[Some time later]
The metallic sound echoed softly within the stone chamber.
Lili crouched to pick up one of the gauntlets from the floor and blew the dust off before handing it over. Luki raised his arm, letting her fit the piece carefully.
— Make sure to tighten the straps. — he said flatly, watching the methodical way she worked.
— I'm already doing that. — Lili replied, focused. — And before you ask, yes, I know what I'm doing.
She fastened the last buckle and, without lifting her head, began to speak:
— This place... is called the Sanctuary of Rest. A rare space that, apparently, can appear on any floor. Monsters can't enter or spawn here. — Her voice was steady and serious, instructing Luki in the ways of the Dungeon while helping to put back his armor.
Luki adjusted his breastplate, the sound of metal scraping against metal.— Right, I got that part.
— I'm not done yet. — Lili grabbed his shoulder and made him turn, securing the backplate to the front.
— Each Sanctuary has a limit on time and people. — She pointed subtly at the numbers in the air.
— When the time runs out, the Sanctuary vanishes... and takes everything with it.
— "Takes with it"? Like... literally? — he asked, frowning.
— Yes... well, I suppose so. It's not like anyone's ever come back to tell the story. — She locked the clasp and exhaled a small sigh.
— They say the Dungeon swallows anyone who's still inside. Just like it does with bodies and items left on the floor.
Luki let out a dry, humorless laugh, trying to ease the weight of the talk with a joke.
— So that's it... either I get crushed, shredded, impaled, flayed, poisoned, or burned... or I'm late and you get eaten alive by the floor. Nice. No pressure.
— There is also the possibility that you could drown and melt from the inside out. Slimes are deadlier than they look... — she replied simply.
She stepped half a pace back, checking the armor's fit, then picked up the helmet with both hands.
— There's another rule, though we don't need to worry about it now. — she continued in a quieter tone.
— If more people enter than the limit allows, the Sanctuary expels everyone... and leaves a curse behind.
Luki remained silent, waiting for her to go on. And she did.
— One that prevents you from entering any other Sanctuary. And it can only be lifted by a high-ranking cleric.
Lili met his gaze, emotionless, but with a trace of amusement hidden beneath.
— The kind of person that, unfortunately, doesn't exist anymore in Orario, or anywhere within two hundred kilometers of it. Like you said, no pressure.
Luki stood quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the pedestal at the center of the room.
— That's cruel... and complicated. As far as I know, the Dungeon is merciless, but it always leaves a thread of hope to lure in the greedy. There must be a way around it... — He extended his hand, and Lili placed the helmet in it.
— There is. Kill monsters, collect their magic stones, and offer them in the basin. — she finished.
— Hm... spending days and nights in the Dungeon hunting riches just to sacrifice them to keep a safe room active... In the end, you're just burning your own resources. Clever design. — he muttered, turning the helmet in his hands.
— Got it. I'll make sure to take down as many as I can.
Lili nodded. — Just be careful not to get hurt... and don't forget to find your way back.
Luki fitted the helmet over his head and closed the visor. The click echoed like a seal.
He flexed his arms, feeling the familiar weight of the armor.
— That too. — he said, his voice muffled and metallic.
For a moment, silence settled between them. The only sounds were Lili's calm breathing and the faint crackle of magical energy humming along the walls.
She stepped forward and rested a hand on his chestplate, as if giving a final touch. Then, without looking up:
— I don't know what time those strange symbols represent, so be sure to come back before the blue light goes out.
— Don't worry. — Luki replied firmly, without hesitation.
He lifted his hand, but before he could make any familiar gesture, he realized that patting someone's head would be too intrusive, even if her stature and demeanor made the impulse hard to resist. So he simply gave her a light tap on the shoulder and turned away.
As he crossed the golden barrier, the field flared brightly and the soft sound of magic sealing the entrance rang like the closing of an iron door.
Lili remained still for a few seconds, staring at the space he left behind.
Then she hesitated for a moment and clasped her hands together — a gesture she rarely made, since gods had never been her allies. In a whisper barely audible, she murmured to herself:
— Return safely... Luki-sama.
...
As usual, silence reigned within the Dungeon.
No wind, no echoes. Only the muted rhythm of his own footsteps spreading through identical corridors.
For someone who had spent over twenty years in a city, where the noise of cars served as the background to life, that stagnant stillness could be maddening.
Something's wrong. Where is everyone? Where am I? This is dangerous. I'm scared. Get out of here...
It was as if a voice, laced with a piercing static, toyed with his thoughts.
He knew it was just his mind playing tricks, he was used to isolation after so much time down ther, yet it still felt unsettling.
The Upper Labyrinth, as its name implied, was a maze of corridors and chambers.
Unlike the first floor, now its structure was far more complex, chaotic.
If on the first floor the concept of a "floor" still made sense, here it was meaningless.
Passagews ending in stairways leading nowhere; passages looped back to their start; whole routes seemed to fold onto themselves, like the Winchester's mansion. The deeper one went, the more three-dimensional the Upper Labyrinth became.
The yellowish brick walls stretched in perfect lines, no cracks, no marks, nothing to distinguish one passage from another. Every turn looked the same as the last, every room a reflection of the previous. Navigating a labyrinth is far more difficult than games let on, especially when you don't have a map or a top-down view of the environment. Here, memory is king.
Luki stopped for a moment, observing. The low mist hugged his shins, motionless.
He took a deep breath, tightened his grip on the sword's hilt, and moved forward again.
His senses were alert, but his heartbeat steady.
'I'm in the Upper Labyrinth, obviously... I just need to figure out which floor.'
Determining their floor was crucial for survival, both to estimate how long they'd be trapped and to know what dangers awaited them.
The most reliable way to figure that out was, ironically, also the most dangerous.
Luki reasoned through it: the only dependable method was to map monster appearances. Each floor had its own fauna. Monsters like the Lizardmen, who had chased them earlier, only appeared between the Tenth and Twelfth Floors.
'If I identify each monster that shows up and send the info to Lili, she'll be able to deduce the rest,' he thought.
With his plan set, Luki simply kept walking.
The quiet rhythm of his boots echoed onward, undisturbed.
...
Some time later, the silence of the corridor was broken by heavy, rhythmic footsteps.
A massive creature, with shoulders broad as doors and arms thick as tree trunks, approached in slow, deliberate strides.
It wasn't just large; it was dense, a mountain of living muscle.
Its skin was covered in short, coarse fur of a pale white, metallic hue. The bare patches were grayish, oddly soft in appearance but tough and leathery in texture.
It was a Silverback, a gorilla-like monster, one of the strongest that could appear in the Upper Labyrinth.
This one, however, was an evolved version, a consequence of the event that had changed the Dungeon and all of it's monsters. Though its appearance hadn't shifted drastically like other monsters', only growing larger and stronger, its power couldn't be underestimated.
A monster like this demanded above-average Level 2 adventurers, well-equipped and prepared. Even an inexperienced Level 3 would struggle to face it alone.
The creature moved hunched, sniffing the air, until suddenly, a faint metallic click shattered the static silence.
Clack!
The sound cut through the air, sharp and dry. Then came more, in sequence, like old gears and mechanisms awakening.
Trak... trak... trak...
The Silverback lifted its head, confused. A rough grunt escaped its throat.
— Grruuh...?
And then, the ceiling roared.
SCHLACK! SCHLACK! SCHLACK!
With a deafening snap, dozens of iron spikes dropped from above like a deadly rain.
They pierced through the monster's body with such ease it didn't even flinch from the impact, like a hot knife through butter.
Its body convulsed once... and then went still.
The creature was turned into a grotesque sieve, its blood pouring in steaming rivulets that mixed with the mist.
Moments later, the spikes slowly retracted, disappearing back into the holes in the ceiling.
All that remained was the sound of dripping blood and the silent reminder that sometimes, even the smallest mistake could mean the difference between life and death.