The office was silent.
As always.
Marcellus sat behind his desk, fingers tapping lightly on the polished wood, though his eyes weren't really on the document before him. Across from him, Lucien and Selara stood tall, their imposing presences filling the room.
A silence hung in the air, heavy and tangible.
Then, calmly, Marcellus broke the stillness.
— "Do you think… he's still alive?"
The question cut through the air like a cold blade.
Lucien didn't even pause to think.
— "No."
His answer was blunt. Sharp. Final.
— "No one survives three days in that dungeon. Even trained fighters don't last."
Selara nodded slightly, her expression grave.
— "Especially in his condition. Wounded, exhausted… and alone."
Silence fell again. Heavier this time, pressing, inevitable. Logical.
Marcellus didn't respond immediately. His fingers continued their rhythmic tapping on the desk. But his gaze had drifted elsewhere.
An image.
A memory.
Ryuji's eyes. No fear. No pleading. Just… something unsettling. An icy intensity that felt almost unnatural.
— "…I don't think he's dead."
Lucien's brow furrowed slightly, as if the very idea were absurd. Selara turned her head toward Marcellus.
— "Master?"
Marcellus slowly lifted his eyes. His face remained calm, but a faint smile tugged at his lips.
— "There was something… strange about him."
A silence. Then, a thought spoken aloud, almost to himself:
— "And if he was lucky enough to survive the Basilisk…"
His fingers stilled. He fixed Lucien and Selara with a subtle, knowing smile.
— "…then for the dungeon…"
A pause.
— "Who knows."
The silence that followed was strange. Neither agreement nor disagreement, just the weight of anticipation, like something was approaching from afar.
— "Keep watch," Marcellus finally said, his voice calm. "And prepare yourselves."
Lucien inclined his head.
— "For what, master?"
Marcellus gently closed the document in front of him, as if to mark the end of the conversation.
— "…for a surprise."
---
Three days. Three long days Ryuji had survived in this hellish dungeon. Three days of pain, struggle, and despair. Three days where every step had been a battle.
And now, he moved. Slowly. Heavily. Every motion calculated, measured, as if his body and mind had adapted to this nightmare. His wounds—some hastily closed, others still raw—throbbed painfully, yet he had learned to ignore them. His breathing, low and controlled, betrayed an extreme focus.
He no longer ran. He no longer hesitated. He moved forward.
His eyes scanned the walls, the floor, the shadows. Every movement, every creak of stone, every whisper of wind sounded like a warning in his ears. The monsters he encountered no longer acted like before. They didn't roam. They didn't hunt. They converged. All in the same direction.
Ryuji stopped, narrowing his eyes. A premonition ran down his spine.
— "…interesting."
His voice was low, almost a whisper, but carried a cold curiosity. He observed a group of creatures pass nearby. Not a single glance at him. Not a single attack. Just purposeful, methodical movement toward a destination he could not yet see.
— "So… there's something."
Without another word, he moved in the same direction. His steps were silent, precise, deliberate. The deeper he went, the heavier the silence became, almost suffocating. Fewer traces of battle. Fewer corpses. But more presence. Invisible. Overpowering. A force that seemed to absorb the light around it.
Then he stopped. In front of him, a massive door. Ancient. Carved into stone. No magical symbols, no runes. Yet… he felt it. Instinctively. Something hid behind it. Something dangerous.
His hand rested on the cold surface, sending a shiver down his spine. He inhaled slowly. Then—he pushed.
A deep rumble echoed through the dungeon. The stone moved slowly, as if the world itself were holding its breath. The door opened, revealing a vast, silent chamber.
At its center stood a massive figure: a golem. Its body, carved from raw, cracked stone, seemed shaped by time itself. Every fissure told a story of force and destruction. And at the center of its chest glowed a sphere of blue. Brilliant. Alive. Unreal.
Ryuji felt his breath catch. Not because of the creature's size. Not because of its stone armor. But because of the energy it radiated. Dense. Crushing. Tangible. His fingers tightened on the hilt of his weapon, muscles taut, every fiber of his body on high alert.
— "…what the hell is this…" he muttered.
The golem didn't move. Not yet. But Ryuji knew. This wasn't a simple monster. Not a beast. It was… something else. Something aware, or at least wielding a power beyond mere animal instinct. A shiver ran down his spine. The coming fight would be unlike anything he had faced.
Every step, every motion, every decision would be crucial. One mistake and he might never leave. But deep inside, a spark stirred. Excitement. Curiosity. The thrill of challenge.
Ryuji breathed deeply, his eyes fixed on the golem. His body was ready, but his mind knew brute force alone wouldn't win this fight. He would have to think, observe, dodge… survive.
And somewhere deep down, a certainty: he was about to enter a battle that would change everything. Not just his own survival. Perhaps the balance of the entire dungeon.
The golem remained still, silent, yet the air around it seemed to vibrate. Every breath Ryuji took, every heartbeat, resonated through the massive stone chamber. The fight had not yet begun, yet it was already overwhelming.
One thing was certain: this battle… would be different.
And Ryuji, despite the pain, exhaustion, and the fear he refused to acknowledge, was ready.