed neck.

Shield Bash

Tirion planted his back foot, twisted his torso, and drove upward with his shield arm in one fluid motion. The metal edge caught the creature at its center mass, enhanced by the full power of his planted stance. The impact produced a sound like a watermelon hitting concrete.

The creature's segmented body folded around the shield's edge, its natural armor buckling from the concentrated force. The blow launched it sideways, sending it careening into the stone wall with enough force to crack its carapace. Oily fluid leaked from the splits in its segments as it slid down the wall.

The remaining hand-centipedes seemed to hesitate, their finger-tipped segments twitching uncertainly. Our coordinated attacks had disrupted their swarm behavior. Each successful joint strike made them more erratic, less organized.

The tide began to turn. The creatures' attacks became more desperate, less coordinated. One by one, they fell to our enhanced weapons and coordinated strikes. The last few tried to retreat into their wall passages, but Lysa's shadow tendrils dragged them back into range of our weapons.

"Everyone okay?" I asked, breathing heavily. My arms felt like lead weights, but we'd won.

"That," Estella said, retrieving her chakrams with a flourish, "was actually kind of fun. In a terrifying, could-have-died way."

Level up

Lysa Level : 8 HP: 100/150 (+20) MP : 30/40 (+5) ATK : 14 (+1) M.ATK : 30 (+3) R.ATK:16 (+1) DEF: 15 (+1) M.DEF: 25 (+3)

Tirion Level: 9 HP: 278/350 (+36) MP : 11/11 (+1) ATK : 22 (+3) M.ATK : 5 (+1) R.ATK:8 (+1)

DEF: 45 (+4)

M.DEF: 24 (+2)

Estella Level 7 HP: 100/140 (+20) MP : 15/18 (+3) ATK : 14 (+1) M.ATK : 14 (+1) R.ATK: 30 (+5) DEF: 15 (+1) M.DEF: 14 (+2)

Noctus Level 7 HP: 130/165 (+20) MP : 100/140 (+10) ATK : 15 (+1) M.ATK : 95 (+5) R.ATK:18 (+1) DEF: 15 (+1) M.DEF: 63 (+3)