Three elves walked. On the left was a brown-haired boy with grey eyes named Vaerion, while on the right was a black-haired elf with brown eyes named Vaenara. Between them was Alariel, a freckled redhead with striking green eyes. All three wore light silver armour, with Elvish script engraved on their shoulder plates, and all bore the pure and fair features of their kind. Just ahead of them walked a man clad in an ancient black robe, revealing a mask carved of white wood. The mask bore the likeness of a smile, with two hollow eyes staring outward.
"Can we really trust this man? His entire race is despised by the gods, is it not?" Vaerion whispered.
"No man would know Elvish," Vaenara whispered back.
"Are you a man?" Alariel asked curiously, drawing surprised and slightly annoyed stares from the other two elves.
"Yes, what of it?" the masked man replied.
"How do you know our language then?" Vaenara asked, her confusion evident.
Tobi considered this for a moment. "I don't recall. My memory is faint," he admitted honestly.
"You're lying," Vaerion said flatly.
"He's right. What aren't you telling us?" Vaenara pressed accusingly.
He turned his shoulder to face them, his expression hidden behind the mask. Not that it mattered. unsure of what to tell them, he simply tilted his head before facing forward again and continued walking. He walked ahead of them the entire time, never once seeming wary or tense with them behind him.
"Are you fearless or just a fool?" Vaerion challenged.
"A bit of both, perhaps," Tobi said simply.
"So what are you?" Alariel asked, her curiosity unshaken.
"I'm a hunter," he replied casually.
"What do you hunt?" Alariel repeated, confused.
"I don't know yet; I'm still trying to figure that out," he said honestly.
"Is he mad?" Vaenara muttered, genuinely uncertain.
"You're a hunter who doesn't know how to hunt," Valerian asked, looking at him annoyed.
"Yes?" Tobi responded bluntly. "My memory is not what it once was."
"Are you even sane, old man?" Vaerion asked, his irritation growing.
"Does it matter? My world is ending. There is no sane man," Tobi stated, his tone unreadable.
"We hadn't known the gods to hate men," Vaenara admitted.
"Do you know why they despise humanity?" Tobi asked, watching them closely.
"Because humanity claims to be gods themselves. It's absolute blasphemy," Vaerion said with certainty.
"That is one theory. Another is that humanity no longer worships them," Vaenara offered.
"And what do you think?" Alariel asked, still curious.
Tobi pondered for a moment before replying, "Perhaps the gods are scared of men."
"The gods are perfect. That's absurd," Vaenara said, frowning.
"Nothing is perfect, even those gods praised," he said surely.
They continued walking. Though the elves found his words lacking sense, he paid no mind. He had more pressing concerns: finding Amias.
"Well, since we've met, why are you here on Earth?" Tobi asked.
"We came for the dungeon. It was supposed to be a simple expedition, just a test for us students," Alariel explained. "And at first, it was. But then we encountered beasts beyond what we had imagined. Our master told us to run... and then the dungeon sprouted and transformed into this tree. We blacked out and lost our master, Valera. But we don't want to believe she actually died to an orc."
"Probably not. besides there are no orcs on earth. the whole tree is unpredictable," Tobi said honestly. Then, he stepped in something wet. He looked down and found himself standing in a puddle of blood and halted.
"Was it not just you who entered this dungeon?" he asked.
"It was our final test, so every student in our grade was sent in groups of three with a master. Maybe around a hundred people in total," Alariel explained. "But everything escalated quickly, so... yeah."
Tobi nodded, then looked at them. "Have you ever seen a corpse?"
The elves hesitated before nodding. Then, their gazes drifted down the hall. Just ahead of them, the path split into two directions.
"Good," Tobi said simply. He continued forward, and as they walked, the puddles of blood grew into rivers. The air thickened with the stench of death. Eventually, they reached the end of the hall in the porcelain maze, coming upon a fork.
They turned the corner and what they saw was far more gruesome than they had imagined. The once pristine, white maze was now drenched in crimson. People had been massacred brutally, their remains strewn about carelessly. Flesh, bones, and organs littered the floor a mess of mismatched body parts. Arms and legs, torsos and heads, all jumbled together as though discarded without thought.
Each elf reacted differently. Vaerion's expression twisted with a mix of anger and trepidation; Vaenara recoiled in disgust and fear, averting her gaze, and Alariel looked deeply disturbed. Instinctively, they huddled closer to one another for support. Meanwhile, the hunter ahead focused on the scene.
"It happened recently," Tobi noted.
"Shouldn't we turn back, then?" Vaenara asked, her voice uneasy.
"We should," Tobi agreed. But as he turned to retrace their steps, he stopped abruptly.
The path they had come from was gone, replaced by a smooth, porcelain wall. It simply led to a dead end, the turn no longer available.
He looked at it blankly but underneath his mask a dark chuckle escaped Tobi's lips. "It seems we have no choice now," he said simply, turning back toward the bloodied hall.
The elves tensed, preparing themselves for whatever lay ahead.
As they ventured further, a soft humming could be faintly heard and a woman's voice. It was a disturbing contrast to the usual silence, growing louder as they descended. Ahead, a silhouette of a woman knitting could be seen in the distance.
"Oh, visitors, is that so? Don't be shy; don't be shy. I was not the one to make such a horrid mess," she said as she hummed softly, her voice as sweet as silk.
The elves looked confused as the woman spoke in a language unfamiliar to them, yet Tobi understood it perfectly; it was English, after all. The woman laughed softly before speaking once more.
"I'm so very sorry; please, don't be shy. I was not the one who made this horrid mess," she repeated in the Elvish tongue.
"So who made the mess, then?" Vaerion asked angrily.
"Oh, young man, how rude. That is no way to speak to your elders," the woman chided.
"I apologize for the boy's harshness, but may I ask who you are?" Tobi inquired. The woman laughed with mirth.
"Oh, very well, very well. He is but a boy; he has plenty of time to learn manners. I shall say I am simply an old mother. Though, my colleague here seems to have enjoyed himself too much. I do hate people who kill so needlessly, especially children. I tell you, though, it gives me a reason to save their blessed hearts and heal their wounds," she laughed mirthfully.
"Children, you say?" the hunter asked curiously.
"Yes, dear. Do you see these poor souls who perished? God bless their hearts; to die so viciously and brutally by my cruel colleague... they didn't deserve such a fate," she said as she wove. "I have decided to take them and make them anew, recreate them oh so beautifully," she said, laughing happily.
She stopped laughing and stood. "But you, dear, seem to have killed my wonderful daughter..." Her once mirthful and calming demeanour dropped as her silhouette morphed; she was too skinny and had four arms, each holding a needle, as she chuckled darkly.
"My, my, it is fine. It is fine, though penance is in order. My son, please stand and avenge your sister," she commanded.
A man stood, his steps splashing in the bloody hall. He was tall and menacing, moving with inhuman speed, his two sharp canines glinting. In an instant, he was upon Alariel, his fangs aiming for her neck. His crimson eyes left a blur
But he stopped.
A sword had impaled his foot, halting his movement as it turned its head to the hand wielding it, then saw a smile. In that very moment, the hunter grabbed the Vaerian's sword and decapitated the vampire in one swift motion.
She's making them akin to their pre-dead selves.
"My, my, how unpleasant you are. Just a boy, no?" the woman asked.
"Not at the moment," he replied honestly, standing behind her. The headless corpse stood once more, but Tobi planted the sword, pinning it down as it struggled mindlessly.
"Do you not care for your children equally? This one seems mindless," he asked, curious, his voice cold as ever, provoking the woman. Then, ignoring the corpse, he turned to the elves.
"Do you have weapons?" Tobi asked.
"Y-Yes," Vaenara responded.
"Then use them. More are coming," he said simply.
Vampires, dwarves, and elves emerged. Vaerion, now weaponless, took a sword from one of the corpses. Vaenara wielded a short sword, while Alariel readied her bow. The attackers came in swarms, vicious and animalistic but mindless. The terrain worsened matters; the river of blood seeped up to their knees, slowing movement.
"T-These are our classmates," Alariel whispered as one fell before them, pale-faced.
Alariel was frozen in horror. A blade swung for her head; Vaerion blocked it just in time.
"Snap out of it! We don't have time to think!" Vaerion yelled. Alariel, shaken, nodded and pulled her bowstring once more.
"There are at least a dozen of them. How do we fight them all?" Vaenara asked as they were cornered against the wall. The odds seemed impossible.
"They're no better than undead. Treat them as such," Tobi replied simply, blocking strike after strike. These attacks were mindless, lacking strategy. They were husks of their former selves. Most fell easily, but a few instinctively blocked his attacks.
Vaerion gasped as a blade pierced his shoulder, leaving his arm useless. Vaenara turned to help him, exposing her back. An undead thrust its weapon at her. Luckily, her armour held, though it cracked from the impact, sending her stumbling into the blood. The undead raised its weapon to strike again, but an arrow from Alariel pinned its hand to the wall, giving Vaenara the chance to decapitate it. Vaerion, despite his wound, held off his attacker with one arm.
Meanwhile, Tobi was locked in battle with stronger opponents: a vampire, a dwarf, and an elf. An odd combination, though the worst part was that these seemed to be the veterans, as they worked in tandem with each other.
The vampire was swift with a sword, the dwarf slow but devastating with a sledgehammer, and the elf precise with its bow. Tobi was neither elf nor dwarf nor vampire, and only man struggled against their combined assault.
He blinded them with fire, but the elf remained unfazed too far, attacking from a distance. If he moved toward the elf, the vampire intercepted him. If he faced the vampire, the dwarf's shockwave attacks disrupted his balance on the slippery floor, though they also affected the vampire, giving Tobi brief openings to strike. Still, he was stuck in a cycle of dodging, deflecting, and balancing.
This isn't going anywhere, Tobi thought.
The dwarf swung. Tobi stumbled. The vampire lunged. Tobi stepped back. An arrow flew at his head. He barely dodged as the dwarf raised its hammer for a final blow.
Oh, that's not good, he thought, creating a flame to blind the dwarf and jumping out of the way.
I wonder how many times I'm going to have to repeat this, he mused, blocking another rapid strike from the vampire. As the vampire prepared another slash, an arrow struck its hand, making it drop its sword. Tobi seized the moment, catching the vampire's sword and cutting off its legs and arms in one fluid motion. He pinned its torso to the ground with his own sword and claimed the vampire's superior blade.
The dwarf came next, too slow. Tobi swiftly severed its limbs. Another arrow whizzed past him. He turned toward the undead elf, easily predicting its shots and blocking them before cutting it down.
If not for the river of blood, he would have burned the ones already down. Instead, he had to pin the lesser ones and incapacitate the stronger ones.
Tobi turned to the elves. They were still struggling, so he swiftly dispatched the remaining undead. He had had enough of this woman.
"Oh my, is the hunter riled up?" the woman laughed.
"In a way," he replied candidly.