CHAPTER 29: The Red Dungeon's First Breath
The fall did not feel like falling.
It felt like being erased from the map of the living. One moment, there was the bright, harsh sky of the Garcia Kingdom. There was the roar of the crowd. There was the smell of ozone and the sight of a shattered arena.
Then. Silence.
A silence so absolute it felt like a physical weight pressing against the eardrums.
Lucius's boots touched the ground first.
Soft.
Too soft.
It was not the cold, unyielding granite of the Academy platforms. It was not the dry soil of the training grounds. It was something in between. The surface gave slightly under his weight, a subtle, sickening squelch that felt like stepping on living flesh disguised as earth.
The world around them was fundamentally wrong.
The sky was gone. In its place stretched a vast, oppressive ceiling of dark crimson. Veins of black pulsed faintly through the overhead expanse, rhythmically pushing a dark, unseen fluid through the ceiling like a living wound. It did not glow with light. It breathed with malice.
The air was thick. Heavy. It was saturated with a metallic tang that made every inhale taste like liquid iron. Every exhale felt like it did not belong to Lucius, as if the atmosphere were trying to swap his internal chemistry for something alien.
Jax landed next. He hit the ground hard, rolling to distribute the impact before forcing himself upright. His bronze spear scraped against the strange, fleshy ground as he used it to steady his trembling legs.
"What the hell.... Is this place?" Jax muttered.
His eyes scanned the horizon, but there was no horizon. There was only the endless repetition of crimson mounds and black veins.
Hans dropped last among the boys. He collapsed onto his knees, his hands trembling as they touched the ground. He dug his fingers into the soft surface as if trying to confirm that he had not finally lost his mind.
We're. Inside. he whispered. His voice was small, shaking with the realization of a scholar who knew exactly what the Red Rank entailed.
Seraphina landed last.
She was graceful, even in a nightmare. Her feet made no sound as she touched down, but her breathing was uneven. Her silver eyes flickered with an uncertainty she was not used to feeling. The confidence of House Thornvale did not carry much weight in a place that did not follow human laws.
Silence.
A suffocating, unnatural silence that seemed to swallow the sound of their own heartbeats.
Lucius stepped forward.
His crimson eyes moved slowly. He was not looking for a way out. He was measuring the density of the mana. It was chaotic. Unstable. It felt like mana that had been forced into existence through sheer, violent will rather than natural flow.
We don't know the type of dungeon, Lucius said.
His voice cut through the silence like a cold blade. It was a grounding force in the madness.
We don't know its rank.
He turned his gaze toward Seraphina. She was standing slightly apart, her hand resting on the hilt of a dagger she had hidden in her robes.
Then why did you run toward it. Lucius asked.
Jax looked at her, his brow furrowed. Hans slowly raised his head, curious despite his terror.
Seraphina froze. Just for a second. A faint, uncharacteristic blush crept across her cheeks, visible even in the dim, red light of the dungeon.
I. I couldn't let the person who defeated me in the sparring contest die, she said.
She tried to sound composed, crossing her arms and looking away at a distant pulsing vein.
When I was a child. My mother used to tell me stories, she began. Her voice softened, losing the sharp edge of a noblewoman. Stories about a hero defeating a girl. Whether in battle or through a grand misunderstanding.
She hesitated, her fingers twitching. And how they would later become married.
Jax blinked.
Hans coughed violently, the metallic air catching in his throat.
Seraphina turned back, pointing a finger directly at Lucius's chest. Her eyes were firm now, the embarrassment replaced by a stubborn, noble resolve.
So I decided. I want you to be my husband.
Silence.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Lucius looked at her. He did not look shocked. He did not look flattered. He looked at her the same way he looked at a broken piece of equipment. There was no emotion in his eyes. No hesitation in his mind.
No.
The word was immediate. Sharp. Final.
Seraphina flinched, but only slightly. Her eyes hardened. She did not accept defeat easily.
I'm not giving up, she countered.
Jax stepped forward, a small, forced grin breaking through his fear.
Hey, Lucius. Think about it, he said, trying to lighten the crushing atmosphere. She's from House Thornvale. That's the richest house in the entire kingdom. You could skip years of struggle.
Lucius gave no response. He had already turned away. His focus had shifted completely. The idle chatter of marriage and houses was a luxury of the world above. Here, those things were static.
They're here.
The air changed instantly. The temperature dropped, and the smell of iron became overwhelming.
Hans froze. His entire body locked up, his muscles turning to stone. His eyes widened as he stared at the ground a few meters ahead of them.
.No. he whispered.
The ground ahead rippled. It did not crack or break. It flowed like liquid. It looked like ink spreading across the fabric of reality.
Something emerged from the ink.
It was a humanoid shape, but it was not human. Its body was made of a thick, black liquid that was constantly shifting, constantly rewriting its own silhouette. Its face was a nightmare of transition. Eyes formed, blinked once, then melted back into the skull. A mouth appeared, opened to scream, and then vanished before a sound could escape.
Wings unfolded from its back. They were not made of feathers or bone. They were sheets of ink that dripped onto the ground, creating new puddles of darkness.
Inkveil Seraph, Hans said.
The creature tilted its head. It was watching them. It was not hungry. It was studying them.
It's a fallen angel type entity, Hans said, stepping back until his heels hit a pulsing vein. It learns mid battle. It adapts to the damage it receives. It rewrites its body to counter its opponents.
Hans's breathing became uneven. If it touches you. It erases short term memory. It eats the experience of the fight.
Jax tightened his grip on his spear. So it gets stronger while we get more confused.
Hans nodded frantically. Yes. And its clones. They learn from the damage the main body takes.
The Seraph's body rippled again. The ink bubbled and split.
Two.
Then three.
Each clone was slightly imperfect, their edges blurred, but they were alive. They were watching. They were learning the stance of the boy with the spear and the girl with the vines.
Seraphina stepped back. This isn't normal. A Red Rank entity shouldn't be at the entrance. she muttered.
Lucius stepped forward. He did not activate his Talent. He did not call upon the System. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, his fingers finding the familiar grooves.
Jax. Frontline.
Seraphina. Control.
Hans. Observe.
Hans blinked, his mouth falling open. W. What.
You said you studied monsters, Lucius said calmly. His gaze never left the lead Seraph. Then prove it.
The Seraph moved.
It did not run or fly. It simply vanished from its position and reappeared directly in front of Jax. A blade of solidified ink formed instantly from its forearm, glowing with a dull, sickening light.
CLANG.
Jax barely brought his spear up in time. The force of the blow was immense, vibrating through his bones and pushing him back several meters across the soft ground.
Damn. Jax hissed, his injured leg protesting the strain.
Another clone attacked from the side, its fingers elongating into needles.
Thorn Lash.
Seraphina's vines shot forward, glowing with a faint green mana. But the creature's body rippled, becoming as thin as a sheet of paper. The vines passed through it like smoke.
It's rewriting its body. Hans shouted.
The battlefield descended into chaos. The clones moved with a disjointed, eerie grace. Every time Jax landed a blow or Seraphina attempted a binding, the Seraphs changed. They became more fluid to avoid piercing damage. They became more dense to withstand blunt force.
Lucius watched.
Every movement. Every reaction. Every shift in form.
He was not fighting yet. He was reading the monster. He was treating the battle like a draft that needed editing.
Hans. Lucius spoke again.
Hans flinched. Y. Yes.
You said it adapts, Lucius said. He stepped aside as a clone rushed him. The movement was effortless, a mere inches of difference that left the creature striking air. And rewrites its form.
Another strike came. Another dodge. Minimal movement. Maximum efficiency.
And it can create clones.
Lucius's gaze sharpened.
Does it have a soul.
Hans froze. The question hit him harder than the monster. Y. Yes, Hans answered after a second. All intelligent monsters. Especially entities like this. They have a core. Something like a soul.
Lucius did not respond immediately. The lead Seraph lunged again. This time, Lucius drew his blade.
A single motion. Clean.
The attack was deflected. Not blocked, but redirected into the ground. The clone stumbled, its ink body splashing against the earth.
Lucius stepped back.
Then. He asked again.
Hans.
Hans swallowed. Yes.
Do you have a way to kill it.
Silence.
The battlefield roared around them. Jax was struggling, his bronze spear dented. Seraphina was adapting, her vines becoming more complex, but the clones were multiplying.
Hans's mind raced. He went through every book he had memorized in the corners of his room. Every scroll.
"When I was a kid… I read everything I could find about monsters… their behavior, their cores… their weaknesses
.Yes. he said finally.
Lucius did not look at him.
Speak.
Hans clenched his fists. It adapts to physical damage. And mana attacks. He pointed toward the center of the lead creature. But its core. The soul. It doesn't change. It can't.
Lucius's eyes narrowed slightly.
If we find it. We can kill it.
The lead Seraph tilted its head. As if it understood. Its body shifted faster now. More refined. More dangerous. It was no longer observing.
The Inkveil Seraph moved with intent. Not curiosity. Killing intent.
Lucius stepped forward, his sword held in a low guard.
Then we won't fight the body, he said quietly.
The Red Dungeon pulsed. A deep, heavy throb that vibrated through their boots.
"A body that changes is meaningless… but a core that doesn't… is a weakness."
We kill the soul.
The real battle had just begun.
To Be Continued.