Christopher spun to face the oncoming monstrous ghouls.

His goal wasn’t to defeat them entirely but to slow them down so that he could escape this chamber. Once he did, he could ditch the light crystal without fear of the five-fingered terrors following him.

The leading ghoul arrived, its right arm lashing against Christopher’s face. He ducked and slashed forward, intent on cutting through the creature’s chest. However, he aborted his attack in the middle of the movement and stepped back.

He had just remembered what happened last time when Jules had cut the hands from one of these terrors. He wasn’t sure if they would scatter into the shadows or climb through his legs and try to burrow into his body, and he didn’t intend to find out.

Having missed his opening, Christopher found himself on the defensive. His grip on the sword was slipping as he did his best to dodge and parry the ghoul’s relentless assault.

He desperately searched for a chance to strike back, but unlike a spear, the sword required technique and courage. To land a blow, he would have to step into the ghoul’s range, something he found very hard to do.

Help came from where he least expected it.

The ghoul he had struck with Triangulation Beam finally arrived, charging recklessly towards Christopher. In its blind haste, it tripped over the other ghoul, momentarily distracting them both.

Christopher wouldn’t let this opening escape. He dashed forward, cutting through the leading ghoul's kneecap. A spray of foul blood hit him right in the face, but he didn’t let it slow him down.

He broke into a sprint, using his newly upgraded Grace state to leave the ghouls and Jules behind. However, before he could leave the chamber, two terrifying calls echoed through the cavern.

What are they doing? Christopher wondered, glancing at the distant ghouls.

The answer came a moment later.

From the tunnel ahead, the sound of an avalanche of clattering bounds echoed, rushing towards him like a storm. The racket grew louder with each passing second, swallowing his heartbeat in its approach.

Christopher dropped the sword and collapsed to his knees, clutching his head. Covered in blood, sweat, and grime, he shivered.

I’m going to die, he realized. Not even his cowardly act of leaving Jules behind had saved him.

He regretted stepping onto the 3rd floor. He should have insisted against it. That bad feeling in his gut had been a warning, a sign that something terrible was about to unfold.

Tears fell from his eyes as the memory of his sweet, loved Christine replayed in his mind. Her light, curly hair. Her cute little freckles and her teeny tiny fingers.

Christopher sobbed.

If this were a movie, this would be the moment when his powers would reveal themselves. He would suddenly experience a surge of enlightenment, transforming his despair into strength.

But this was the cold, cruel world.

The ghouls poured into the cavern, drawn by the haunting calls. As they entered, their heads turned, and they instantly locked onto the light coming from Christopher’s waist.

It will be over any moment now, he told himself, letting his arms drop helplessly to his sides.

Christopher’s hand lightly grazed his pocket and felt a hard bump. Curiosity piqued, he fished out a small object, grimy and bloodstained–a dark piece of bone resembling a tooth.

[Name]: Infected Morman Molar

[Type]: Consumable (1 use remaining)

[Description]: The Morman were cursed long before the one of Countless Hands ensnared them in his grasp.

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Would one choose death or an eternal curse of defilement? Only the Morman might hold the answer.

Ingest to temporarily surround yourself with an eerie, irresistible aura to nearby terrors.

His eyes darted back and forth, reading the bright runes on his vision over and over again. Christopher’s heart beat wildly on his chest as realization hit him. He couldn’t prevent a dry laugh of resignation from escaping his lips.

“This fucking Labyrinth,” he cursed out loud.

Christopher picked up Jules’ sword with a trembling hand, the burning hot hilt painfully biting into his already wounded palm. Slowly, he rose to his feet. This was a miserable place–one that had offered him no mercy, not even once.

He steeled himself, collecting his remaining strength, and moved back towards the ghouls–towards Jules’ body.

The two massive ghouls lingered near the boy’s unconscious corpse. They hadn’t bothered chasing Christopher–maybe revealing a sign of intelligence. Perhaps they knew the incoming tidal wave of terrors they had summoned would trap Christopher. He had no escape.

The light illuminated Jules’ body, now festering with wounds and blood. The five-fingered terrors recoiled at the brightness, many scattering into the shadows, but many others remained. They redoubled, their bloodstained fingernails frantically clawing at his flesh, tearing into his soft tissues.

Fortunately, Jules’ chest still rose and fell with each breath. Christopher suspected that he needed the boy alive for what he was about to do. But first, he had to get by those two ghouls, and he didn’t have much time.

Christopher threw caution to the wind and ran towards the closest ghoul, who was half-kneeling on the ground. The air was painfully kicked out of his lungs as he intentionally crashed into the creature.

Caught off guard, the ghoul struggled, its bone spurs scratching Christopher’s torso, but before it could deliver a critical injury, Christopher struck its head violently with the sword’s pommel, repeating the motion relentlessly until its skull was reduced to a gruesome pulp.

As he struggled to stand, another jagged bone pierced through his shoulder, pinning him to the ground. The second ghoul pressed him down with the bone spur on its arm while viciously trying to stomp on his abdomen with the spiked protrusion on its foot.

Christopher didn’t waste time crying in pain. He focused on the eerie hands hanging from the creature’s chest and used Triangulation Beam. There was a flash of blue light, and the terror was pushed back, wailing in pain.

At the same time, a splitting headache assaulted Christopher, nearly knocking him senseless. The approaching clatter of bones jolted him back to reality. He had only a few seconds left.

He didn’t waste time finishing the remaining ghoul. Instead, and despite his injuries, he dragged himself towards Jules, fueled by sheer determination.

I guess this is who I am, he thought. Christopher wasn’t sure if he was doing this to save Christine or himself, but he knew he didn’t have time to ponder it.

With bloodied fingers, he pried open the boy’s mouth and forcefully shoved the Infected Morman Molar down his throat. Jules struggled for a moment, nearly choking on the tooth, but after a moment, he swallowed it just in time for the new wave of ghouls to arrive.

“I’m sorry,” Christopher apologized again, landing a gentle kiss on Jules’ bloodied forehead.

An eerie aura suddenly erupted from Jules, causing all the surrounding creatures to halt.

The ghouls, entranced by the light and about to jump onto Christopher, turned their heads towards the unconscious body. At the same time, the five-fingered terrors, who lurked in the shadows, stepped forward onto the light before rapidly retreating back again.

Christopher ignited whatever blood he had left and used Crimson Proof on his most critical wounds before dropping the light crystal to the floor.

It was time to go. The very thought of what he had just done filled him with disgust. If he forced himself to watch what was about to happen, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to live with himself afterward, no matter how much he loved his daughter.

He turned around and started sprinting.

A shrill, whistling sound cut the air from the end of the tunnel. A golden flash pierced through a ghoul about to pounce on Jules. With a loud bang, the terror exploded into a shower of flesh and gore, momentarily stunning Christopher.

A massive golden spear was left stuck into the stone floor, still vibrating intensely due to the immense force behind it. It was as thick as Christopher’s leg and had to be at least three meters long. A white trail followed it, floating aimlessly across the chamber as if a loose thread fluttering in the wind.

The nearby ghouls tripped and fell. At some point, their limbs got tangled on the white thread, hindering their movements–the more they tried to escape, the more entangled they got.

Christopher raised his head, scanning the end of the chamber, searching for the source of the spear. His eyes failed to pick up any movement. However, his ears picked something.

Voices. Human voices, speaking in an unknown dialect.

A faint rumble echoed throughout the chamber. He frowned, unable to identify the sound. Whatever it was, it was approaching fast.

Help? Now? Christopher despaired, almost overwhelmed by the current chain of events.

From the shadows, the five-fingered terrors finally pushed through their fear and broke into the light, swarming over Jules’ body. Meanwhile, despite being tangled in the eerie white thread, the nearby ghouls dragged themselves across the floor, determined to consume the boy.

What have I done? He realized.