I opened the rare chest, anticipation thrumming through my veins, only to be met with a wave of disappointment. The chest creaked open, revealing a small pile of gold coins and a worn leather armor piece, the same as the four others I had already collected. I let out a heavy sigh, the air escaping my lungs in a frustrated huff. Sweat trickled down my forehead, stinging my eyes, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. My muscles were sore from the constant strain, and my fingers throbbed from the countless battles. It was not worth it.
With a resigned shake of my head, I lifted my bridge, feeling the weight of it settle in my grasp. My enhanced strength, courtesy of the ridiculously powerful ring I wore, made the task feel almost effortless, though my muscles continued to protest.
I aimed for the remaining chest, determination hardening my resolve. This time, I wedged the bridge up against the chest. My heart raced, pounding in my chest like a war drum, as I took off like a bullet, not at all afraid of death.
Nope, no, sir. I was not afraid at all. This wouldn't be the end of the run; I knew it deep in my bones. The end of this floor was within reach. Third floor. Third floor. I repeated it like a mantra, a lifeline to cling to as I pressed forward.
I stared at the carpet moving in the distance, a seemingly endless expanse of rich, woven patterns that stretched out before me. The intricate designs seemed to shift and pulse with a life of their own, a mesmerizing dance that almost lulled me into a trance. But I couldn't afford to lose focus. The air was thick with the musty scent of old fabric and the faint, metallic tang of blood. My leather armor clung to my skin, damp with sweat, and the room's oppressive heat made every breath feel heavy.
I had a loose plan forming, a spark of hope amidst the chaos. I surveyed my surroundings while mentally cataloging the materials I had. The biggest problem getting to the carpet wasn't even the distance; it was the height. The drop was intimidating, a yawning chasm threatening to swallow me whole. My stomach churned with a mix of anxiety and adrenaline as I began to construct a new staircase. Each piece fell into place with a resounding thud, the wooden planks creaking under their weight.
It took me around an hour to make the new staircase appropriately. Every muscle ached from the exertion, and my hands were raw and blistered. I needed room for a running start and enough elevation to cross the gap. I stood back and admired my handiwork as soon as I was done. The staircase stretched skyward, a precarious structure that looked like it could collapse at any moment. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I tried to ignore the dread that gnawed at my insides. I focused on the carpet, watching it move downwards, knowing I needed to go now.
My worst fear was realized when I crossed the halfway mark of the staircase. I felt the support slowly giving way, the wood groaning under the strain. Panic surged through me, and I put on a burst of speed, my legs burning with the effort. I leaped before I even realized what I was doing, the world blurring around me. The staircase crumbled behind me, disappearing into the void, and for a heart-stopping moment, I was weightless, suspended in mid-air.
I grabbed for the corner tassel, fingers scrabbling for purchase. My grip slipped, and for a split second, I was sure I would plummet into the abyss. But then, miraculously, my other hand managed to latch onto the tassel, and I was left dangling like a fish on a line. My arms trembled with the effort, and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple. I felt helpless and tired; every ounce of strength drained from my body. But I couldn't give up. I gritted my teeth and pulled myself onto the carpet, breathing in ragged gasps.
I had done it. The last item I needed to clear this cursed floor was within my grasp. The thought of fixing everything with a wish crossed my mind, but a nagging doubt held me back.
Who knew what ramifications that would have? The lamp in my inventory felt heavy, a constant reminder of its power.
But could I trust that power? I banished the thought, refusing to entertain the possibility of another shortcut. I started toward the door I had never gone through, the promise of the third floor urging me forward.
Stolen story; please report.
From how the floor worked, I knew the Goblin King's room was just opposite where I had initially entered. The air grew colder as I approached, a chill seeping into my bones. My Grendelkin, ever vigilant, trailed behind me, its presence a small comfort. I took the lamp out of my bag, the cold metal pressing against my palm.
As the floating monster approached, I saw a gleam in its eyes, a ravenous hunger that made my blood run cold. Its gaze locked onto the lamp, and I immediately hid it back in my inventory, heart pounding.
"Mine!" the demon snarled, its guttural voice sending shivers down my spine. The air around us seemed to thicken with tension, and I forced myself to meet its gaze, my fear bubbling beneath the surface.
"Look," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I know you can't do anything against the Djinn or whatever, but you can let me go through that door, and I can clear this floor. I know I can't stand against you, but if I die, that's it. The lamp is gone. You can't access my corpse, and I won't leave the first floor again if I do. You’ll be stuck here forever without hope."
My words felt like a desperate gamble, but I stood my ground, refusing to show weakness.
The demon hovered in the air, its orange fur and bold eyes a constant contrast to the danger I felt. It seemed to consider my words, its malevolent gaze boring into me. I could feel the sweat trickling down my back, the cool air chilling the moisture on my skin. My heart raced, every beat echoing in my ears.
“You didn’t have to go so hard. I promise I only eat things once, and you weren’t so tasty that I feel the need to break that rule again,” it said, its voice oozing with sinister glee. My stomach twisted at the implication, confusion flickering across my face.
"Wait, what do you mean again?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. But before he could respond, all of the demons vanished instantly, leaving me blinking in the sudden brightness.
The room transformed, light and color flooding back into the space. It looked nice and cozy, like an oasis amidst the chaos. The Aerlyntium hung in the air, a tantalizing prize just out of reach. But as I placed my hand on the orb, an infuriating message appeared before my eyes.
[Insufficient organic material.]
The words felt like a punch to the gut, and I racked my brain, trying to find a solution. My mind raced, but no matter how hard I thought, I couldn't find a source of corpses for the material. The floor was almost cleared. There would be no way to bring back my friends.
Frustration bubbled inside me, a boiling rage that threatened to spill over; I bit my tongue to stop the emotion. The god's appearance was sudden, his presence overwhelming yet strangely comforting. I shook my head, not wanting the false emotions. He held his hands up in a placating gesture, his voice calm and soothing.
"I come in peace," he said, and I felt a flicker of that false hope.
“If you’re here in peace, then stop with the false emotions. I already have enough trouble keeping myself in check here.” All at once, the emotions, calm, and anger ceased. I was left with a muddling hollowness. “Why are you here by yourself?”
"Sometimes, there are no good options. Sometimes, it is okay to be upset at the circumstances we find ourselves in. While we must be slow to anger, it is not the anger itself that is the sin; it's how we direct it. Striking out in anger, attacking, or yelling at others, and blaming others for our failures all come from the sin of Wrath."
His words struck a chord.
"But what am I supposed to do?" I demanded, my voice cracking. "I'm stuck here with no way out and no way forward. How am I supposed to fix this?"
The god sighed, his eyes filled with compassion.
"You must find another way. Look deeper within yourself. Sometimes, the answers we seek are not in the obvious places."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The air felt heavy as I inhaled, each breath a struggle against the suffocating pressure.
"But I've searched everywhere. There has to be a way out of this mess." My voice was barely above a whisper, the words laced with desperation.
"Patience, everything will be fine." the god advised softly. "Oh, and I have a little gift for you waiting in one of the final rooms."
“Just remember. Sometimes, there are no good options. So you have to pick the one that does the most good. Monsters aren’t the only thing that respawns in this dungeon.” The god replied solemnly. His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. He vanished, leaving me alone with the weight of his message.
As I picked myself off the ground, I looked around at the room's pristine condition. All of the blood, all of the demon bodies, even the usual gore pile around my Grendelkin had evaporated. It was all gone, leaving the room eerily clean. I knew what the god wanted me to do. I needed to go back to the entrance.