The first part was easy. Zane teleported past the guardian and drew power from his lower core to boost his speed as he ran towards the center of the room.

The guardian chased after him, walls of spikes rising from the grooves to either side of it. Zane narrowly managed to keep ahead of the spikes, but immediately realized the flaw in his plan.

The spinning bronze ball was chasing him, and if he wanted it to return to the center of the room, he had to be in the center of the room. Unfortunately, that area was full of spikes.

“This is gonna suck!” Zane screamed as he teleported, appearing just above the spikes that blocked the exit.

With danger above and below him, Zane made a split second decision to protect what was most important to him, and summoned a heavy griddle beneath his feet. There was no way he was letting those spikes anywhere near his manly bits.

Then the flame traps in the ceiling triggered, and everything became pain. Zane summoned an oven mitt and a pot lid to act as an improvised shield, but it wasn't enough. Only his regeneration kept him from being burned away to nothing by the jets of superheated flame.

The next thing he knew, the spikes retracted, and he was falling. Zane’s eyeballs grew back just in time to see the guardian slamming back into place over the exit.

If I was a real asshole, the rogue cultivator thought as he tumbled through the darkness, I'd put one last trap by the exit to fuck over anyone who made it through. They would think they were safe, then WHAM, game over.

Zane started teleporting straight upwards to bleed off speed. It was impossible to tell how fast he was going, but the wind whipping past him had started to slow. Eventually he hit the ground, and crumpled into a heap.

“I… fucking… hate… you….” the young man grunted as he drew on his core to repair the damage.

Bones snapped back into place with sickening sounds, and after a few minutes of absolute agony, Zane was able to stand up again. He found himself in a familiar corridor, filled with dim golden light.

It was a perfect replica of the entrance, except for one minor detail. He took a step forward, then leaped backwards as the floor fell away to reveal a pit trap.

“You're not going to get me that easily, asshole,” Zane said, “I know how you think, and I'm not stupid enough to be lulled into a false sense of security.”

“What a shame,” replied a disembodied voice, “I put a lot of thought into that trap.”

Zane pulled power from his core and sprinted down the corridor, jumping from safe space to safe space. He barely managed to leap through the archway before an explosion collapsed it behind him.

He stood up and dusted himself off. The room was pitch black, and silent as a tomb. After taking a few minutes to cultivate and replenish his core, Zane summoned a light, revealing the architect’s final surprise.

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“Congratulations!” shouted a short man in a tweed robe with leather patches on the elbows. He was holding a clipboard, and wore the blameless expression of an engineer who was really looking forward to talking about his latest war crime.

“You are the first one to successfully make it through my temple,” said the architect as he approached Zane, “I really thought I had you there, but you saw through my cunning ruse and avoided the final trap.”

Zane looked down at the clipboard the architect was trying to press into his hands. “What's this supposed to be?” he asked.

“It's an exit survey,” replied the architect, “I need you to fill that out so I can improve my design.”

“What’s your name?” Zane asked as he summoned a kitchen knife behind his back.

“Oh, I'm Archibald Zemersmith. But you can call me Archie.” The short man stretched out his hand in greeting.

The young man shook it, and used his free hand to bury a knife up to the hilt in Archie’s chest. The architect looked down with horror at the magic blade piercing his heart.

“Fuck you, Archie,” Zane said, “And fuck your exit survey.”

***

After the architect died, a chime rang in Zane's head. Apparently murdering Archie had given him enough points to level up.

Instead of claiming the level then and there, Zane went to work stealing anything that wasn't nailed down. He had left his storage bracelet at home. But luckily, Archie had seen fit to provide him with a necklace that fulfilled the same purpose.

“Thanks, buddy,” Zane said as he stripped the architect’s corpse. He had found a few rings that looked magical, and a pouch full of gold. “This almost makes up for all the times you killed me with those bullshit traps of yours.”

The room was sparsely decorated. But the shelves were filled with all kinds of random arcane junk, which the young man dutifully crammed into his new storage necklace.

When he had finished taking anything of value (including Archie's corpse), Zane moved on to the next area. He found a small kitchenette, a dining room, and a bedroom.

With the use of a convenient spatula, Zane flipped over Archie’s pillow to reveal a scroll labeled Traps Monthly.

“Oh you sad little man,” Zane said as he summoned a pair of thick rubber gloves and started stripping the room. Everything besides the furniture and the linens went into his necklace.

When he was finally done looting, the young man decided that it was time to address his next problem.

“Alright,” Zane said as he searched for any signs of an exit, “Now, how the hell do I get out of here?”

***

After a few hours of searching through Archie's notes, Zane found a map that led him to a secret exit. He climbed up an ungodly amount of stairs and departed from the temple, vowing to never put himself through that bullshit again.

Groucho had long since gotten bored and returned home, which was probably for the best. Zane worked out his frustrations on the hungry spirit beasts that tried to attack him as he trudged through the snow.

By the time Zane made his way back to Hero's Step, his storage necklace was completely full of monster parts and cores. He exchanged a few polite words with the gate guards as they let him through.

With a happy sigh, Zane walked through the door of his restaurant and collapsed into a chair. His Essence reserves were overflowing, but he was exhausted to his core.

Working in the relative safety of the restaurant meant that he hadn't died in a while. And it was amazing how getting crushed to death or burned alive could affect a person if you were no longer used to it.

“What a fucking week,” Zane said as he tried to will himself to get up and make some food.

“Tell me about it,” said Kiel.