The pit loomed, and the bottom was shrouded in darkness. ‘Where does this even lead?’ questions on Simon’s mind. Unlike before, he knew by the chill of his spine, the standing hair on his neck. Something was wrong.

  ‘The same thing when I first saw this sword.’ He raised the sword near his chest, inspecting it. The bde didn’t even dull; it was still pristine. ‘A sword that could cut anything!’ It was such a thrilling feeling, but ‘It will dull my skills if I continue to use it.’ He was sure of it; although young, he knew his tendencies.

  [What are you waiting for? Jump! I’m waiting at the bottom!] The voice that he had been with while traversing the dungeon disturbed his thoughts.

  ‘Cryvii, who are you? How do you know me, why Vael?’

  [One way to find out, Simon, jump into the hole!]

  Simon breathed in, like jumping to swim, he held his breath before heading in. That was what his instinct was telling him to do. It was like jumping into the waters.

  ‘Here I go!’

  Bottom of the Tunnel.

  ‘Spsh!’

  Simon nded on a soft gel floor, which had water on its surface, but the viscosity was so high that it didn't even ripple that much when his feet came into contact.

  ‘What is this pce?’ he muttered. Though the words left his lips, no sound registered in his ears. Yet by the air brushing against his nose, he realized he could breathe just fine.

  ‘Cryvii?’ he called out the voice that led him to the bottom of the dungeon.

  ‘I'm here!’ and suddenly, Cryvii, the wolf, appeared in front of him.

  He was silver-maned, standing up to four feet. His legs were far longer than those of a normal wolf, and it was evident as Cryvii sat down. The wolf had now become taller, up to 7 feet. His tail swayed as he stared at Simon. His dark eyes looked at Simon's visage, inspecting him carefully.

  A majestic visage, but at the same time deadly, then again, ruined when the wolf opened its mouth, tongue hanging loose. His ears were perked up, too.

  ‘Where did he come from?’ Simon was sure that if someone or something approached, he would feel it since the pce had water on its surface.

  ‘Simon! Finally, face to face! Drava would be thrilled to see you!’ The wolf seemed to be speaking as it huffed, but Simon was sure that it was in his mind.

  ‘Will you teach me now how to use this sword?’ Simon held the sword with its bde downwards and plunged it into the gel-like floor.

  ‘Oh! Use it? You catch up quickly! That’s nice!’ Then the wolf tilted his head, his tongue hanging to the side as he huffed. ‘Come on! I haven't been petted for ages! Will you use those hands and pet me first?’

  Cryvii huffed like he was pleading.

  ‘I understand, but I don't, too,’ was the resigned answer from Simon as he approached the wolf.

  The wolf, Cryvii, was lying on its belly as Simon followed his instructions.

  ‘There at the right side ooooh!’

  Simon voraciously scratched the right side of his belly.

  It forced the wolf to release two barks of gratitude ‘Woof! Woof!’

  ‘Tell me I'm a good boy!’ another request as Cryvii was lost in Simon's scratches.

  ‘Cryvii! You are a good boy!’

  ‘Finally! Finally! Vael called me a good boy!!’ The wolf scratched the air as he positioned himself for a better angle of scratching.

  His tail and hind legs twitched accordingly in sync with Simon's scratches and pets.

  ‘Aren't you gd you get to pet and scratch my beautiful mane?’

  Simon just stared at the wolf. 'I don't know if I'm gd, but I'm probably doing a good job!' was his answer.

  ‘You do! You do!’

  Cryvii happily licked his fur; his tails waved in happiness, contentedly licking around his body. ‘That has been a while! Thank you, Simon!’

  And Simon had furs all around him, trying to comb them out of his clothes. ‘I could make a scarf out of this fur!’ he thought, but he didn’t have his backpack to store it.

  ‘You think of the weirdest things. Do you want to learn now how to use the sword?’ Cryvii sat straight, looking straight at Simon’s eyes.

  ‘That’s why I’m here!’ the boy answered with no pause. He grabbed the weapon that was plunged into the gel-like ground.

  ‘The truth is, it’s impossible! You can only summon your weapon when your body, soul, and spirit are one. And right now you are useless to me!’

  ‘So you wasted my time?’ Simon sighed, for some reason, he already knew, but still went for it anyway, the sword was just that good.

  ‘Actually, it’s the other way around, you wasted my time! I had hoped, though, that’s why I watched for a while, not only that you repel my soul control attacks, but you also didn’t flinch when I used mind control on you!’

  Simon then remembered the times when he felt his headache. ‘It must be those times…’ He pierced the sword into the ground, an act of letting it go.

  ‘You are correct, now… hey wait! Where are you going?’

  Cryvii whimpered as Simon began to walk away.

  ‘Leave? What else should I do?’ he then shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You cannot leave, do you even know how to leave?’ Cryvii’s hair stood up, the soft bristles stiffened, his legs elongated, and as his body morphed, he grew looming, head steadily in pce as he stared down at Simon.

  ‘Cryvii, you are big!’

  ‘Hmm, you are not intimidated, I see, you didn’t have your memories, but still grew up fearless, the old man must have been tough on you!’

  ‘Stop reading my memories!’

  ‘Looking for your mother, I see, you want to find out what you are, where you should have been, what would have been! That’s so me! So me!’

  ‘Just shut up.’ Simon drew his master’s sword, ready to strike. He didn’t care about anything at all, but he didn’t like how the wolf was mocking him.

  ‘You know nothing beyond survival. That’s all you were ever taught. I see you—strong, yes, but hollow. You fear everything, and you mask it with apathy. You crave connection, but no one stays. They look into your eyes and turn away. You are—’

  ‘Ssh!’

  Simon nded—Cryvii’s head dropped cleanly to the ground.

  ‘Hmm. Good cut,’ the severed head muttered. But he was still alive.

  Simon’s breath caught. Terror crawled up his spine.

  ‘Afraid? Of course. Cutting something down and it still speaks—that’s fear. But it’s fine. You’ve served your purpose. Now... reset.’

  The world around Simon twisted.

  In an instant, he was back in the dungeon core room. No sign of Cryvii—only a jagged lifeless shard of the dungeon core y where the wolf's head had been.

  ‘It was an illusion. He disguised the core as his head.’ “Oh no,” and his hearing, touch, and smell were back. ‘But it felt so real?’

  [I’m letting you go, I wouldn’t want my wife’s effort to be in vain, but that’s if you can survive, damn, you could have been a noble, a knight, a hunter, or even an imperial prince, but you are now just an abandoned child, you are useless to me!]

  “Cryvii, you are mean, I will cut you down if I see you again!” Simon threatened with a gre.

  [That’s if you survive the crash of the dungeon!]

  “Cryvii! Bad wolf!”

  [Whimper!] It was a sad sound of an animal that hurt its feelings [You…].

  From the ground where Simon stood, the earth rumbled. He quickly moved; luckily, he still remembered where the entrance to the bottom was.

  He gripped his mentor’s sword and began climbing the pit he had fallen through earlier, driving the bde into the dungeon wall each time he lost momentum, then using it to push himself upward.

  ‘No monsters when a dungeon is dying!’ he thought as he reached the next floor.

  2nd Floor Muddy Dungeon.

  The second floor had proved tricky, with sprawling tunnels that twisted and turned like a maze carved by nature itself. Without Cryvii’s guidance, it might’ve taken him half a day to find the next path. But this time was different—Simon wasn’t exploring. He was escaping.

  The moment he stepped onto the floor, he halted and shut his eyes. Even as a child, he'd had a sharp sense of direction. Back when the old man was still alive, Simon had often been the one leading them through the twisting tunnels.

  From his soles, he felt the subtle vibrations in the earth. Against his skin, the trembling wind and falling dust from the colpsing dungeon whispered urgency. Then— 'Water!'

  He snapped his eyes open. He just had to follow the flow.

  With a surge of motion, he sprinted forward, each step bursting with force. ‘Found it!’

  A stream from the nearby river was cutting through the dungeon wall. The current was strong, but he spotted stone steps still intact—and chunks of fallen debris offered makeshift footholds. He moved fast, using every surface he could find to stay ahead of the flood and away from being swept away.

  Out of the Muddy Dungeon.

  Simon huffed. He was finally out.

  Behind him, the river poured through the crack he’d escaped from, flooding the tunnel below. He was drenched—he’d had to swim at the st second, using the old man’s sword as a makeshift pick to stop himself from being swept away by the current.

  “Whew...” The adrenaline still burned in his veins. His gaze lingered on the river, and his snake-like eyes slowly shifted from green back to their usual yellow.

  ‘I’m soaked. Guess I’ll stay here a bit,’ he thought, pushing himself to his feet. He made his way back to a tree, then leaped between branches until he found the baggage he’d left behind.

  Seeing his baggage, he knew that he still had some meat in the bag. The thought alone carved a hollow ache into his stomach.

  ‘I’m starving.’

  He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had gained from the dungeon—the reddish stone. It glowed faintly in his palm, warm to the touch.

  ‘Not worth the trouble, but I’ll take it,’ he thought, still unsure of what it actually was.

  He tucked it into one of his bag’s side pockets. ‘Time to set up for a meal!’