————
[Floor 25]
-24-
[Floor 23]
[…]
[Exit]
⸻
"Straight to the heart, then," I muttered. "So be it."
I chose [Floor 25], and the world twisted.
BOOOOM.
I staggered forward onto black sand that crunched beneath my boots.
The stench of ash, frost, and burnt iron invaded my lungs. In front of me stretched an unnatural very huge plain where shards of glowing ice jutted like fangs from the ground.
Beyond them rose the capital of the Scalaris: walls of obsidian fused with ice, their jagged surfaces alive with veins of silver light.
Towers loomed above, crowned with spiked battlements and fluttering banners in deep blue and black.
The air here was heavier than on any other floor, vibrating faintly as though the dungeon itself was watching me.
"His Majesty!"
The shout carried over the wind, and I turned. A formation of soldiers in imperial armor rushed toward me, their banners marked with my crest. They weren't enemies — they were my own.
Relief mixed with discipline shone in their faces. The frontmost among them — a man with sharp features, short dark hair, and a black cloak over his pauldrons — broke formation and strode forward.
"Your Majesty," he said, dropping to one knee.
"Orion Darkwood." I smiled faintly. "You've survived."
Orion rose, his obsidian-colored eyes hard but steady. "Barely. The dungeon tested us more than I expected… but we made it this far. Though not without losses." His jaw tightened as if recalling the fallen.
"You've done well," I said firmly. "Report."
Orion nodded, signaling for two lieutenants to step forward. They carried rolled-up maps, frayed and patched together from what they had scouted.
He unrolled one across the back of a shield, using a dagger to pin it down against the wind.
"This," he said, pointing, "is the city proper. We pushed this far weeks ago. The Scalari King, in their arrogance, sealed the innermost wall infringe of us. We are trapped here… unless we get in there."
"Trapped?" I frowned.
"Yes, Your Majesty. But here is the bitter truth: the bulk of the population was already gone before we even came.
Caravans, fleets, whole families vanished from the city. We found empty homes, empty granaries, and sealed vaults. They knew we were coming."
A cold rage stirred inside me. "So they were warned."
Orion met my gaze, grim. "A spy, Your Majesty. Someone in the Empire. It is the only explanation. The Scalari King had too much time to prepare their escape."
The words tasted like poison. A spy — deep enough in my realm to leak plans of war and invasion. Someone close enough to cripple an empire's strike. The first thought shot to Ragnar.
I shook my head, only…the eight noble men knew... It shudder me, „who…? No why…?" I mumble and thought, is it of Ludwig too?
The soldiers around us shifted uneasily. The idea of betrayal gnawed at morale like rot.
I clenched my fist. "Then we will tear their false capital down stone by stone. If they think they can flee Manara's judgment, they are mistaken."
A spark of fire returned to the men's eyes at my words. Orion inclined his head, his expression easing slightly.
"Your Majesty," he said, "our scouts report the King themselves still linger somewhere inside the palace.
Their guard remains strong. If we are to root them out, we must march carefully. This city is filled with traps, ambushes, and corrupted beasts they left behind."
"Then we march," I said coldly. "The dungeon will feel my wrath — and the traitor, whoever they are, will be unmasked in time."
The icy wind howled over the black walls, carrying the echo of a war yet to come.
Orion nodded and nodded towards the direction he walked, his dark armor shimmered smooth by every step and I followed him. The ice and the ashy sand crunched under my feet.
Then with a calm voice he said; „We have another problem…" he looked around us, as if some soldiers heard him, „you see this back plain right?"
I nodded and kicked the ground with disgust.
Orion coughed and continued; „The experts says and if you look more closely…the whole plain was once a farming land."
My eyes widened in shock and got more narrow again; „They did it on purpose…" the grip on my hilt got harder. Out of anger i clenched my sword and was just one string away to swing it.
My commander nodded „Yes…we think that…they planned to let us hunger to death here…"
Orion's words sank into me like poisoned blades.
The entire plain… farmland once, turned to ash and blackened soil. I looked again, closer this time, and saw the traces: shattered irrigation lines now frozen solid, broken stone fences jutting out from beneath the sand, and the skeletal remains of dead trees stripped of bark.
"They salted the earth with frost," Orion said quietly, his tone low but carrying to my ears. "Every field destroyed. Every well poisoned with ice. Nothing grows here. Not even weeds."
The rage inside me burned hotter than the frozen air around us. "They would rather destroy their own people's breadbasket than let us take it."
Orion's jaw tightened. "It was not for their people, Majesty. The civilians were already gone when they ordered it. This was done for us. To choke us slowly, to bleed our rations and morale until the dungeon and hunger itself finishes the work."
My hand tightened around the hilt of my sword. I could almost hear the blade begging to be unsheathed, to cut down something, anything, for this insult.
"Cowards. Traitors to their own land."
The men around us remained silent, but their eyes told me they had all seen it too. The empty granaries. The dried cisterns. The deliberately ruined farmland. A kingdom so fearful of losing that it was willing to murder its own soil.
I drew a breath, deep and steady, forcing my fury back into my chest where it would burn hotter, sharper, more useful.
"They believe they can starve us. That we will wither before we reach their walls." I looked at Orion, then at the men.
"But they have miscalculated. We will not wither. We will not bend. We will take their last bastion and show the world what happens to kings who think they can escape Manara's justice."
Orion gave a grim smile, his obsidian eyes flickering with something between admiration and grim resolve.
"Then it will be done. But we must strike soon. The longer we linger, the more the dungeon twists this place against us. Already, the beasts are growing stronger. The shadows move strangely. Even the wind carries whispers."
I turned my gaze back to the looming city. Black walls, jagged towers, a palace of ice and obsidian rising in the distance like a knife aimed at the sky.
"Then we march at dawn," I said. "And if the Scalari King thinks he can outlast me behind his walls, he will learn what it means to face the Emperor himself."
The commander bowed his head. The wind howled louder, as though the dungeon itself answered my challenge.