QUICK RECAP -
The Duke's verdict fell like an axe: "Eternal Slumber" for James.
As the execution began, royal envoy Sir Ronald Klaus arrived with a game-changing decree—James would face the King's judgment instead.
Meanwhile, Arthur and Adam raced toward the deadly Blood Cave, the only path to reach the capital in time.
But the cave's miasma devoured their Ether, leaving them helpless... until a voice cut through the darkness:
-RECAP ENDS
"Need a hand?"
The voice cut through the miasma like polished steel slashing through fog—clean, sharp, mercilessly casual.
Arthur froze mid-shout, knuckles cracked and shoulders tense. Adam stopped kneeling, his Ether core still recoiling from the failed pulse. The fog slithered across their boots in retreat, as if silenced by that single phrase.
A chill ran down both their spines.
Not from the miasma.
But from the implication.
They'd been found.
Arthur locked eyes with Adam in that split-second of shared survival instinct. No words exchanged—just readiness, hardwired into muscle memory.
Arthur reached for his blade. Adam's mist saber crackled in his grip. Their boots pressed against the gravel. Their pulses synced.
No escape.
No silence.
Attack now.
They whirled in tandem, weapons drawn—
And stopped.
Ruby Goldsen stood before them.
Her Ether flared calmly, shield radiating soft golden arcs from her fingertips. The light pushed back the miasma in subtle ripples that made the fog twitch and withdraw, like fear personified.
Arthur's blade hadn't fully left its scabbard. But his grip tightened.
Adam, half crouched, flared his saber—
Then blinked.
"…Wait. You?"
Ruby tilted her head, expression unreadable. "Me."
Adam swore. "Damn it, Ruby, you scared us half to death!"
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You know her?"
"She's my class CR," Adam said quickly, lowering his saber just enough to make a point—but not enough to be friendly. "And Goldsen's daughter."
Arthur didn't sheath his blade.
Ruby noticed.
She lowered her hand, dimming the shield slightly—not dismissing it, just making her Ether pulse less aggressive. She stepped forward one pace.
"I didn't mean to frighten you. But you two aren't exactly subtle in a fog-wrapped cave mouth shouting about the end of the world."
Adam frowned, squinting. "So what—this is some noble field trip?"
Ruby raised a brow. "I could ask the same. Or better yet—what kind of genius decides to fight sentient miasma with Hydro-Volt at Stage Two?"
Adam scoffed. "Says the one whose entrance line was 'Need a hand?' What were you trying to do, make my heart short-circuit?!"
"Sorry," Ruby said dryly. "Would 'Hello, I'm not here to kill you' have worked better?"
Arthur stepped between them.
"Enough."
His voice was steady—less anger, more exhaustion. His blade lowered, but his eyes didn't lose their sharpness.
He looked at Ruby. "So. Duke's daughter. Standing at a cursed cave. Shield raised. Offering help. What do you want?"
Ruby didn't flinch.
"I want to help you get to the royal capital," she said plainly.
Arthur paused.
Adam didn't.
"You hate James," he said, tone cutting. "Everyone knows it. You treat him like a walking plague. What do you gain by helping us?"
Ruby didn't respond right away.
Her jaw tensed slightly. Her stance didn't shift.
"I have my reasons," she said.
Adam stepped forward. "So Goldsen sent you? Is that it? You're supposed to tail us, track the cave entrance, and report back?"
Ruby's expression didn't crack.
"He didn't send me."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Then why?"
"I saw Adam break into the Dukedom's west corridor two nights ago."
Adam stiffened.
"I followed," she continued. "And watched you prep gear, study maps, talk in whispers. This cave? It's been whispered in my house's legacy since before I was born. When I saw you near the eastern ridge, I put it together."
Arthur glanced at Adam.
Adam was silent.
Then Arthur turned back. "You followed us."
"Correct."
"Form the time we left from the duke's place"
"Yes."
"And you didn't report anything?"
Ruby's response was quiet.
"I have my own mind. I don't serve my father's legacy."
Arthur weighed her words carefully. Not trust. Not forgiveness. Just calibration.
"But do you intend to help?"
Ruby nodded once.
Adam folded his arms. "Even if you want to, how could you possibly help?"
Ruby stepped closer—still inside the shield's protective radius.
"I have an Aura Light Ether Engine," she said. "My core operates at 91% potency. Apprentice Gear—Stage Three."
Arthur blinked.
That number hit like impact force.
"You're Stage Three?"
Ruby didn't smile.
"I had my breakthrough last fall," she said. "My Light-based pulse can disrupt miasma pressure for up to 40 seconds per burst. If timed properly with atmospheric pathing, I can push open a tunnel long enough for us to breach the cave's resistance."
Arthur stepped back slightly, almost laughing—but not mockingly. Just in disbelief.
"Two kids," he muttered. "One with Hydro-Volt, another with Aura Light. One a 2nd Stage Apprentice Gear and another a 3rd, Damn!"
He looked at Adam, eyes softening.
"You're freaks."
Adam didn't respond.
Ruby waited.
Arthur turned to her again.
"So you think you can get us in."
"Yes."
"And get us through?"
"If the path holds. If the fog doesn't evolve."
Arthur clenched his jaw.
"I'll take it."
Adam spun toward him. "You'll risk James's life on her word?"
Arthur didn't back down.
"I'll risk mine," he said. "And yours, if you follow me. Because no backup is coming. No miracle is forming. And no other route gets us to the capital before the King's window closes."
Ruby looked at Adam.
Adam didn't return the gaze.
His shoulders tightened, fists flexing unconsciously at his sides.
"She's Goldsen's blood," he whispered.
Ruby heard him.
And said nothing.
Arthur placed a hand on Adam's shoulder.
"I won't ask you to trust her."
"I don't."
"But I'll ask you to trust me."
Adam met Arthur's eyes. Then looked at Ruby again.
"Fine. You're on watch. You pulse wrong. You stall once. I walk over your Light Engine to get James back."
Ruby nodded.
"Fair terms."
The fog pulsed once—like an inhale.
Ruby turned back to the cave.
"I'll take the first step."
Arthur whispered, "Let's walk through hell."
Ruby stepped forward, casting her Light Ether.
No flash. No flare.
Just a clean ripple—woven like silk laced with steel. The miasma curled away from her pulse, not like it was banished... but like it knew better.
Arthur's eyes tracked the fog's reaction. "Like a scalpel through flesh," he murmured.
Ruby kept walking.
Adam hesitated behind them, mist saber active but held low.
The fog behind them closed like a curtain cinching at the base. No breeze. No echo. Just a pressure, soft and cruel.
They were inside the Blood Cave now.
And the cave had noticed.
The descent began almost immediately. The floor sloped downward, angled just enough to force their footing into caution. Water pooled around their boots—shallow at first, then climbing steadily as the path dipped into the swamp's gut.
The ground felt unnatural.
Not earth. Not stone.
Each step landed with a muffled squelch on something layered—flesh-colored moss clinging like rotted memory. Small bubbles rose and popped from below, releasing a faint copper stink that coated the air.
Adam gagged once. "It smells like blood... and something worse."
Arthur pressed a cloth mask tighter over his mouth. "Decay," he said. "Old battlefields smelled like this. But there's something else…"
Ruby finished for him.
"Wrongness."
Webs clung to the upper walls—slick, sinewy strands that pulsed faintly, as if alive. Unlike typical cobwebs, these glistened with translucent fluid. Some throbbed like veins. Others twitched when brushed by their passing light.
"Ether strands," Ruby muttered. "Residual growth."
Adam ducked beneath one. "Yeah, well… growth is overrated. Especially when it drips."
Arthur glanced upward and spotted a cocooned shape wedged high in the shadows, vaguely humanoid in size.
He didn't mention it.
Something darted past their feet.
Fast. Needle-thin. Red.
Blood Worm.
It left a searing trail in the water that hissed softly, eating through mud and leather alike.
Adam jumped. "Hell! That thing melted my boot edge!"
Arthur dropped to one knee, inspecting the slime. "Acidic. Reflex-based trail. We step wrong and lose soles."
Ruby intensified her Light Ether slightly—enough to part the fog ahead and force the smaller worms into cracks. But her pulse faltered briefly.
Adam watched. "You okay?"
She didn't answer right away.
"Potency is dipping. The fog's learning."
Arthur tensed. "Reacting to Ether signatures?"
Ruby nodded. "It adapts faster than I thought."
The next chamber narrowed and turned sharply. The walls changed texture—slate gave way to scales.
Thin overlapping patterns covered both sides, matte and dry. Arthur reached out, then pulled back as the surface twitched beneath his fingers.
Then they unfurled.
Dozens of long, black snakes emerged from the grooves, peeling out like shadows that forgot they were shadows.
They didn't strike.
They watched.
Tongues flicked in perfect rhythm, tasting Ether trails in the air.
Ruby's Light pulse held them back—but not far. They remained at the edges, like sentinels with all the time in the world.
Arthur whispered, "Why aren't they attacking?"
Adam muttered, "Because they're not hungry yet."
Ruby said nothing.
The water deepened.
Up to their knees now.
It clung—not liquid, not quite mud. The temperature dropped, but not evenly. Cold pulses radiated beneath the surface, rising in waves from cracks they couldn't see.
The walls throbbed faintly.
Not from motion.
From memory.
Arthur reached out instinctively as Ruby stumbled over a submerged root.
She caught herself. "I'm fine."
He didn't let go immediately.
Adam scanned the walls, trying to ignore the shifting webs above them. "This place is layered. Like a nervous system built from rot."
Ruby flicked her gaze toward a dark corridor to the left. "It's more than layered. It's mirrored."
Arthur turned. "Mirrored?"
She pointed at the wall. Etched faintly into the stone was a set of glyphs—lightly scorched and nearly eroded by time.
"That's a map signature," she said. "From the War of Chains."
Arthur blinked. "This cave remembers every trespass."
Adam frowned. "Great. Now it's a historian."
Another pulse.
The miasma surged forward, thicker than before.
Ruby gasped, stumbling once. Arthur and Adam immediately stepped toward her.
Her shield flickered—only for a moment—but enough to let one blood worm breach the perimeter.
Arthur slashed quickly. Acid sprayed across his leg armour. He winced.
Adam flared his saber, sending a hydro-blast wide—but the fog swallowed it mid-cast and spit the residue back across the floor.
Ruby steadied herself. "It's corrupting feedback loops."
Arthur gritted his teeth. "This fog doesn't just eat Ether—it learns its rhythm."
Adam glanced toward a wall—his light beam catching another cocooned figure in the distance. Smaller. Twisted. Child-size.
He didn't speak.
They kept moving.
No choice now.
The corridor narrowed again, the air compressing like a vacuum slowly learning to whisper.
They passed a corner where the walls bled.
Thin black ooze dripped downward into the swamp water, forming tiny whirlpools of smoke beneath the surface.
The webs above stretched tighter now.
Some twitched.
Others seemed to breathe.
A cluster near the ceiling burst softly, releasing spores that drifted down in faint spirals.
Ruby pulsed her shield outward again to repel them.
"Potency's down to 58%," she said flatly. "I won't hold this for much longer."
Arthur glanced at Adam. "We move faster. No stops."
Adam didn't answer. He stared into the distance where the fog was beginning to shimmer—not from Ruby's light, but from something beneath it.
It rippled like heat. But colder.
Ruby whispered, "There's something ahead."
Arthur nodded. "Something watching."
Adam didn't blink. "Something preparing."
They pushed through the last bend of the corridor.
Here the water thinned slightly, but the walls grew taller.
The architecture shifted from crude stone to what looked like etched bone, lined with spiral glyphs that spun faintly under Ruby's light. Not inscriptions. Not warnings.
Just attention.
Arthur slowed. "This chamber's not natural."
Adam whispered, "Neither is anything in here."
Ruby pulsed her Light Ether once more—heavier this time. A full dome.
It lit the space beyond like dawn breaking over rot.
Their eyes landed on the far wall.
It pulsed.
One steady breath.
Not stone.
Not moss.
Just... flesh.
And something behind it.
Watching.
Waiting.
Somewhere deeper.
Beyond boots slicing through swamp water. Beyond Ruby's flickering shield. Beyond the fog that had tasted Ether and memorized it—
The cave began to pulse.
Not randomly.
Rhythmically.
Stone groaned. Water rippled in reverse. Miasma drew tighter against the walls, as if bracing for a breath.
The deeper walls shifted—not crumbling. Contracting.
And with each throb, something within grew more... aware.
The silence of this buried chamber wasn't silence at all.
It was listening.
And then—
It opened its eyes.
Two slits. Long. Vertical. Glowing red like embers deep in a forgotten furnace.
They didn't blink. They didn't adjust to light. They were built to see through shadow.
And what they saw?
Everything.
Ether strands.
Footsteps.
Cracks in confidence.
Arthur's urgency. Adam's suspicion. Ruby's shield.
It saw the cave's miasma reshaping itself. It saw the way Ruby's pulses curved against the walls—not as threat, but as invitation.
The eyes narrowed slightly—focus sharpening. The cave wasn't just guiding them now.
It was delivering them.
Behind those eyes lay something far older than flesh. Something wrong.
Too big.
Too silent.
Too certain.
Not teeth.
Not claws.
Not breathing.
Just waiting.
The chamber's ceiling crackled faintly as long roots lifted themselves from the damp stone, bending toward unseen joints—toward limbs that didn't match any anatomy known to man.
Nothing moved—but everything watched.
And in that stillness, the voice came.
It didn't echo.
It bled.
A sound jagged with moisture.
Unfiltered. Unhurried. Rot-filled.
"I…"
The blood worms paused mid-skitter.
Snakes curled inward, hiding behind webbed cracks.
The water flattened unnaturally—its current canceled.
"…Am…"
Fog drew tighter against the walls, as if waiting for impact.
Pulses in the stone stopped syncing with Ruby's light.
"…HuuNggrrYYY."
Drawn out. Warped.
The syllables curled.
Like they wanted to sink into skin.
Like they didn't need to be understood—just felt.
The eyes flared once. Then dimmed again.
Not weakened.
Satisfied.
**"When the Mire Breathes,
Memory Isn't Enough"**
END OF CHAPTER 6
- To Be Continued -