Annie found herself inside a dimly lit cave, similar to the first floor. Water dripped from the ceiling and the ground was muddy, with puddles here and there.

“Finally, some visitors. I was starting to… You!?”

A familiar voice drew Annie’s attention. It was attached to a pair of bright, orange eyes. The man had fox ears and a noble’s purple shirt. However, his entire outfit was covered in mud, and his face hadn’t been shaved in days.

“Did you put a tracker on me?” Nunac stood up from his corner, the only part of the cave that was actually dry. “Curiouser and curiouser. You’re not even a mutant, are you? And you’re here alone...”

“Where are my friends?” asked Annie.

“Already making demands.”

“We touched the statue together. What did you do?”

Tiny fireballs gathered around Annie’s body, and the girl started walking towards him.

“Wait, wait just a moment. Didn’t the guards give you ropes to tie yourselves with? Without them… This doesn’t make any sense. Without a rope, imbued with the dungeon’s mana, you should’ve been scattered all over the place from the beginning. How did you make it all the way here? Hell, the spiders should’ve mutated like crazy by now. Your friends should be dead. You should be dead, or tearing through Phoenix like a rabid dog off the leash.”

Annie launched a flurry of fireballs, but they all froze just inches away from their target.

“Haven’t we done this before?” Nunac smirked.

“There was still poison inside my body. The statue has healing effects, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t answer any of my questions, so why should I answer yours? By the way, your boyfriend and the loud-mouth girl are finished. If the spiders didn’t get them already, my colleagues definitely will. There are five exit points on this floor, and each one is guarded by a trained killer. You know, somewhat like you if you had lost your head.”

Suddenly, the ground where the cave met its only exit lit up, and a moment later, a wall of stone fell from the ceiling.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” said Annie.

“And I’m not planning on letting you go.”

“You’re going to teach me array magic, and you’re going to pay for the trap on the fourth floor.”

“You should add the one on this floor to your list too. Also, the orphanage slaughter in Phoenix: Butcher couldn’t have done it without my arrays.”

Annie threw another barrage of fireballs which once again froze mid-flight.

“You never learn, do you?”

“Actually…” Annie snapped her fingers, and the fireballs blew up. Nunac coughed wildly while summoning a gust of wind to blow off the dust and debris.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I should’ve brought more clothes.”

“That’s the least of your problems.”

While Nunac summoned water to wash off his teary eyes, the middle of the cave cracked and caved in. Four, tiny, blue rings were revealed within the cracks, which Annie immediately proceeded to destroy.

“Thank you.” She started clapping with a smile.

“For what?”

“For trapping yourself in. You know, mana reacts when I’m angry so I do my best to stay calm. But, you hurt my friends… and my pride.”

“So?”

“So, I need to beat you.” Annie summoned a fireball. “And now I can finally take my time.”

…………………………………………………

Somewhere else, on the fifth floor, Tommy found himself inside another damp cave. He was covered in mud, from head to toe, and even after standing up, the murky water reached all the way to his knees.

“Identify yourself,” he told the person sitting on the other side of the cave. It was someone large, but his exact figure could not be distinguished due to the dim light in the cave.

“Just one?” The enemy sounded displeased. “You sound old.”

Tommy pulled out his longsword.

“I will give you one more chance. You smell of blood, and there should be no one with your figure inside the labyrinth at this time.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“Identify yourself, or…”

Suddenly, Tommy lifted his blade and a thick piece of metal smashed into it. There was such force behind the blow that the boy was thrown back.

He recovered his balance in a split second and pushed his heels into the muddy ground. He dodged to the left, and like a truck, the mysterious man flew past him and smashed into the cavern’s wall.

Tommy stepped back and then took a defensive stance.

“From this point forward, I will assume we are enemies.”

“Irritating… You talk and talk, but your face is pretty. You look young, just like him.”

The fat man threw a tiny skull at Tommy, and right when the boy’s eyes caught sight of it, he charged in with his hatchet. It had a dull blade, but it was highly durable, designed less for cutting and more for inflicting the maximum amount of pain.

The two warriors clashed and exchanged blow after blow, causing ripples in the murky water and tiny dents in Tommy’s longsword. As soon as he noticed this, he jumped back, grabbed the sword with one hand, and pushed it forward like a fencing sword. The mysterious man tried to get around it, but the teen was fast and the man’s body was large.

“I’m going to carve out your eyes with your own tip.”

“You can try.”

“Do you know what’ll happen when I get my claws on you? If only fear could be preserved after death. I heard you can rip out the brain and bandage the skull, but it never works. The skin dries up, you can’t see the emotions.”

The fat man pulled out another tiny skull and crushed it with his bare hands: a failed product.

He had bat-like ears and no tail, razor-sharp canines, and thick arms reminiscent of dwarves. He was dressed in dirty rags, and his face was unassuming. If one were to see him walking the streets, he’d look like a cook who’s had an accident in the kitchen, a farmer after a long day’s work, or a butcher.

After this latest display of cruelty, Tommy breathed deeply. He held in the air for ten seconds, and exhaled for five.

“How cute.” The butcher too started breathing in a pattern.

The two men’s muscles soon bulged abnormally, with steam escaping and filling up the cave. Butcher approached while licking his hatchet, and Tommy lifted his longsword above both of their heads.

“Scared?” asked the butcher, only a foot away from his target.

“Not of a person, and especially not of you.”

“I will savor your screams.”

“You’ll forfeit the ability to hear them.”