DUNGEON SLAVE
CHAPTER 05: THE RED VEIL
The morning sun crept over Narvana, painting the white stone walls with threads of gold.
Axcel watched from his window, tightening the strap of his black gauntlet he got from Helena the previous night. The metal was cool against his skin, freshly polished and engraved with the insignia of his title: dungeon slave. He exhaled. "second dungeon... huh," he muttered, his voice low, a mix of nerves and focus. "Let's see what hell they've got this time."
"Hell?"
A teasing voice drifted from the doorway.
He turned. Rina, one of Narvana's captains, leaned against the frame with arms crossed, her armor catching the light. "If you call this dungeon'hell,' then you don't know a thing"
Axcel smirked. "well maybe it won't be harder than the previous one I guess."
Rina snorted. "True enough. You've got luck or something darker on your side. Either way, Hebana's waiting at the eastern gate. Don't keep her waiting. She doesn't like men much… even less when they're late."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Axcel said, grabbing his blade and slinging it over his back.
The eastern gate loomed high, carved with swirling patterns that shimmered faintly with mana. Hebana, the stoic high priestess, stood before it in her crimson robes, staff in hand. Her long white hair flowed like river mist, and her eyes glowed faintly beneath the hood.
"You've come," she said without turning.
Axcel nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Ready as I'll ever be."
"This trial," Hebana began, "is unlike the others. You'll face no beast, no enemy of flesh or bone. You'll face what lies within."
He frowned. "Within…?"
She looked at him now, her expression unreadable. Her staff struck the ground. The gate's glyphs ignited.
"Step forward, Axcel the slave. Face the Red Veil."
A gust of scarlet light surged outward. The air rippled like molten glass. For a moment, the world bent as if reality shifted.
When Axcel opened his eyes, the scent hit him first.
Rain.
Concrete.
And… gasoline.
He blinked. The sound of cars, distant sirens, the hum of city lights it was Tokyo. His Tokyo.
He stood on a familiar street corner, soaked in neon reflections and drizzle. A train thundered overhead. People brushed past him, faces blurred by speed and rain, their umbrellas a blur of color. His breath caught.
"No way…" he whispered, stepping onto the sidewalk. "This… this can't be... "
But it was. His phone buzzed in his pocket the same cracked screen, the same old messages. He opened one automatically.
[Mom]: Dinner at 7. Don't be late this time. <3
He froze. His throat tightened. Mom…?
Every sound, every light, every smell it was too real. The dull ache in his chest returned, the one he buried long ago when this city was taken from him.
A voice called from across the street. "Axcel! You coming to practice or what?!"
He turned. It was Toma, his old teammate alive, laughing, waving like nothing had ever gone wrong. Behind him, the school gym stood tall and bright, banners fluttering in the rain.
Axcel laughed once, quietly, almost broken. "No way… Toma, you"
A car horn blared. He turned again. The lights of the city shimmered in the puddles. The smell of food stalls, the chatter of people it all clawed at his senses, pulling him in.
For a while, he let himself forget.
He walked the streets he'd lost. Ate ramen at the stall he used to visit. Talked to friends he thought he'd buried. Their laughter felt real; their words burned softly into his mind.
But then… something began to shift.
The sound of rain stopped. Mid-sentence, Toma froze mid-laugh, unmoving, his eyes dull like glass.
The train overhead stalled in the air. The raindrops hung mid-fall.
Axcel's heart started pounding. "What the hell…"
The city lights flickered once, twice and turned crimson.
Then came the whisper.
Soft, right behind his ear:
"You can't leave again… Axcel."
He spun around, but there was no one. Only empty streets painted in blood-red light.
The smell of gasoline thickened. The puddles darkened, swirling not with water, but with something black, viscous, alive.
He stepped back. "This isn't real. This isn't"
The world rippled. The buildings warped, their signs stretching into grotesque symbols. The people his friends turned their heads all at once, their faces melting into featureless masks.
And through the red mist, a figure emerged.
Long hair. Familiar eyes.
His mother's voice.
"Stay, my son."
Axcel's hand trembled over his sword. His breathing quickened. The illusion wasn't breaking
It was feeding.
And somewhere, deep inside, a faint laugh echoed.
Low, hollow. Not his own.
The Abyss within him was awake again.
The voice of his mother lingered...
"Stay… my son… stay here with me."
Axcel's chest tightened. He wanted to believe it wanted to run forward, hug her, forget everything but his instincts screamed no. The air stank of iron and rot. His mother's figure flickered, her skin pulsing faintly beneath the glow of the streetlamp. Then the lamplight split, bleeding down her face like liquid fire.
He stepped back, his hand hovering near his sword. "You're not my mother."
Her smile widened, stretching too far. "But I made you breakfast," she whispered, lifting a trembling hand. Behind her, the door of their old apartment creaked open. Warm light spilled out. He could see the table his seat, the plates, the smell of grilled fish and miso filling the hall. Everything exactly as it was before the accident.
His heart cracked a little. He could hear laughter inside. His father's voice. The clatter of dishes.
"…No way," he breathed.
His legs moved before he could think. He stepped inside.
The room was bright, golden, home. His parents sat across from him, smiling the same gentle smiles they always had. His mother placed a bowl of rice in front of him. "Eat, Axcel. You must be hungry."
He stared, trembling. "You're really here…"
His father laughed. "Where else would we be, son?"
For a moment, everything felt right. The warmth of the food, the hum of the TV, the sound of rain on the balcony. He reached for his chopsticks, a single tear sliding down his cheek.
Then the light flickered.
His mother's hand twitched once, twice. Flesh cracked open at the wrist. Black veins crawled up her arm, across her neck. Her voice distorted, glitching like a broken machine.
"Eat… son… eat…"
Axcel froze. The warmth in the room drained, replaced by a wet, sick sound. His father's eyes rolled upward, his mouth splitting open down the sides, leaking black fluid.
Then they moved.
The two lunged across the table, snarling, skin peeling away like burnt paper. The scent of blood hit him in a wave. Axcel stumbled back, kicking his chair aside and drawing his sword in one motion.
The creatures screeched, their limbs twisting, bodies warping into grotesque shapes half human, half rot.
"… damn it!" He swung.
Blue-black mana flared down the blade's edge, slicing through the thing that had been his father. It screamed, splitting in half before collapsing into red smoke. His mother lunged next, her jaw unhinged, eyes glowing white. He ducked beneath her strike, spun, and drove his sword straight through her chest.
"Forgive me…"
Her body froze, then dissolved like ash.
Silence fell. The illusion shattered.
The apartment melted away, walls dripping like wax. He stumbled forward as the floor crumbled beneath him and then he was falling again.
When he landed, he was inside the dungeon.
The ground was red stone slick with blood. The air was thick, humid, choking. Gigantic veins pulsed along the walls like living arteries. Above him floated a vast, throbbing brain, its surface glistening and wet, a single massive eye embedded in its center. Tentacles dangled from beneath it, twitching with a wet slap.
A system chime echoed inside his head:
[Boss Detected: Brain of Confusion: Khra'xx]
Axcel gritted his teeth, his pulse hammering. "So that was all your doing…"
The brain pulsed, releasing a psychic shriek that split the air. Tentacles lashed forward, cracking the ground where he'd just been. Axcel rolled aside, blue mana surging along his limbs. He countered with a slash, his blade singing through the air and cleaving through one of the limbs.
A hiss echoed through the chamber. The creature recoiled, spraying black fluid that sizzled when it hit the floor.
"Come on!" he roared, charging.
The brain responded instantly its tentacles whipping in a blur. Axcel ducked, sidestepped, parried. Sparks and blood flew as he severed one, two, three limbs. His movements sharpened, body glowing faintly with the surge of mana within him.
He leapt, driving his sword toward the creature's giant eye
but a tendril slammed into him mid-air, sending him crashing against the wall. Pain exploded through his ribs. He spat blood, forcing himself up.
Another lash came; he barely blocked it, the impact numbing his arm.
Then the world began to twist.
He blinked, dizzy. The floor bent, the air rippled. His left hand suddenly went cold
and then it wasn't there.
He gasped, staring in horror as his hand seemed to fade away, blood spurting from an invisible wound.
"What what the hell is..."
Pain flared through his skull. Blood dripped from his eyes. The dungeon spun violently. He dropped to one knee, panting. His vision blurred, and in it he saw his reflection decaying skin graying, hair falling, his right eye rolling from its socket.
He screamed.
The brain's essence filled the air a grotesque sound echoing inside his head.
The tentacles coiled around him, ready to crush.
Axcel's breath slowed. His heartbeat echoed like a drum. Then something inside him snapped.
A dark, cold power surged up from within the same power he'd sworn to control. His cracked gauntlet began to glow, veins of black and blue light crawling along his arm.
"Full… counter."
The tentacles struck.
There was a flash of blinding light. The impact reversed, energy bursting outward, shredding the monster's limbs. The brain reeled, shrieking in agony, its great eye splitting open.
Axcel moved through the dust, his body burning with mana. He hooked a line into the creature's flesh, swinging upward. With a roar, he drove his sword straight through its massive eye.
The explosion of blood and light shook the chamber. The creature convulsed, flailing wildly before collapsing into itself, melting into red mist.
Then came the familiar chime:
[Boss Defeated]
Level Up: 22 → 32
Reward Acquired: Blood Wine (rare Item)
Axcel fell to one knee, gasping, his sword dripping crimson fluid that hissed when it hit the ground.
A final message shimmered before his eyes:
[Blood Wine – A liquid of power born from the Red Veil. Drinking it will grant a permanent increase to all stats. In critical moments, it will unlock a state of limitless instinct and rage – but beware. ,of losing yourself.]
He stared at the glowing vial that materialized in his palm a small glass bottle swirling with thick, dark red liquid. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
"Permanent boost, huh…" he muttered, forcing a smirk even as his body trembled. "But losing myself… doesn't sound too fun."
The dungeon's air was silent now. The red light faded, replaced by dull gray.
He stood, sheathing his sword, and turned toward the exit as a single thought echoed in his head
If the second dungeon was this twisted… what awaited him in the next one?
The Blood Wine pulsed once more in his hand, matching his heartbeat.
The Red Veil had been lifted.
But something inside him whispered it had only just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED...