I rushed back to the spot where Eloise had left me, my footsteps quick and light, though each one seemed to resonate harshly in the thick silence of the forest. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of fear that clung to my skin. As I reached the gnarled tree where we had last spoken, I leaned against its rough bark, trying to steady my breath. The anticipation gnawed at me, the tension coiling in my chest like a wound-up spring. Would she be able to convince Elric that Martin was the traitor? Would this relentless, punishing cycle finally break?
The moments dragged on, each second stretching into an eternity. I could hear the distant sounds of the camp—the clinking of armor, the low murmur of voices, and the crackling of the campfire—all of it underscored by the ever-present, almost imperceptible hum of the oasis, a place that seemed both a haven and a trap. My thoughts raced, flitting from one worry to the next. The floor’s challenge was brutal, unforgiving, and the stakes were higher than ever. But then, just as doubt began to creep in, Eloise appeared, her figure emerging from the shadows like a wraith.
“The number of soldiers, the size of the oasis, even the traitor in the camp—all of it is in constant flux. Even the sides of the penitents change. The goal of the floor is to root out all the traitors and keep Elric alive through seven hordes of increasingly dangerous enemies. Sometimes, you’ll be given the task to kill Elric, which is an automatic pass to the next floor.”
I felt a knot form in my stomach. It was a cruel, maddening challenge, one designed to test the limits of our endurance and resolve. But now that we knew Martin was the traitor, we had a fighting chance. All we had to do was keep watch, stay vigilant, and ensure nothing happened to Elric.
“It’s an hour to the next horde wave,” Eloise said, her tone taking on a more practical edge. “You’re lucky you spawned in now. These guys are stronger, but they give way more loot. The next wave is the beast horde—Pumers and Ligers, and Lion-bears and Turtle-birds. It’s the worst wave, especially once the Owl-spiders show up.” She shuddered, her expression darkening at the thought.
“Owl-spiders?” I echoed, a shiver running down my spine at the mere mention of such a creature.
“Yeah, the bloke from the zoo who was always mixin’ creatures, man, gave me the heebie-jeebies.”
[Owl-spiders sound like so much fun! Do you think they spit acid? Oh, I hope they spit acid,] Malice chimed in, her voice gleeful in my mind.
I couldn’t help but laugh, though I quickly stifled it as Eloise shot me a puzzled look. I needed to be more careful around her and Malice. The last thing I needed was to draw unwanted attention or suspicion. I was already skating on thin ice as it was.
“So, what’s the plan?” A new voice cut into the conversation, sharp and nasal, instantly setting my nerves on edge. The tone carried an air of self-righteousness, as if the speaker believed himself above everyone else. I turned to see the source—a lanky man with narrow features and an expression of perpetual disdain. He seemed to sneer at the very world around him, his eyes cold and calculating.
“We can’t just sit around letting the bad guys plot an assassination, especially when we’ve made so much progress on the horde,” he continued, his voice grating on my nerves. “How are we keeping Elric safe?”
“Novka, we don’t discuss survival plans in the open,” Eloise snapped, her eyes narrowing with barely concealed irritation. “Besides, I wouldn’t tell you any plan—I still don’t trust you after the last run went seven ways to penance. We were on the seventh horde, and you exposed Elric’s position.”
“Oh, come on, that was an accident. No one told me the plan; how was I supposed to know he was in there?” Novka retorted, his voice dripping with insincerity.
I watched the exchange with a growing sense of unease. I didn’t like this Novka guy—everything about him screamed untrustworthy. His mannerisms, his voice, the way he carried himself—all of it put me on edge. But I had to remind myself that appearances could be deceiving. I’d learned that the hard way, and I couldn’t afford to let snap judgments cloud my thinking now.
“I don’t really get what’s going on, but I would like to be able to help,” I offered, trying to find a way into the conversation. “I cleared the first floor on my second run, so I can afford to lose a few runs here.”
“Sorry, you what?” Eloise turned to me, her eyes wide with disbelief, as if I had just sprouted a second head.
“It’s my second run,” I repeated, shrugging nonchalantly. “So I’m pretty fresh on runs.”
“How in the name of Malikap did you manage that?” Eloise asked, her voice incredulous. “I made it out of that zombie-infested maze with 20 lives lost, and I felt pretty quick.”
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[Most crystals got nothing on me. I told you I’m the best,] Malice chimed in, a smug tone to his voice.
I ignored Malice, focusing instead on Eloise’s astonished expression. “I got lucky that I grew up in the castle and knew the best way to handle my father. Made it easy,” I explained, hoping to downplay the significance of my words.
But the effect was immediate and profound. The group of penitents around me dropped to the ground in unison, kneeling as if I had just revealed myself as a divine being. Their reverence, their sudden deference, sent a blush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. I hadn’t meant to reveal my identity like this, but now that it was out, I had to own it. I had to be the leader they expected me to be, even if I wasn’t sure I deserved it.
As I stood there, their gazes heavy on me, the weight of the situation pressed down like a physical force. My mind drifted back to the days in the castle—days filled with opulence, yes, but also with a constant, gnawing fear. My father had been a looming presence, his shadow darkening every corner of my life. He was a man of power, of influence, and he ruled with an iron fist. I had always known that being royalty was more than just wearing a crown, but I hadn’t truly understood the burden until I was forced to bear it myself.
And now, here I was, in this twisted, merciless place, with the ghosts of my past haunting me at every turn. The penitents looked at me with something akin to awe, with expectations that I wasn’t sure I could meet. The old doubts resurfaced, the same ones that had plagued me during my reign. Was I truly fit to lead? Had I ever been?
“Oh, oh no. You’re the queen? How did you die? What’s going to happen to the kingdom? To my family?” A new voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. The speaker was a towering man, taller even than my father, with a thick, well-trimmed beard that was tied into a neat knot just below his shoulders. His voice was tinged with panic, his eyes wide with fear.
“My great-grandpappy told me how awful things were during the necromancer wars,” he continued, his voice trembling slightly. “The constant stress of dying kings was enough to make him want to flee to Aerlynt.”
The title “queen” echoed in my mind, stirring up a whirlwind of memories. I remembered the day I had ascended to the throne, the uneasy feeling in my gut as I looked down at the nobles who bowed before me. I had stood there, under the weight of my father’s legacy, feeling more like a prisoner than a ruler.
And now, those feelings were resurfacing, gnawing at the edges of my resolve. Eloise’s sudden, heart-wrenching sobs snapped me out of my reverie. Her shoulders shook with the force of her grief, and I stood there, helpless, unsure of how to comfort her.
I’m sure that my father is running things just fine; he was king, after all. The words tasted like ash on my tongue; my words of assurance about my father’s reign fell on deaf ears as she looked up at me, her face a mixture of sorrow and anger.
“Oh, you think your father was good? He was a real jerk, that one. No respect for the little people,” she sneered, her voice thick with disdain, her tears streaming down her cheeks.
Her words hit me like a physical blow, sharper than any blade I had faced in this cursed place. The man I had feared, the man who had ruled with such authority, was now being revealed to me in a different, more sinister light. My father, the man I had tried so hard to please, had not just ruled with an iron fist—he had been feared, loathed, by the very people he was supposed to protect.
A dull throb began to form in my temples, and I rubbed them in frustration, trying to make sense of her accusations. Her words were like arrows, each one finding its mark, each one causing more pain than the last. “That’s not... I didn’t—”
“Of course, you didn’t,” she interrupted, her voice rising with anger. “You were just a child. But when you became queen, it became your responsibility, and you failed. Now, our country has no hope. No heir, no way out of the mess you left behind.” Her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and grief, and her eyes blazed with a fury that was palpable.
I stepped forward, the weight of her accusations pressing down on me like a leaden cloak. Gently, I wrapped my arms around her trembling form. “I will fix this,” I vowed softly, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. “May Rellum witness my pact. I will make it out of here and save our country, save your family.”
But even as I spoke the words, doubt gnawed at the edges of my resolve. Could I really fix this? The kingdom, my father’s legacy, the tangled mess I had unwittingly inherited—it all seemed too vast, too complex to unravel. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t let her down, not after everything she had suffered, not after everything I had caused.
Her expression hardened, and she pushed me away, her voice cold and distant. “It’s too late. What do you think I died of?” she demanded, her words like icy daggers.
I paused, unsure of how to respond. But she didn’t wait for me to find the words.
“Starvation,” she spat, her voice trembling with rage. “After my husband was fired from the palace guards and replaced by a sycophant, we couldn’t find jobs. When the paupery stopped providing food for adults, we starved. And it was all your fault.” Her eyes were blazing with a fury that was all-consuming as she lunged at me, daggers in hand.”It’s all your fault. You’re a monster.”
I held my hands up defensively and backed away from her anger. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t know things were that bad. An absolute lie. Rod told me every day, and what did I do?
Like a chant, Eloise said, “Monster. Monster! MONSTER!” Over and over again each word louder than the one before it.
Everything happened in a blur. I barely had time to react before the cold steel of her blade found its mark, piercing my eye with a searing pain that shot through my entire body. The world exploded into a cascade of stars and agony as darkness consumed my vision, swallowing me whole.
[Critical Strike. You have died.]
The notification rang in my mind, a cruel punctuation to the overwhelming pain and the last fleeting thought.