The corpse lay crumpled several paces ahead in the center of the corridor, twisted into an unnatural position. Armor plates were barely visible beneath the thick mass of arrows and blades protruding from every angle of the body.
The arrows had pierced clean through.
Several spiral blades were embedded in the torso.
Others had punched straight into the stone floor beneath it.
It looked less like a fallen person and more like a grotesque display pinned to the ground.
Rolan's gaze lingered for just a moment too long.
The clothing.
The armor.
Even through the blood and damage he could still make out the cut of the gear.
His mind was still trying to process the sight when a spinning blade shrieked through the air toward the side of his neck.
CLANG!
A sword struck it away just inches from his face.
The blade shattered against the wall.
"Pull it together!"
Marek's voice cut through the chaos like a whip crack.
Rolan blinked.
Marek stood beside him, feet planted wide, sword raised as another spiral blade slammed against his guard. Sparks scattered through the corridor.
"Are you trying to die?" Marek snapped. "Focus!"
Rolan inhaled sharply.
"Right."
He forced his eyes away from the corpse and raised his sword again.
A spiral blade twisted toward them.
Both men moved at the same time.
Their blades flashed.
Two sharp metallic impacts rang through the corridor as they deflected the incoming attacks.
Rolan exhaled through clenched teeth.
Then he spoke.
"There's a corpse ahead."
Marek frowned but didn't stop moving.
"What?"
Rolan angled his body, striking another incoming blade away before nodding toward the shape on the ground.
"There."
Marek followed the direction of his gaze while deflecting another spinning blade with the flat of his sword.
His eyes narrowed.
For a moment he studied the body.
The armor was torn.
The face was unrecognizable beneath blood and damage. Too many arrows, too many blades, It had been shredded.
Marek clicked his tongue.
"Can you recognize who it is?"
Rolan shook his head immediately.
"No."
Another blade came screaming through the corridor.
CLANG.
The two men knocked it aside in near perfect synchronization.
Rolan spoke again while shifting his footing.
"But look at the gear."
Marek looked again.
Leather adventurer armor.
Reinforced boots, Equipment belt, A dagger sheath, A broken sword lying a few feet away.
His expression tightened.
"Are you saying it's an adventurer?"
Rolan said, "Looks like it."
Another blade spun toward them.
CLANG!
Marek deflected it with a short downward strike.
Rolan continued.
"It could be one of the groups that tried clearing this dungeon a few days ago."
Marek's jaw tightened.
"You mean the ones people were talking about before we came in?"
"Maybe." Rolan said in short.
Rolan struck aside another incoming blade.
The impact sent vibrations through his wrist.
"But who knows."
He glanced again at the corpse.
"Hard to tell when the body looks like that."
The face had been ruined, the armor barely intact. It was impossible to identify. Behind them,
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"
Tarin's voice echoed through the corridor.
Both men instinctively glanced back.
Tarin was several steps behind them, sword moving in tight defensive arcs as he deflected another incoming spiral blade.
His face was twisted in shock.
"What is it?" Marek shouted.
Tarin slashed another blade away and kicked something off the ground as he kept moving.
"there's a corpse over here!"
"Another what?" Rolan said.
"A corpse!" Marek word followed.
The word echoed through the corridor.
Tarin's voice rose.
"This is worse, more like brutality!"
He knocked aside another blade and half stumbled forward.
"Covered in blades and arrows!"
Rolan felt something cold settle in his stomach.
More than one.
Marek muttered under his breath.
"Shit."
Rolan glanced ahead again at the first corpse lying in the corridor.
Then back at Tarin.
Then at the corridor stretching forward into darkness.
"Oh shit," he breathed.
They were running through a graveyard.
Rolan raised his voice.
"We should get out of here!"
Marek opened his mouth to respond, Then the corridor suddenly went silent.
The spiral blades stopped, the air itself seemed to pause. For a single heartbeat the corridor held nothing but stillness, All three men froze instinctively. Then they heard it.
A distant sound, thin. Sharp.
Rolan's eyes widened, Whistles. Hundreds of them, From above, the direction of the corridor's exit behind them. Marek looked up, His expression went pale.
"Arrows."
The sound grew louder, A rising storm, Like a rain cloud forming above stone. Tarin turned his head.
"What!"
Then realization hit him.
"Oh hell."
Marek's mind raced. If they stopped to defend, If they tried to evade, With that many arrows?
They would be shredded.
He made the decision instantly.
"let's keep moving Forward!" Marek shouted.
Both men looked at him.
"We have to keep running head on!"
Rolan blinked.
"Running?!"
"If we stay here trying to block that many arrows."
The whistling grew louder.
The rain was about to fall.
"We die right here and join those corpses!" Marek said.
That argument was convincing enough.
But Rolan's mind caught another problem.
"How do we block them while running?!" he shouted.
He pointed behind them.
"There's over a hundred!"
Another spiral blade launched from the darkness ahead.
This one moved faster than the others.
Rolan reacted on instinct.
His sword rose.
The spinning blade slammed into it.
CLANG!
The impact exploded through his arms.
The force nearly ripped the sword from his grip.
Rolan staggered backward.
His boots scraped against the stone as he struggled to keep his balance.
The spiral blade crashed into the ground beside him, carving deep into the stone floor before shattering apart.
Rolan stared at it.
His arm throbbed.
"That's not good."
Marek glanced at him.
"What is it?"
Rolan lifted his sword again as another blade came flying.
He knocked it aside with visible effort.
"The blades!"
He grimaced.
"That one hit twice as hard as the previous ones!"
Marek cursed under his breath.
The dungeon was escalating.
Again.
"So what do we do now?" Marek snapped.
He slashed aside another incoming blade as he spoke.
"We're running from arrows behind us,"
CLANG!
"blocking these damn spinning blades, "
Another impact.
"and the attacks are getting stronger!"
Frustration bled into his voice.
"This is ridiculous!"
Behind them Tarin suddenly spoke.
"Hey."
The other two barely heard him.
"Hey!"
Marek shouted back.
"What?!"
Tarin glanced between the walls of the corridor.
Then at the ground.
Then back at them.
"How about wall skipping?"
Both men looked at him, Then looked at the corridor walls, Then back at Marek. Their eyes met, Understanding clicked instantly. It was reckless, but it could work.
Marek nodded once.
"Let's do it."
All three men moved at the same time.
Aura surged outward from their bodies.
Energy flared across their skin like a second layer of armor, wrapping tightly around muscles, armor plates, and weapons.
The glow intensified.
Their bodies grew lighter.
Stronger.
Faster.
Rolan pushed off the ground.
His boot struck the wall.
He ran three steps along the stone surface before launching himself toward the opposite wall.
Marek mirrored the movement from the other side.
Tarin followed half a second later.
The corridor exploded into motion again.
Three figures bouncing between ground and walls.
Running.
Jumping.
Switching angles with rapid bursts of aura-enhanced movement.
Spiral blades continued launching from the darkness ahead.
But now,
CLANG!
Rolan struck one aside mid-air as he pushed off the wall.
Marek deflected another while landing briefly on the ground before launching upward again.
Tarin twisted his body sideways, kicking off the wall and slicing a spinning blade in half during the leap.
They moved like ricocheting shadows.
Constantly shifting, Never staying still.
And then, the arrows came, the whistles reached their peak. The sound of a storm about to break, Then the rain of arrows poured.
Arrows screamed through the darkness ahead, their metal tips flashing only for a heartbeat before vanishing again into the shadows. The narrow passage amplified the sound sharp whistles tearing through the air, the constant clatter of impact against stone, the grinding scrape of blades drilling from hidden mechanisms inside the walls.
Rolan, Marek, and Tarin moved like hunted animals.
Their bodies were wrapped in aura, thin layers of glowing energy clinging tightly to armor, leather, and steel. The power shimmered faintly around them, spreading across their limbs and weapons like a second skin.
Rolan's sword flashed.
Clang!
An arrow shattered as his blade struck it mid-flight.
Another came immediately after.
His arm moved again fast, practiced, precise.
Clang!
Fragments of metal scattered across the floor.
But there were too many.
The corridor wasn't simply firing arrows. It was raining them.
"Keep moving!" Rolan barked.
Tarin leapt forward first.
His boots struck the stone wall and he kicked off it, running sideways for three strides before launching himself across the corridor. A spiral blade burst out from the wall behind him a moment later, spinning violently as it drilled through empty air.
Marek followed close behind.
He planted one foot against the wall and pushed upward, using the momentum to run two steps along the stone before twisting his body and landing back on the ground.
Arrows screamed past him.
One grazed his shoulder.
Another slammed into the wall inches from his face.
Rolan stayed slightly behind them, deflecting as many arrows as he could.
His blade became a blur.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Each strike sent vibrations through his arm.
Each impact drained more of his aura.
The thin energy coating their bodies flickered faintly with every arrow they failed to deflect.
Aura was protection but it wasn't infinite.
Every strike, Every impact, Every forced block.
It all consumed energy.
And the corridor showed no sign of stopping.
Another wave of blades burst from the stone.
The rotating weapons tore through the air with violent force, drilling outward like metal drills searching for flesh.
Rolan dropped low.
The blade roared over his head.
Tarin jumped.
Marek twisted his body sideways, barely slipping past one as it screamed inches from his ribs.
They kept running.
Ground, Walls.
The corridor forced them to move unpredictably jumping between surfaces, using every inch of space just to avoid the traps hidden within the stone.
Their swords kept moving.
Each strike sending sparks through the darkness.
But the pressure kept building.
Their aura was slowly thinning.
Not dangerously yet but enough for all three of them to notice.
"Damn it…" Marek muttered.
Another arrow slammed into his aura coating and deflected away but the glow around his body dimmed slightly.
Rolan saw it.
They were being worn down, not killed outright, Just slowly drained.
"Through the smoke!" Tarin shouted.
Ahead of them, the corridor twisted slightly.
A cloud of thick gray smoke hung across the passage, spilling out from cracks in the walls and ceiling.
It obscured everything beyond it.
Rolan's instincts screamed warning.
But there was no stopping.
"Go!" he shouted.
Tarin disappeared into the smoke first.
Marek followed immediately.
Rolan entered last.
The world turned gray.
The smoke burned slightly in his lungs.
Visibility dropped to almost nothing.
The sounds of arrows and spinning blades echoed strangely inside the cloud, making it impossible to tell exactly where the attacks were coming from.
Their movements slowed slightly, not by choice, Just instinct. They couldn't see the traps clearly.
Then
"—gh!"
Marek's voice burst from the smoke, a sharp cry of pain. Rolan's head snapped toward the sound.
Through the gray haze he saw Marek halfway up the wall.
The man had just jumped to continue running along the stone but something had gone wrong.
A blade had shot out from the wall.
It had pierced straight through the bottom of Marek's foot.
The metal blade punched through his boot from the stone.
"Damn it!"
Marek's body jerked violently as pain exploded through his leg.
He dropped on his foot, but the sudden motion ruined his balance.
He fell back to the ground hard.
"Ah—!"
He staggered, his injured foot hit the stone and nearly collapsed beneath him. The pain forced a groan from his throat, he grabbed his leg instinctively. Blood was already spreading through the torn boot.
Rolan stopped instantly.
Arrows were still firing around them but Marek had suddenly slowed to a crawl. Rolan turned and rushed toward him.
"Marek!"
Behind them, Tarin noticed the sudden change.
He slowed down too.
"What happened?!"
Marek crouched low, gripping his foot.
"my foot got hit by a blade from the wall…!"
His teeth clenched tightly as he reached down and grabbed the piece of metal still stuck through his boot.
Pain throbbed through his leg with every movement.
Rolan approaching him.
The arrows had temporarily slowed.
Not stopped, but slowed enough for the to evade.
"Marek, move!" Tarin said urgently.
But Marek couldn't immediately stand.
He tried to pull the blade free.
It didn't move.
"Damn it!"
He gripped it harder, Pain surged again. Above them, Small grains of dust began falling. At first it was subtle, just tiny specks drifting down from the dark ceiling. Rolan noticed it, his eyes flicked upward. The darkness above Marek shifted slightly, More dust fell. His instincts tightened instantly.
Something wasn't right, Very wrong.
"Marek…" Rolan said slowly.
But Marek didn't hear him.
His focus was entirely on the pain tearing through his foot, He twisted the blade again. Still stuck.
Rolan's instincts screamed danger, The ceiling.
Something was moving from above.
"Marek!" Rolan shouted suddenly.
But it was too late.
The stone above them cracked, A deep grinding sound echoed through the corridor.
Then the ceiling gave dropped, A massive slab of stone tore free.
Nine feet wide, It was thick and heavy. Falling with crushing force directly toward Marek.
For a fraction of a second, Rolan's mind froze.
There was no time. No time to lift him. No time to pull him.
If he tried, They would both be crushed. Rolan moved instantly, his leg drove forward. He kicked Marek with everything he had, the impact slammed into Marek's chest and sent him flying backward.
"What the?!"
Marek barely had time to register the movement, The stone slab crashed down.
BOOOOM!
The corridor exploded with sound.
The massive block slammed into the ground where Marek had been standing less than a second earlier, the impact shook the entire passage.
A violent shockwave blasted outward, Stone dust erupted everywhere. Rolan and Marek were thrown backward by the force, Their bodies hit the ground hard as the air filled with choking clouds of debris. The ground trembled beneath them.
Fragments of stone bounced across the corridor floor, then silence fell. For a moment neither of them moved.
Marek's heart pounded violently inside his chest, he stared at the stone slab in shock. If Rolan hadn't kicked him, his chest tightened. He would have been crushed flat, his heart skipped once.
Then the pain in his foot surged back violently.
"Ah—!"
He groaned and grabbed his leg again.
The blade was still embedded through the bottom of his foot.
"Damn it…"
He gripped it with both hands, this time he yanked hard. The metal finally slid free, blood followed immediately. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, but the blade was out. He tossed it aside and slowly pushed himself upright.
His injured foot trembled slightly when it touched the ground. Still usable but barely. He looked up, the corridor ahead was gone. The massive stone slab now blocked the entire passage.
The rock was enormous, nearly twelve feet long. Too large to move, too heavy to break.
It had fallen perfectly across the corridor. A complete barrier.
From the other side,
"Marek!"
Rolan's voice echoed through the dust.
"Marek! Are you okay?!"
Marek blinked.
"Yeah!" he shouted back.
"I'm fine!"
He looked behind him.
The arrow mechanisms had stopped firing for the moment.
Strangely quiet.
He turned back toward the slab.
"The path is blocked!" he called out.
"I can't go around it!"
A brief pause.
Then Rolan's voice came again.
"Just climb over it then!"
Marek blinked.
"Oh."
Right.
That worked too.
He walked toward the stone slab slowly, favoring his injured foot.
The rock surface was smooth, Almost unnaturally smooth, which made climbing difficult. Marek tested the stone with his hands, too slick.
"Damn…"
He reached into the pouch at his belt, a moment later he pulled out a small knife. He drove the blade into a thin crack along the slab and used it to support himself.
Carefully he began climbing. Each movement strained his injured foot.
But he kept going Up, It took nearly twenty seconds before he finally pulled himself onto the top of the slab. He stood there for a moment catching his breath.
Then he walked forward along the stone.
At the far side, Rolan and Tarin stood waiting.
Tarin crossed his arms the moment he saw him.
"You almost died, you idiot," Tarin snapped.
"If it wasn't for Rolan."
Marek raised a hand defensively as he began carefully stepping forward.
"My foot got injured by one of those blades in the wall thanks for caring."
Rolan looked up at him.
"Hurry up and get down here," he said.
"Let's take this moment to rest."
Tarin stared at him.
"Are you serious right now?"
Rolan shrugged slightly.
"The attacks stopped."
Tarin shook his head immediately.
"I'm not falling for that."
He pointed at Marek.
"Get down here."
"We don't have time to waste."
Rolan sighed quietly.
Marek continued walking slowly along the top of the slab.
"Easy there," he said.
"I don't want my injury getting worse."
Tarin opened his mouth again.
"Stop whining and..."
Suddenly, Several spiral blades burst from the darkness directly behind Marek.
The drills punched forward violently. One tore into his abdomen, another slammed into his left chest. A third pierced through his neck, two more drilled through his thighs.
The force lifted him off his feet.
His body jerked violently as blood sprayed across the stone, the spinning blades drove him forward, Marek's body fell. He dropped from the slab and crashed onto the ground near Rolan.
Rolan froze.
His mind went completely blank.
Words disappeared.
All he could do was stare.