Kaelen's boots echoed faintly through the silent cave as he ventured deeper into the winding tunnels. The faint blue glow of crystals embedded in the rock cast eerie shadows that danced along the jagged walls. He had already cleared most of the undead near the entrance, and now only silence remained—a silence that felt far too heavy.
He slowed his pace, hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "Something's not right…" he muttered, eyes narrowing.
A low growl came from beside him. Luna, her scales shimmering faintly under the dim light, pressed closer. Though still a newborn and unable to speak, her instinctive unease mirrored his own.
Kaelen gave a small nod. "Stay close."
Then the air shifted.
The faint hum of magic stirred from deep within the walls, and ancient red runes flared to life beneath his feet. The ground vibrated violently as the entire cavern came alive with energy.
"What—"
Before he could react, the floor shattered, and a spiraling vortex opened beneath him.
"Luna!" he shouted, but before she could reach him, the vortex pulled him in whole, swallowing his figure and sealing shut with a blinding flash.
When Kaelen awoke, everything was pitch black and cold.
His head throbbed as his vision adjusted to the faint light flickering from torches set along a damp stone corridor. The air smelled of decay and rusted metal. As he moved, heavy chains clinked at his wrists and ankles.
He was in a cell.
[You have entered a Special Map: The Ghoul's Larder][Due to unknown interference, your resurrection point has been forcibly changed to: The Ghoul's Larder]
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "A special map that changes my respawn point…"
That was never a good sign. It meant even death wouldn't release him from this place.
He tugged at the chains, but they refused to move. Enchanted, most likely. His sword wouldn't summon either—restricted. Whoever designed this dungeon wanted prisoners powerless.
A hoarse voice came from beside him. "Don't bother. You'll just waste your strength."
Kaelen turned. The speaker was an older man, slumped in the next cell over, his eyes dim and skin grayish.
"Where am I?" Kaelen asked quietly.
"The Ghoul's Larder," the man rasped. "We're cattle here. They keep us until they decide to feed."
Kaelen frowned. "Feed? You mean they eat you?"
The man gave a hollow laugh. "Not like you think. They don't feast on flesh. They feed on life force—your vitality, your soul's energy. They drain you until there's nothing left."
The chains rattled as Kaelen gritted his teeth. "And no one fights back?"
"Fight back with what?" the man whispered bitterly. "Even our weapons are sealed. The cells are enchanted by necrotic wards. Those who resist… are eaten first."
Kaelen's mind raced. He confirmed Luna's presence—thankfully, her essence still lingered in his companion space. She hadn't been drawn into the trap. That was his one relief.
He needed to escape before he ended up like the rest.
Minutes passed before the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. The other prisoners fell silent instantly. The torches flickered as two figures emerged from the shadows—gaunt, tall creatures with pale gray skin stretched tight over their bones. Their glowing green eyes glinted like lanterns in the dark.
Ghouls.
Kaelen's stomach turned at the sight. He'd fought low-level undead before, but these things radiated intelligence—and hunger.
The taller one, its neck twisted at an odd angle, sniffed the air slowly before its gaze landed on Kaelen's cell. A grotesque smile spread across its face, revealing rows of serrated teeth.
"You… smell different," it hissed.
Kaelen met its gaze calmly. "Keep your nose out of my business."
The creature chuckled—a sickening, rasping sound that echoed down the corridor. "So much fire. You'll burn out quickly here."
Kaelen instinctively brought up its details.
[Name: Ghoul Rakar][Rank: Elite-tier][Level: 42]
He didn't need the rest of the information to know that a direct fight now was impossible.
The ghoul leaned closer, its bony fingers brushing the bars. The enchantment shimmered faintly, reacting to its touch. "My master will be pleased. It's been centuries since someone of divine scent has stumbled into our lair."
Kaelen's eyes flickered in confusion. "Divine scent?"
Rakar's grin widened. "Your blood hums with something special. I can taste it."
He extended one hand, letting his claws drag along the bars with a metallic screech. Sparks of black energy danced across his fingertips. Kaelen's body tensed—he could feel his mana flicker as if something invisible was tugging at it.
He clenched his jaw and summoned his weapon, pouring energy into it. A faint golden light burst from his palm, disrupting the ghoul's attempt.
Rakar recoiled slightly, hissing. "You dare resist?"
"Try me again," Kaelen said, voice low.
The ghoul's grin returned, but this time, it was colder. "You're amusing… perhaps I'll feed on you personally."
With a snap of its claws, the runes along Kaelen's cell shimmered. The door unlocked with a click.
Rakar gestured toward him. "Out. Now."
Kaelen hesitated, eyes flicking toward the other prisoners. The older man shook his head faintly, mouthing words—Don't resist. Not here.
With no other choice, Kaelen stepped forward. The chains clinked as he walked past the threshold. The ghoul's bony hand shot out, gripping his shoulder with unnatural strength.
"This way," Rakar said.
Kaelen took in every detail as they walked down the long, twisting corridor—the symbols etched into the walls, the faint glowing veins of necrotic mana running beneath the stone, the heavy iron doors spaced evenly apart.
The deeper they went, the colder the air became. He could faintly hear muffled cries from beyond the walls—others being drained, their energy feeding whatever monstrosities lived here.
After several turns, they entered a vast chamber lit by hundreds of pale green lanterns. At the center stood a black altar carved from obsidian, its surface covered in glowing sigils. Chains hung from the ceiling, some ending in empty manacles, others… not.
Kaelen's pulse quickened.
Rakar's voice dripped with anticipation. "This is where we dine."
Dozens of ghouls emerged from the shadows, their glowing eyes flickering hungrily. The moment Kaelen stepped forward, every gaze locked on him.
He could feel it—their hunger. It wasn't for blood or flesh. It was for something far deeper.
Rakar gestured toward the altar. "Kneel."
Kaelen's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. "Sorry… I don't kneel for monsters."
Rakar's grin faltered. "Then you'll scream instead."
The ghoul snapped his fingers, and the runes along the floor flared to life. Chains of shadow burst from the ground, wrapping around Kaelen's limbs. He braced himself, divine energy swirling in his chest, his trait quietly humming beneath the surface.
Even trapped, his eyes burned with resolve.
If these creatures thought he was just another prisoner—they were about to learn otherwise.