"This goes deep underground," Anna said quietly, her voice echoing off the walls.
When they'd first stepped into the dungeon, the party had immediately encountered a steep staircase that descended far below the mountain's surface. From there, the true passageway had begun.
Thanks to Zhou Rui's Ice Blade, the entire floor had been frozen solid, so none of the deadly magma heat seeped through to burn their boots. Still, the air itself shimmered with a suffocating, volcanic warmth that clung to their skin.
Julius led the formation, his staff alight with a small, focused fire spell that transformed its tip into a glowing torch. The orange luminescence poured over the walls, revealing long gouges as though something massive had clawed its way through the stone corridors.
The passage was narrow, only wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Julius and Yu Zhen were in front, while Anna and Zhou Rui followed a few steps behind.
Yu Zhen's soft voice carried over his shoulder.
"When I was here before… there was no magma floor, and this place certainly wasn't buried in the basement level. The Magma Tyrant must have awakened and completely altered the structure."
Zhou Rui's eyes narrowed.
"So you have no idea where the real path is now, do you?"
Yu Zhen nodded slowly.
"Unfortunately… no."
They continued in tense silence, the rhythmic crunch of boots on cooled stone echoing off the walls. Ahead, the corridor abruptly split into two diverging tunnels—one veering left, the other to the right.
Yu Zhen stopped.
"We'll have to split up."
Julius exhaled, studying both paths.
"Let's divide into pairs. But we need to decide who goes with whom."
A heavy pause settled over them, the torchlight flickering as though hesitant to choose sides. Finally, Yu Zhen spoke.
"I think Ms. Anna and Mr. Zhou Rui should take the left passage, while Mr. Airu and I will proceed to the right."
Julius raised an eyebrow.
"And why is that?"
Yu Zhen glanced back at them calmly.
"Because pairing Ms. Anna and Mr. Zhou Rui gives us the best balance. Ms. Anna is a mage with healing magic. Mr. Zhou Rui relies on his swordsmanship. Together, they cover each other's weaknesses. But if Ms. Anna were with me, it would be pointless—I can't fight. And if she were with you, Mr. Airu, both of you being mages… you'd have limited protection in close combat."
Julius nodded.
"Fair enough. Then I'll light Ms. Anna's staff before we split."
"Yes, please," Anna said, offering him a shy smile as she extended her staff in both hands.
Julius handed his own staff to Yu Zhen to hold and lifted his right palm. He murmured a brief chant, and a golden glow spiraled from his palm into the crystal tip of Anna's staff, setting it alight with a soft radiance.
"Ms. Anna," Julius instructed, "if you ever need to extinguish the glow, just shake the staff back and forth a few times. It will go out automatically."
"Understood."
Zhou Rui shifted his sword on his back.
"Well then… we should get moving."
"Yes," Yu Zhen agreed, folding his hands back into his voluminous sleeves.
Anna and Zhou Rui turned to the left passage, their torch casting long shadows over the rough, magma-scarred walls. Julius and Yu Zhen disappeared down the right, their voices and footsteps quickly swallowed by the oppressive heat.
Anna and Zhou Rui walked side by side, their breathing slow in the stifling air. Neither of them spoke for a while. It felt wrong to disturb the silence of this place—like the dungeon itself was listening.
Eventually, Zhou Rui broke the tension.
"It's… hot in here. Must be from all the magma pillars buried in the walls."
Anna flinched slightly, startled by his voice. Her face turned pink in the glow of the staff. She stammered nervously:
"Y-yeah…"
Up ahead, the darkness gradually thinned. A faint glow seeped through the corridor, bright and alien.
"There's light up ahead," Anna whispered.
"Yeah," Zhou Rui said, tightening his grip on his scabbard.
Just then—
CLICK.
Zhou Rui's right foot pressed down on something—a pressure plate hidden in the stone floor, impossible to distinguish from the rest of the frozen magma.
"Huh?"
Zhou Rui looked down, confusion tightening across his face.
"A pressure plate?" Anna whispered, her voice trembling.
"But…how? I froze the entire ground—how did the pressure plate still work?"
Zhou Rui's mind raced, trying to understand. But then, without warning, the ice beneath his feet shattered with a brittle crack. The tile underneath tilted on some hidden axis—and in an instant, the darkness swallowed him.
"WHAT THE FU—"
He didn't even finish the curse. His voice was snatched away by the void. It was as if the darkness itself had devoured him, erasing every trace of his existence.
"MR. ZHOU RUI!"
Anna screamed, her voice breaking as terror gripped her throat. She stepped forward on instinct—but the floor reformed before her eyes, the ice sliding back over the trap as if nothing had ever happened.
It was like something—someone—was controlling it.
Anna's breathing turned ragged. Her hands clenched around her staff, knuckles white.
"What…what do I do now?" she whispered in a shaking voice.
She didn't know if Zhou Rui was even alive. She didn't know where he had gone.
Slowly, she turned around to look back down the corridor toward the pale glow that had been shining ahead. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
"I have no choice…I have to keep going."
Her feet felt like lead, but she forced herself to walk. Step by step, she moved toward that beckoning light.
Meanwhile,
In the very center stood a throne—an immense, jagged seat carved of magma rock, its surface streaked in molten orange-red veins that pulsed with heat. Seated upon it was something that almost looked human.
Its right fist rested against its cheek, the elbow propped lazily on the throne's arm as if it had been waiting an eternity. Its body leaned slightly to the right, one leg draped casually over the other.
At first glance, the figure seemed relaxed, almost bored—but every line of its molten body radiated silent menace.
It wore a dark brown headband set with two curved horns, though Anna realized with a chill that the horns weren't real. They were just decoration. A symbol. A mockery.
The creature's flesh was lava itself, skinless and alive, flowing in slow currents over muscle and bone of gleaming stone. It was roughly the size of Julius—a humanoid silhouette composed of the earth's own fury.
On the floor beside its left hand rested an enormous sword—its handle carved of blackened volcanic rock, the blade itself a slab of cooling magma as tall as the creature while seated. Runnels of liquid heat dripped languidly from its edge, sizzling wherever they struck the floor.