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Chapter 19 – The Boy with the Black Hair
The world spun.
One second I had Silvia clutched against me, leaping through the glowing teleportation rune with the chest of rewards strapped to my back. The next, my arms were empty, the light swallowed everything, and I landed alone.
Alone.
"Silvia?" My voice echoed off the trees. Only the chirping of unseen insects and the swaying branches replied.
This wasn't the cold dungeon chamber anymore. Instead, I stood in what looked like a forest—massive trees stretching high, their leaves blotting out most of the sunlight. Moss covered the ground, and thick mist hung low, curling between the roots like a living thing.
I turned in a circle, chest heaving. "No, no, no. Where the hell did you go?"
The rune was gone. There was no glowing doorway, no path back. Just endless woods.
Panic clawed at my chest. I could fight monsters, solve riddles, and even banter with that damned voice—but being without Silvia? That was worse than anything the dungeon had thrown at me so far.
I picked a direction at random and started running, my boots slamming against the damp earth. Branches whipped at my arms as I pushed forward, the mist growing thicker.
She's fine. She has to be fine.
But the silence didn't reassure me.
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Silvia
The teleportation rune spat me out with far less grace than Kelvin had managed. I stumbled, nearly tripping over a root, and caught myself against a trunk.
"Kelvin?" I called. Nothing. My heart dropped.
Instead, the air around me shifted. A faint clicking sound echoed from above. I froze, every nerve on edge. Then it came again—this time closer, rustling leaves followed by a snapping branch.
Someone—or something—was moving toward me.
I drew in a breath, mana pooling into my palms. "Who's there?"
The figure that emerged from the undergrowth was not what I expected.
He was tall, at least a head taller than Kelvin, with sharp features that instantly reminded me of him. But while Kelvin's hair was a wild brown mess, this boy's was jet black, falling over his forehead in messy strands. His eyes, too, were darker—stormy gray rather than warm brown. His jawline was sharper, his build older, more filled out.
And gods, he moved with a lazy confidence that made it hard to decide if I should fight him or laugh.
"You're the one who trapped me, aren't you?" I demanded, raising my guard.
He blinked at me, then threw his hands up like I'd accused him of theft. "Whoa, whoa, slow down, ice princess. Trap you? I wouldn't waste my time doing that."
"…Ice princess?" I muttered.
"I mean, look at you. Frosty glare, chilly mana, probably royalty somewhere." He grinned, wide and unbothered. "Nah, wasn't me. But I am flattered you think I'm clever enough to run this dungeon."
His grin was disarming, and the sheer bluntness of his denial almost made me laugh. Almost.
"Then who are you?"
The boy planted his hands on his hips like this was some grand introduction. "Name's Billy Blackhead. Professional looter, occasional heartbreaker, full-time survivor. Been stuck on this floor longer than I'd like."
"Blackhead?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed dramatically. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Parents hated me. Or maybe they had a twisted sense of humor. Either way, I'm stuck with it."
Despite myself, a small chuckle slipped out.
Billy smirked like he'd won something. "See? You can laugh. Anyway, you clearly don't know your way around here. If you're looking for someone—" his gaze sharpened for a fraction of a second, as if reading me "—then you'll want a better vantage point."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said smoothly, stepping closer without asking permission, "come with me to my treehouse. Tallest one on the block. Best view you'll get without growing wings."
Before I could answer, his hand shot out and—
"Wait—!" I squeaked as he wrapped an arm firmly around my waist. With the other, he fired a grappling line into the canopy above.
The world blurred into a rush of green as we shot upward, my stomach lurching. His arm was steady, holding me close, his grin infuriatingly smug.
"See? Isn't this better than walking?"
"You could've at least asked!" I snapped, cheeks burning.
"Where's the fun in that?"
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The Treehouse
We landed smoothly on a wide wooden platform nestled high among the branches. My eyes widened as I took in the scene:
Weapons leaned against walls, crates overflowed with jewels and trinkets, armor pieces gleamed under the filtered light. It was a hoard—a treasure trove looted from this floor.
"You… stole all this?" I asked.
"Collected," Billy corrected, dusting himself off. "If the dungeon wanted to keep it, it should've hidden it better. Don't worry, I didn't take anything cursed." He winked. "Probably."
I ignored the wink, scanning the artifacts. There were enough relics here to outfit a small army, yet he was still here.
"You haven't found the exit?"
Billy's grin faltered for the first time. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Funny thing about this floor—it's got a day and night cycle. At night, the monsters get… let's just say, cranky. I've survived this long by not being outdoors after dark."
He gestured toward a hammock, a small cooking setup, and, to my surprise, a bed tucked neatly into the corner.
"You can crash here tonight," he said casually, as if we were old friends. "Trust me, it's safer. I'll even be a gentleman and take the floor."
I folded my arms, wary but exhausted. The thought of fighting through this forest alone until sunrise made my skin crawl.
"…Fine. But this doesn't mean I trust you."
He smirked again. "That's fine. I'll win you over by morning."
Rolling my eyes, I sat on the bed, every muscle still tense. But one thing was certain: this floor was only getting stranger.
And somewhere out there, Kelvin was still searching for me.
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Author's Note:
Phew! Things just got messy—Kelvin and Silvia separated, and now this mysterious "Billy Blackhead" pops up out of nowhere. Who is this guy really, and why does he resemble Kelvin so much? 🤔
Now, before we head into the next chapter, here's a little riddle for you all:
🧩 Riddle of the Day:
I'm always in front of you but can never be seen.
I can be wasted, but never touched.
I pass by, yet I stay forever.
What am I?
Drop your answers in the comments below—I'll reveal it in the next chapter! 😉