Pell subconsciously growled, a low, primal sound escaping his bony throat. Enya, on the other hand, was breathing heavily, her heart thundering about her body. She pressed her right hand over her chest, clutching at it as if trying to force her heart back into place, to stop it from pounding in her ears. Pell cast a quick glance down at her. Despite the terror they had just endured, her face was surprisingly dry—no tears streaked her cheeks. She had screamed several times as the waves of pressure assaulted them, and Pell had expected her to be a complete wreck. Yet, while she was clearly shaken, she was handling it better than he had expected.

Pell, on the other hand, was far worse for wear. He had lost a pinky, a middle finger, a few foot bones, and several ribs. Part of his skull had cracked, leaving a zigzagging pattern that stopped halfway down the side of his head. Fortunately, none of the critical bones—his femur, upper spine, or any key joints—had been damaged. But the overall toll that he took throughout his body was still significant.

Another minute passed by in silence, as Pell and Enya looked around them, waiting to see if another wave was coming.

Finally, Enya broke the silence. "Is... it over?" she asked weakly, her voice trembling. Her breaths, though still heavy, had become more controlled, more stable than they had been just moments ago. The roaring sound of blood rushing through her veins had subsided, leaving her feeling slightly better. She still trembled, but she didn't feel like she could die at any moment anymore.

"Yeah..." Pell replied grimly, tone low and heavy.

Enya gulped, "What...just happened?"

Pell took a moment to respond, as he looked over his body to make sure there wasn't anything else wrong with him. "That was a dungeon...quake? Well, let's just call it that. I'm not sure if what just happened has an actual name or not."

Examining for any hidden damage, Pell checked behind his arms and twisted his body to look around himself. He moved forward a step but tapped the ground in front of him first, testing its stability. He repeated this for the rest of the immediate area around them. They were still solid—for now.

"Dungeon... quakes, are a sign of a dungeon about to collapse," Pell said.

"Col...lapse?" Enya echoed, looking up at him. She slowly got to her feet, her legs still trembling. She placed her hands on her thighs, pushing herself upright while trying to keep her legs from buckling. Dust and small pebbled debris fell to the ground as she patted down her dress.

Pell looked down the hall. Everything was a mess. "Dungeon collapse happens when a dungeon core either becomes unstable or is left unclaimed for far too long. It can either be damaged or something involving the owner of a dungeon not giving it mana periodically," Pell explained. "I don't think the dungeon core is damaged, so it's most likely the dungeon is running out of mana from its owner."

"Who is the owner?" Enya asked. She blinked several times, as she began feeling the dust around them settle in.

Pell shrugged, then winced as he heard a small crack come from his left shoulder joint. "Who knows? I have an idea, but it's more of an educated guess. Probably a necromancer," Pell replied, feeling up his shoulder.

"What happens when a dungeon collapses?" she asked. If everything just now was a sign of a dungeon collapse about to happen, then what would happen when it did collapse?

Pell took a moment to gather his thoughts. She couldn't see his face right now, but Pell wore a scowl as he looked ahead. His mind flooded with different thoughts, before turning around toward her, but also avoiding her gaze. "A dungeon collapse just means a lot of the dungeon will be destroyed, so the walls and ceiling will fall down. The only dangerous part is being aware of your surroundings, so you aren't crushed by falling debris. Otherwise, it's relatively harmless," he explained. "This place will become... less like a maze or labyrinth, and more like one big open square space."

Pell had told a lie. Dungeon collapse didn't just mean walls and other structures part of the dungeon would just shatter. It did do that, but that wasn't the primary concern. Dungeon collapses, meant the destruction of any and all things inside of the dungeon. This included his and her life. But he couldn't tell her this. If he told her how dangerous it was, then maybe she’d be discouraged to continue. Why strike fear when it was unnecessary?

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He was fooling himself. Striking fear? What a load of bullshit. He knew why he lied. He knew she could leave the dungeon of her own accord. She wasn’t bound to the dungeon like he was. If she was careful, she could probably run up the stairs and sneak past the upper floors back to the entrance. It would be unlikely that she’d survive long enough to make it out, considering there were still monsters on the other floors—but that didn’t matter. She could always leave and abandon him. He wasn’t going to take that chance.

Perhaps telling her the truth of their impending demise may actually motivate her for his idea. After all, he was pretty sure she didn't want to die. But there was always a risk. Why leave something up to chance when you can control the variable?

He’d also thought about having her leave and trying to call for rescue. However, the chances that her family of nobles—who were most likely searching for her—would heed her wish to save some random damn skeleton inside a dungeon that was about to collapse? Laughably impossible. But more than that—she had no way to fight off the monsters on the upper floors, even if they were weak. If he sent her off and she happened to die? Well, there goes his golden ticket of escape. To leave, Pell needed the dungeon core claimed. That was the only method he could rely on and work towards without leaving things up to chance. Control your aces. Pell thought.

Regardless, there wasn't any reason to tell her. If the dungeon collapsed, then they would all be dead anyway. Why risk telling her and demotivating her, or even scaring her? She wouldn't be stressed if he acted like it wasn't a big deal. After all, as far as he knew, magic required a calm mind. Chaotic thoughts and stress signaled bad mana... flow or something. Pell shook his head. He needed her to get as strong as possible, otherwise, he might just die from the dungeon collapse without fulfilling his promise.

Pell knew how nobles acted. They always put themselves first. They valued their lives far more than those without power or prestige. Enya might not realize this now, given her amnesia, but once her memories returned, Pell would just be an obstacle in her path. She’d cut him down without a second thought, especially if her noble guards or family were involved.

“Then, are we safe-” Enya asked with a cough. She covered her mouth and began swatting away the dust that surrounded them. The minuscule stone particles permeated from every single wall around them, leaving a murky cloud of gray fog.

Pell turned and looked ahead, down at the path they were taking. It had become much harder to see—the gray dust forming an impenetrable fortress. The old torches along the walls still burned, but only a small tinge of light could be seen through the clouds of smoke.

“For now, yeah. Another one won’t happen for quite some time, so we are good. Can you keep going?” Pell asked, sneaking a peek at the coughing girl.

“Ye-yeah-” she replied, being cut off with another cough. “I-I’m good… but… what happened to your body?” Enya questioned. Pell was covered in white calcified dust. He was mainly intact, but there were very significant changes. He was missing quite a few bones all around his body. A giant crack zigzagged down the side of his skull that seemed to get larger. He didn’t look symmetrical anymore, but more like a conglomeration of bones from various other skeletons that were magically stitched together.

Pell moved his arms up in front of him and took a brief glance down towards his ribcage and legs. He sighed. “Since I am bound to the dungeon as a dungeon monster, the dungeon quake affects me, too. Anything that happens to the dungeon reflects over to me. As the dungeon shatters, I’ll also shatter.”

Enya held a worried expression upon hearing his words. “Will…you be okay? Are you going to…” her eyes thinned as her words trailed off.

“I’ll be fine,” Pell said nonchalantly. Pell tilted his head and cracked his neck. A small burst of smoke came from below his head. “I can’t feel pain or anything like that anymore. I can also just replace my body parts with other skeleton parts lying around,” he said.

Enya’s face brightened upon hearing this, but she still held some slight worry.

“Come on. Let’s keep going,” Pell continued, “the dungeon will repair itself over time.” Pell started walking forward again, with his left hand dragging along the rough and uneven wall.

Enya’s body tensed once again as she started after Pell. She mimicked him, placing her hand along the close wall as she walked forward, avoiding the jagged and sharp terrain that protruded upward along their path.

The air had become heavy. Dust from the debris that littered the walls and ground floated all around in the air. It became hard to breathe. Enya held her breath several times for a dozen or so seconds as she moved. Meanwhile, Pell trudged along without an issue, aside from avoiding slightly larger holes in the ground.

Pell noticed the little girl struggling to keep up. She was moving too slowly, but it's not like he could blame her. He didn’t have lungs or a respiratory system, so something like walking in a dust storm didn’t affect him. The dirty air could also potentially have a negative effect on the girl’s lungs, considering that she was a human. But regardless, he couldn’t do anything. It’s not like he had a potion or magical artifact to dispel and whisk away all the filth that floated around them.

The entire dungeon had become an utterly chaotic mess. Usually, dungeons were death traps, ones filled with danger in every corner. Right now though, every single corner was danger. The structure of the walls and ceiling were unstable, and a sudden unplanned movement could cause a massive collapse of rubble that would bury them alive. In his case—bury him dead.