Enya drifted toward the bookshelf, a strange sense of detachment washing over her, as if she were observing her own body from the outside. This allowed her to perceive things she wasn't consciously directing her attention toward. Even without turning around, she could sense everything around her with relative clarity.

Her eyes fell on a book resting on the bottom shelf, titled "King's Revolt." The cover depicted a sword embedded in the crumbling wall of a castle. She bent down, her fingers brushing lightly against the spine before gripping it and giving it a gentle tug. The book lifted as if weightless, as though it had been hovering in place all along.

Opening it, the pages told a seemingly ordinary tale of a king desperately trying to protect his empire—nothing unusual at first glance. But something tugged at her awareness. She glanced back at the spot where the book had been, sensing a faint, lingering mana still in its place. It was hard to define, like an invisible force or an ethereal field of mana that clung to the space.

Carefully, Enya crouched lower, knees bent to her chest, as she inspected the spot. In her regular vision, it was just an empty corner of a bookshelf, but her perception told her there was something more to it.

Enya slowly reached out and placed the book back to where it had been. Instead of resting perfectly on the wooden shelf, the book resisted gravity’s pull, and hovered, ever so slightly—a fraction of a finger’s width from the ground.

There was something weird about this spot, and this particular book, but Enya couldn’t explain why. Seeing, and more importantly, feeling, that there was some type of odd mana that rested there, gave Enya an idea.

With only a slight effort, Enya channeled mana into her hand, and reached out to grab the book again. Instantly, her hand felt like it was reaching into something ethereal. it wasn’t violent or intrusive—but indescribably odd.

The book resisted at first, until the entire bookshelf began to shake. In that instant, before she fully registered the movement, Enya was already several meters away, sensing that something was happening.

The bookshelf creaked ominously as it slowly rotated, unveiling a hidden passage behind it. A sharp, biting cold brushed against her face, and white, misty air seeped out, crawling across the floor like a creeping, frozen fog. A staircase stretched downward into the darkness, but only the first two steps were visible. Beyond that, it was as if the darkness consumed everything, a dark void that even she couldn’t see through, despite her skill.

“Pell didn’t tell me there was a murderer in this dungeon…” Enya muttered, her thoughts drifting to the murder mystery book she had read. She slowly backed away from the eerie passage, the glowing yellow in her eyes dimming as she retreated.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

Pell was middle-aged now. He had spent the entirety of his youth and early adult years in the first layer. After years of working his ass off, he was finally able to ascend to the second layer. He had spent 2 years working as a merchant in the second layer, and several more than that in the first—before dying and becoming trapped in the dungeon for four years.

He had little time to form long-lasting relationships with others, never mind getting into actual relationships or having children. Pell wondered what it would be like sometimes. But perhaps it would be for the best if he didn’t. He did have someone in mind, but... It was a difficult situation.

After meeting Enya, he was 100% sure he didn’t want kids.

Pell strolled down the dimly lit halls of the dungeon, lost in thought. He was caught between memories of the past and worries about the future. Was it possible to become a human again? His musings were abruptly interrupted by a voice—an urgent, frantic voice that was both alarming and utterly ridiculous.

He was walking back to the study until he saw Enya running down the hall toward him in a panicked frenzy. She was spouting absolute nonsense about… a murderer?

“Pell! There’s a murderer behind the bookshelf!” Enya’s voice echoed down the corridor, growing louder with each step.

First, Pell hadn’t seen a single person in the dungeon for the four years he had been imprisoned here. Second, that study was untouched for probably decades when Pell first found it, and it had an enchantment on the door to block most monsters out. How the hell would someone still be alive in here, and why would they even pick right now to attack? Pell was used to ridiculous ramblings, but this was something that far surpassed his expectations.

Pell groaned as he asked, “What the hell are you talking about, kid? Also, don’t leave the damn study. Although there aren’t many monsters on this part of the floor, we can’t have you dying to some random zombie that-“

Cutting him off, she ran up to him and grabbed his arm, practically dragging him back toward the study.

“Goddamnit kid, will you let up already?” Pell protested, wriggling himself off of her grasp.

Wait. Not out, but off?

“Hey! Give me back my damn arm!” Pell yelled out, as the tiny loot goblin continued running, his severed arm still in her grip.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

After a minute of running, Enya had finally realized that she had been carrying the severed arm of Pell, instead of Pell himself. She soon ran back towards Pell, who had been walking at a near casual jog, and had apparently been holding a pile of novels in his other arm the entire time.

Pell snatched his arm back from the little girl and snapped it back to his shoulder.

“The hell is going on? What’s making you panic and run so damn quick? You’re like that damn demon rat with how fast you scurried off,” Pell said with disdain as he shifted his shoulder around to pop it back into place.

“T-There’s a murderer! There’s a bookshelf, and and and, this book, and mana, and I-I- Whoosh!, the cold-“

“Holy hell, kid, will you slow down? I can’t understand a damn thing you are saying,” Pell stated.

With a small nod, Enya took in a deep breath, before resuming her tale, “I unlocked my innate class. Then, I got this skill that lets me see things really, really, good, and then I noticed there was something weird on the bookshelf,” Enya explained slowly.

Pell nodded his head, waiting for the girl to finish.

“I grabbed a book that was floating in the air, and then I put it back—then I picked it up again using mana.”

“Okay…” Pell said, unsure of where this was headed.

“Then, the bookshelf moved! It was like that book you gave me! There’s a dark staircase behind the shelf, and there’s a murderer down there!” Enya exclaimed, pointing her finger down the hall, toward where the study was.

Pell’s face scrunched up. What the hell is this brat talking about?

He was stunned, mainly by confusion, and less of the actual content of her recounting. His mind raced to process what Enya had just said. He cursed himself under his breath. He was regretting ever giving her that murder mystery novel. What had he been thinking? Giving a child a book about murder was not his brightest idea. Maybe there was something seriously wrong with him after all.

“Enya, there’s probably no murderer down there,” Pell said, trying to sound reassuring, though his patience was wearing thin. “Not everything you read in books is real, especially a fiction book. I mean, come on, you read a story about a world with no magic or monsters. How unrealistic is that? Just because the story had some secret room behind a bookshelf doesn’t mean there’s a murderer or whatever you’re imagining down there.”

“But—but—” Enya stammered, her eyes wide with fear.

“No buts,” Pell interrupted, his tone firm. “Calm down and listen to me. The book was meant to entertain you, not educate you. It wasn’t real. Sure, plenty of castles in the major kingdoms have hidden entrances and exits in royal courts, chambers, and bedrooms. It’s not as uncommon as you think,” Pell explained. “And no, that doesn’t mean there are murderers lurking in those castles.”

“Well… probably,” Pell added, scratching the side of his skull. “Some castles do keep prisons underneath, so maybe there are murderers and serial killers inside the castles.”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“See! See! You just admitted it! There is a murderer down there!” Enya exclaimed.

Pell groaned, rubbing his forehead with bony fingers. Why was dealing with children so infuriating?

“Alright, look. I’ll head back to the study with you and check out this hidden passage you’re talking about, if there really is one—“

“There IS!” Enya shrieked, cutting Pell off before he could finish.

Pell's eye sockets tightened, a sign of his growing irritation. “—if there is one,” he continued, emphasizing the word, “then we’ll figure out what to do. If it’s as real as you say, maybe it’s an exit to a lower floor, or some other hidden chamber.” He paused, eyeing her skeptically. “But if there isn’t a secret passage, then I’m banning you from all of my novels for a week. Understand?”

Enya’s face twisted in disgust, the mere suggestion that she’d fabricated the story, offending her deeply.

“Fine! But if there’s a murderer in there that kills you, then you owe me a brand new book! My own book!”

Pell stared at her, taken aback by the unexpected demand. “Like… a blank book? One to write in? Like a journal or a diary?”

The little girl nodded vigorously, her eagerness unmistakable.

image [https://i.imgur.com/ZiLMGqb.png]

After a few minutes of walking in delicate silence, they arrived back at the study. Pell pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside. Immediately, his gaze fell upon the bookshelf at the back of the room. It was no longer in its usual position; instead, it had been rotated outward, revealing a staircase behind it that led down into pitch-black darkness.

“Damn, you were actually—” Pell’s words were abruptly cut off as he caught a flash of movement in his peripheral vision, something darting beside him so quickly it barely registered in his skull.

“Wha—” Pell's exclamation was cut short as something cold and unyielding grabbed his clavicles and slammed him backward into the wall with terrifying force. The impact sent a sharp crack through his bones, a sound that would have been alarming to anyone with more than just bones, but Pell’s skeletal body managed to stay relatively intact. The books he carried scattered all over the floor.

“Argh...!” Pell groaned, struggling to loosen the grip of his sudden attacker. “You damn—how the fuck did you get in here?” he spat, his voice tinged with a mix of fury and disbelief.

In front of him was a zombie, but not the feeble, weak, and decaying kind he was used to encountering in the halls. This one was different—stronger, more intact. Its flesh clung stubbornly to its bones, not peeling away or hanging in loose, decayed strips. It was as if the corpse had been reanimated only recently—its body still in unnervingly good condition.

“P-Pell!” Enya’s voice cut through the tension, a high-pitched scream coming from the hall. Pell's gaze darted to the little girl, who stood just a few meters away. She was torn between stepping in to help, or staying outside. She hovered at the threshold of the doorway, her body caught in a half-step, uncertain whether to advance or flee.

“S-stay out there, kid!” Pell commanded, voice shaky as he tried to peel the zombie off him.

“RRAGHH!” the zombie screamed, a disturbingly guttural and wet sound—emitted from its rotting throat. It leaned forward, pressing its body weight against Pell, while also tightening its grip on his clavicle. Its rotting mouth gaped wide, flesh melted at the sides of its jaw, and the horrors within its mouth revealing themselves to Pell—horrors enough to make anyone wet themselves.

However, Pell didn’t exactly have the organs to do that.

“Rah to you too, asshole!” he shouted back, his voice a raspy echo of the zombie’s own, tinged with dry, bone-on-bone friction. The pressure the zombie exerted was overwhelming, far beyond what Pell expected from a creature at this level. He could feel his bones straining under the force, stress fractures forming and rippling about his clavicle.

With another guttural roar, the zombie surged forward, its strength reaching a terrifying apex of power. Pell barely had time to register the impending doom before both of his clavicles snapped with a sickening crack. The zombie toppled forward, collapsing onto Pell’s upper chest.

“Sorry, ain’t interested in corpses!” Pell quipped, seizing the opportunity presented by the zombie’s unbalanced position.

With a swift, decisive movement, Pell released his grip on the zombie’s arms and quickly wrapped his own around its head. His right arm locked onto the top of the creature’s skull, while his left arm braced against the bottom. With his palms facing each other from opposite sides of the zombie’s head, Pell pulled back with all the strength his skeletal frame could muster.

The zombie growled in frustration, its legs stumbling from the fall, as Pell twisted his body and shoulders in a clockwise motion. The zombie’s head was trapped between Pell’s arms, its movements growing more erratic and desperate as it struggled to regain its footing.

Pell tried his best to snap the zombie’s neck, hopefully decapitating it in the process.

However, within a few seconds, Pell’s grip on the zombie’s skull loosened. Its strength was simply too strong—it was too abnormal. The zombie quickly regained its balance, and with a slight twist of its head, it easily reversed all of Pell’s efforts.

“What the hell are you!“ Pell growled.

A ghoulish growl came out of its throat as It reached down, grasping two of Pell’s ribs with an iron grip. With a brutal yank, the bones snapped off as if they were brittle twigs.

Pell was struggling—desperately trying to snap the zombie’s neck—but his skeletal frame wasn’t strong enough. He knew that skeletons like him were faster, but zombies were much stronger. In this close-quarters combat scenario, Pell was hopelessly outmatched by the zombie’s abnormal strength.

Thwack!

A sudden sound echoed through the room as something heavy hit the ground behind the zombie. Both Pell and the zombie’s grips loosened momentarily. Pell’s eye sockets widened as he spotted the source of the noise—a large book, open and sprawled on the ground beneath the zombie’s legs. It was a split-second distraction, but it was enough to break the monster's focus.

Pell’s gaze flicked to the side, catching sight of Enya standing on the opposite side of the study. Her eyes glowed with a vibrant yellow, her focus entirely on the scene unfolding before her.

“The hell?” Pell blurted aloud. He hadn’t seen Enya’s skill yet, so the sight of her glowing with yellow eyes alarmed him. But this didn’t alarm him nearly as much as what the zombie was about to do.

With a fervorous rage, the zombie lifted its head and glanced back towards Enya briefly, before turning back and facing Pell in the next instant. With a deep growl and ignition of blood-thirsty rage, the zombie exerted its monstrous strength upon Pell, snapping off one of his center ribs. But instead of discarding the bone, the zombie gripped it tightly, fashioning it into a makeshift dagger. In a swift motion, the creature released its hold on Pell and spun around.

It roared once more and leaned forward, make-shift bone dagger in hand—and ran toward Enya.

Pell, faltering in place from the sudden release of pressure, screamed, “BRAT!!”

The zombie barreled toward Enya, both arms outstretched, the bone dagger poised to strike. Enya’s eyes widened in shock as the creature’s focus shifted entirely to her. Panic surged through her, but the yellow glow in her eyes remained, allowing her to see the zombie’s sluggish, lumbering movements with crystal clear clarity.

The zombie lunged at her, its clawed hand aiming for a lethal strike towards her neck. But Enya’s senses, enhanced by her skill, allowed her to react just in time. With a near instant reaction, Enya threw herself to the side, landing and rolling along the ground to where the open bookshelf had been. The zombie’s swipe missed its mark, and it crashed into the wall with such force that it was briefly stunned.

With a low, guttural rumble, the zombie’s jaw unhinged wider, revealing more of the rotten, gaping maw within its body. It quickly regained its composure, its hunger for flesh driving it forward once more. The creature turned toward Enya, closing the distance with frightening speed, bone dagger raised high, ready to bring it down upon the little girl.

With another quick motion, Enya noticed the zombie’s intent and forced her body to roll once more, narrowly escaping the deadly stab. As she completed her second rotation across the floor, she saw Pell charging forward. He slammed into the zombie with all his might, tackling it backward just before the bone dagger could strike the spot where she had been lying.

Pell let out a trying grunt, as he slammed his body against the zombie’s shoulder. Pell felt like he had just slammed himself against an iron wall. However, the force at which a person threw themselves upon something was not to be taken lightly.

With a loud crash, he rebounded off the zombie’s shoulder and landed hard on the ground. The zombie, caught off guard by the sudden assault, staggered and lost its balance, tumbling backward toward the stairs. The room echoed with the heavy thuds of its legs slamming against the floor, momentum sending it rolling uncontrollably down the dark abyss.

“BRAT!” Pell shouted, his voice commanding and urgent.

“Y-Yes!” Enya stammered, snapping to attention.

“Do you know how to close that damn bookshelf? Cause if you do—fucking do it!” Pell ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

As Pell’s words echoed through the room, the sound of the zombie’s chaotic descent down the stairs abruptly stopped, followed by a single, loud thud. The zombie had hit the bottom, wherever that was, and the silence that followed was almost as terrifying as the noise had been.

Enya scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding.

“HURRY UP!” Pell’s voice rang out, filled with desperation. He knew that if she didn’t seal the passage in time, the zombie would come charging back up, more enraged than before. The fall down the stairs wouldn’t have killed it—Pell was certain of that. Even he would’ve survived a small tumble like that, considering the duration and intensity of the final crash he had just heard. But he was in no condition to fight anymore, not with half his ribcage gone.

Enya didn’t waste a second acknowledging Pell’s command. Her heightened senses slowed the world around her, sharpening her focus to a razor’s edge. She spotted the book she threw—the one that was originally on the bookshelf—scattered among the novels that Pell had dropped earlier. She sprinted towards the messy pile, grabbing the book without heistation. She rushed back to the open bookshelf, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

With a surge of mana, probably more than necessary, she encased her hand in a faint blue glow. Enya slammed the book back into its ominous spot on the shelf with a determined force.

The bookcase rumbled and began to move, sliding and creaking along the ground. But even as it shifted back into place, Enya’s ears picked up the sound of heavy slams coming up from the staircase. The zombie was on its way back up.

Panicking, Enya grabbed hold of the side of the bookshelf, desperately trying to force it to move faster. But the shelf resisted her efforts, moving at a steady, unyielding pace. She knew her attempts to hurry it were futile, but she couldn’t help herself.

Just as the slams on the stairs grew louder and closer with each passing moment, the bookcase finally slid back into its original position with a final creak. The stomps of the zombie instantly muting once the bookshelf snapped into place. The hidden passage was sealed. Enya stood there, panting and wide-eyed, her hands still gripping the edge of the bookshelf.

Pell stared at the closed bookshelf, his eye sockets narrowing as he waited to see if the barrier would hold against the boss-like zombie. The seconds ticked by, each one dragging longer than the last. After what felt like an eternity, Pell finally slumped back onto the ground, his body clattering on floor as he rested his skull against the hard stone.

“Hey, brat,” Pell said after a few minutes of long silence.

“Y-yeah?” Enya replied, voice shaky and weak.

“You’re banned from reading novels for the next two weeks,” Pell deadpanned.