I took a deep breath, lifted my axe, and swung. The blade slammed into the stone with a dull thud, sending a shudder up my arms. Chips of stone scattered to the floor. Again, I raised the axe and struck. This time, the impact reverberated with a hollow echo. My pulse quickened. There was something behind this wall. I heaved the axe over my shoulder and swung one final time, and the wall gave way with a sharp crack.

Dust billowed around me as a narrow passage was revealed, dark and winding, leading deeper into the dungeon. My heart pounded in my chest—this was the way forward.

[Why, I say, you’ve indubitably discovered the way forward. Congratulations, my dear young padawan,] Malice drawled, his voice taking on a ridiculous, affected accent that only fueled my irritation. Then, he shifted back to his usual tone, deadpan and serious. [Are you sure you want to pursue this? You know it leads to the floor’s magical mural and the secret boss. You’re in danger of being killed if you’re not careful. I mean you have 20 health and that's it.]

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t already know,” I muttered, bouncing on my feet to psych myself up. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a blade, but I wasn’t about to let this place swallow me whole. I still needed to get through this, and there was no way I was giving Malice the satisfaction of seeing me hesitate. I gripped the hilt of my battle axe, feeling its reassuring weight in my hands. I could almost feel the spirit’s treasure waiting on the other side.

With a quick motion, I pulled a knife from my inventory and started cutting through the brick wall. The blade sliced through the material with shocking ease, brick by brick crumbling under my hands like they were made of sand. Sweat dripped down my forehead, but I didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. The promise of what lay ahead fueled every motion. My heart raced faster with each chunk of brick I cleared.

Just as I stepped back, admiring the space I’d carved wide enough to pass through, the dungeon growled—a deep, guttural sound that rumbled through the walls. No hesitation. I dove through the opening, my pulse thundering in my ears as I narrowly escaped whatever lurked behind me. I glanced back, catching a glimpse of massive, misshapen creatures too large to squeeze through the gap. For now, I was safe, but I was trapped on the other side.

“Great, just great,” I muttered, poking the gelatinous blob in front of me with the edge of my axe. The thing quivered but didn’t attack. I didn’t even know what it was, but it didn’t seem aggressive—yet.

I turned my attention to the room ahead, a massive, cavernous space that stretched out into the darkness. The faint, unsettling scent of something familiar hit my nose, making my stomach churn. As I squinted into the gloom, it became clear—signs of more Trolyiards, scattered bones and broken armor, but beyond that were small, huddled shapes cowering what remained of a once great army.

A nursery.

A cold chill ran down my spine. The last thing I wanted to deal with was baby monsters. Killing something so small, so defenseless, felt wrong. But hesitation wasn’t an option here. They were Trolyiards, after all. It didn’t matter how innocent they seemed now—they’d grow into something like the monster I had just fought.

Still, a knot twisted in my gut. My breath came shallow, quick, as though my body knew what my mind refused to accept. Just do it. Get it over with. My grip on the axe tightened, the wood rough beneath my fingers. The weight of it felt heavier now, almost unbearable. This wasn’t a choice I wanted to make. No, this was a path I’d been forced down, one I could hardly recognize anymore. But I’d come too far to let anything stop me now. The dungeon wasn’t going to give me a break, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for one.

The Trollyiard standing in front of me screeched, her voice a high, frantic pitch. Her protruding belly cradled in her arms, she stumbled backward, her sharp eyes flicking between me and the exit, searching for any hope of escape. I blanched. My heart stuttered. I had killed a king—a tyrant, sure, but still a king. Could I really kill a mother?

Stolen story; please report.

{Oh yes, this is perfection}, the voice in my head cooed, dark and malicious. I could almost feel it grinning, savoring the moment. {Like the holy grail of murders}, it continued, salivating at the thought. But I just stood there, frozen, as the monster stared back at me with wide, desperate eyes. The screech that followed wasn’t one of defiance but of fear.

For a moment, I felt like a child again, caught in a web of guilt and shame, unsure of what I was supposed to do. My hands shook, my knuckles white around the axe handle, and every instinct screamed at me to stop, to let her go. Just let her go.

Then, in a flash, the spell between us broke. She turned and bolted, her movements awkward and frantic, as though she knew this was her last chance. Each heavy step pounding in the chamber, driving home the urgency of her escape.

{What are you waiting for?} The voice snarled now, impatient and furious. {Chase after her! Finish it!}

But my feet remained rooted to the stone floor. Too late. The Trollyiard reached a switch and slammed it down, her claws scrabbling for purchase. The room shuddered violently, and with a deafening crack, a massive chasm split the floor between us, filling the space with a dark, yawning void.

I could probably jump across the gap and make it into the next area, but... did I really want to?

I let out a slow, shaky breath and sat down on the edge of the chasm, letting my legs dangle over the side. The cold air rising from the abyss sent a shiver down my spine. For a moment, the thought of just dropping into the void, of letting it swallow me whole, felt tempting. Maybe then I could reset all of my stupid decisions. Maybe then I could undo the wrongs that had piled up on my conscience, one after another.

But I knew better. That would only make things worse.

I stared into the darkness below, feeling the weight of every choice pressing down on me. I didn’t like any of this. None of it. I had come to this dungeon looking for Rod, hoping to find him, to figure out a way out of this nightmare. Instead, I’d killed the rightful king—my own ancestor, no less. The very bloodline I was supposed to honor and protect. I wanted to change my path, become better, but the words from the Book of Blood echoed in my mind, a haunting melody I couldn’t silence. They beat in time with my heart, whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could resist.

It wasn’t the first time I’d felt this pull. The first time I met Rod, it had been the same. Magic. The allure of something beyond myself. I was a month away from my coronation, and I had snuck out of the palace, desperate to escape the suffocating expectations. None of the guards cared where their future monarch was going. They never did.

I found Rod in the marketplace, of all places. He wore beat-up trousers and a faded royal red shirt that hung off him like a hand-me-down. He was scruffy, wild-eyed, and entirely too blunt.

He accused me of destroying the city in pursuit of wealth. His words cut through me, sharper than any blade. It stung more than I’d expected, hearing what the common folk thought of me. I didn’t want to be that person, the one who ruled with indifference. But I had no idea what I was supposed to say or do. And so, like a fool, I argued. We argued until we were both breathless, his voice cutting through my defenses with brutal honesty, and deep down, I knew I was wrong. I hated that feeling—knowing I was wrong but refusing to admit it.

That was Rod’s gift. His ability to get under my skin, to force me to confront the truth of who I was, even when I wanted to look away.

My heart ached at the thought of him, the longing twisting into sobs I could no longer hold back. Without him, without that stubborn conviction, I was becoming something worse than I’d ever imagined. But for his sake, I had to stop falling into these traps. These temptations were turning me against everything I wanted to be.

I wiped my eyes, my hand trembling, the chasm still stretching before me, vast and endless. It was a reminder of the distance I had to cross—not just physically, but emotionally. I wasn’t going to let this place destroy me. I couldn’t. I would find Rod, and I would live up to the person he believed I could be. The person I needed to be.

But as I stood at the threshold, the cold wind biting at my skin, doubt crept in. Could I truly face the consequences of my actions? Could I confront what lay outside, or would I fall back into old habits, fleeing when the weight of my choices became too heavy to bear?

For a moment, I hesitated, staring into the abyss before me. The path forward was uncertain, filled with danger and consequences I could not foresee.