In front of them stood a gigantic arctic blue door that towered over them, an ancient double gate carved from dark stone or blackened metal, so tall it made the walls around it feel like an afterthought.
Twisted figures were etched into its surface, bodies elongated and contorted as if they had been pressed into the door while still alive.
Their forms seemed to writhe in the dim light, fingers clawing upward, faces frozen in silent agony.
Pale blue veins of frost clung to the ground, creeping in thin rivulets through the snow.
A low mist rolled endlessly at their feet, as though the floor itself was breathing.
But even though the door easily dwarfed both of them, just as they laid their hands onto the deep arctic blue material, it was pushed open.
It gave no resistance whatsoever when being pushed by the duo, as if its gigantic size was only there for show.
As the doors swung inward, a thick cloud of cold white mist was released from behind them.
Everything the mist touched was assaulted with a deep, bone-chilling cold.
So much so that as it swept past the two of them and glided onto the snowy ground, it quickly started to crystallize, forming tiny pieces of ice within and on top of the snow.
This was a cold they hadn't yet experienced on any of the previous floors, and even this was just the beginning; they could feel it. That mist was only a fraction of the cold they would feel past this door.
But even so, they couldn't turn back now. No, they refused to turn back. They would rather die in this dungeon than go back out there only to be branded and have their freedom taken away from them again.
And so, with these thoughts rolling through their heads, they pressed forward regardless of what their bodies were telling them, what they were screaming at them.
Their first steps past the doors were like crossing the threshold to another world altogether.
The same mist that blew past them a few minutes ago now floated just above the snow, obscuring their view of the floor like thick, murky water.
The sky above them was pitch black, there weren't any mana stones embedded in any ceiling to give them light.
Hell, there wasn't even a ceiling in the first place. Just a deep, pitch-black void that held no stars.
Even though they still weren't able to see the floor clearly, they could make out shapes in the snow.
But this time, they were in the form of gigantic snow spikes, much like the ones outside the door.
What made these ones different was their colossal size.
Each one rose from beneath the mist at a height of forty feet and a width of eighteen inches.
And that was only accounting for the regular ones. Some were even bigger, with the largest reaching seventy feet.
But it didn't stop with their colossal size. No, how could it?
Walking up to one of the pillars, Azrael laid his hands on the structure and pushed into it as hard as he could, but the spike didn't even budge.
It remained the same, completely unaffected by the pressure he was putting on it.
Seeing this, he increased the gravity surrounding his hands, pushing even harder. It still gave him little to nothing.
The snow making up this snow spike no, this snow pillar looked and felt to be tougher than the most expensive iron money could buy.
Its surface felt like it was covered in tiny shards of ice, littered within and around it.
Looking around them, they saw hundreds of pillars, all looking to be around the same impossible density.
Seeing they couldn't affect the pillars in the slightest, they turned their attention forward, choosing to ignore the frozen forest scattered around them.
The mist obscuring their view seemed to be coming from ahead, where it coalesced into a gigantic, shifting wall much like the transparent blue boundary that had separated the previous floors.
As they turned to walk toward it, The floor erupted.
They were thrown onto their knees as the very ground began to shake violently.
That was when a sound made itself known a deep, grinding rumble like an avalanche tearing down a mountain.
The vibrations from the sound shook the ground, made their legs wobble, their ears ring. Even the mist covering the floor trembled.
The mist forming the colossal wall began to shake as well, proving that not even the cold air was safe from the vibrations.
As everything shook, the wall of mist began to part. It slowly lowered itself, merging with the fog already blanketing the snow.
And that was when Olivia and Azrael finally saw what was behind that curtain.
Its body was massive and feline in posture.
Its flesh looked to be sculpted from frost, ice, and snow, but upon closer inspection, it was just its fur—a deep, pure white so absolute it appeared to be snow at first glance.
Jagged crystalline plates erupted along its spine and shoulders, uneven and razor-sharp.
Its head was the most unsettling part: elongated and armored in overlapping shards of ice that formed a cruel, angular mask.
Where a mouth should be was a serrated maw, rows of translucent, icicle-like teeth interlocking with predatory precision.
They found no eyes. Its head was bare of eyes, ears, or a nose. It had only its serrated maw.
It looked to be lying down, sleeping, as the mist that covered everything on this floor rolled out from its open mouth and seeped from its colossal body.
The sound that was shaking the very floor and mist was coming from it as well.
As the tremors continued, both Azrael and Olivia were thrown onto their faces, right into the snow.
And the moment they landed, something strange happened.
The sound disappeared.
The vibrations stopped.
No more mist was produced.