The vast vaulted hall resounded with solemn silence, broken only by the faint rustle of armor and the steady rhythm of the knights' breathing—each breath heavy, measured, as if in sync with the heartbeat of the world itself. They stood tall, weapons pressed to their chests, faces carved like stone yet lit by the fervor of the ritual, their gazes locked on Aurelia with a focus so intense it seemed almost tangible.
Around them, the priestesses formed a perfect circle. Their long white-and-silver robes barely brushed the floor as they raised their hands in unison, their movements so perfectly synchronized they resembled an eternal, ageless dance. Then their voices rose in a powerful chant, an incantation passed down since the dawn of time, echoing against the arches like a divine resonance brushing against the heavens.
Aurelia stood still at the center of the circle, her eyes closed. Her figure seemed both human and untouchable, a pillar of authority linking mortals to the divine. Every breath, every heartbeat sent out a subtle vibration the knights could almost feel pulsing in their veins.
Slowly, the ground beneath them bloomed with glowing runes. Light burst between the stones, forming a colossal circle that encompassed the knights. The engraved symbols glowed silver shot through with gold, pulsing like a living heart, and the invisible warmth they radiated made every soul within shiver.
The priestesses' voices swelled into a clearer, more forceful invocation, each word vibrating with mystical intensity, shaking the very walls of stone:
"O you, Aelys, Primordial Goddess of the Soul,
Bearer of the memory of the living and the dead,
Grant us the strength of unity,
Let our blades become our vow,
Let our bodies become a shield,
Let your essence guide our steps.
By your eternal breath we invoke you:
— Gloria Aelys Aeternum!"
At the final word, the circle erupted with divine light, surging upward to the vaulted stone like a radiant bridge uniting earth and sky. The knights were bathed in brilliance, their armor reflecting each beam like caged flames. A searing yet gentle energy coursed through them, a newfound power gripping every fiber of their beings—as though their souls had been bound directly to the goddess herself.
A collective shiver rippled through the circle. Some closed their eyes, overwhelmed; others felt their hearts beating in harmony with the luminous circle's rhythm. The very air thickened, vibrating with the imprint of primordial magic.
At the center, Aurelia slowly opened her eyes. Behind the sacred glow filling the chamber, her gaze remained impenetrable, unfathomable. Yet within that light was an immovable authority, a silent force capable of guiding, restraining, protecting, and inspiring at once. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, suspended in the moment when mortal and divine became one.
The divine radiance faded gradually, leaving behind a lingering sacred warmth within the knights' chests. The runic circle dimmed, until only the drifting incense and the invocation's lingering echo remained, carved into the ancient stones. Each breath seemed to carry a fragment of that energy, settling into their hearts and veins.
The captain of the royal guard—a broad-shouldered man clad in gleaming armor—stepped forward with firm resolve. His gaze, forged in discipline and duty, carried the weight of responsibility. He knelt briefly, pressing his fist against his chest in reverence, the echo of his motion resonating through the vaulted chamber.
"Priestess Aurelia," he said, his deep voice laced with gratitude, "your blessing has granted my men strength beyond mere flesh. We shall carry it with honor and discipline."
Aurelia inclined her head slightly. Her long silver hair slid across her shoulders like flowing light, catching the last shimmer of the fading circle. "Do not thank me, Captain, but Aelys herself. Through her, your souls will burn with an unquenchable flame." Her voice, gentle yet resolute, carried divine authority in every word.
The captain rose, his gaze fixed with determination upon the heavy doors. "Then the time has come. The Labyrinth of Nharok awaits."
At that name, a shiver coursed through the knights. The Labyrinth of Nharok—an ancient dungeon whose stones seemed to breathe, whose corridors twisted like a living creature. Even demons, it was said, shunned its halls. Its origins lay in an age when gods themselves still shaped the world. The air in the chamber seemed to thicken, as though the walls remembered the gravity of what they were about to face.
"Be cautious, Captain," Aurelia whispered, her voice soft as a breath of wind through the arches. "Nharok is not merely a dungeon. It is a scar upon the world… and scars remember."
The captain nodded, jaw clenched yet unyielding. "Scar or abyss, we shall enter it. And we shall emerge victorious—for the kingdom, and for Aelys."
He raised his hand solemnly. The knights, united by the divine blessing, bowed as one. Their movement resonated like the beating of a single mighty heart. Then, with steady, resolute steps, they followed their commander out of the hall. Their footsteps echoed through the corridors, heavy and measured, carrying with them the warmth of divine light and the certainty of destiny.
---
The group advanced cautiously, each step placed with care upon the uneven, slick stone floor. The silence was broken only by the steady drip of water from the stalactites and the faint scrape of boots on damp rock. The wavering glow of crystals cast fleeting light across their faces, shadows flickering on the cavern walls like silent specters.
Yuki, lingering toward the rear, felt her tension mount with each echo of her steps. Hirona shot her a discreet glance, a silent urging to stay close. Riota walked nearby, hands still trembling slightly, but his posture was straighter now, as if the presence of his companions lent him strength.
Daiki moved ahead, inspecting every crevice with a blend of caution and confidence. Souta followed behind, eyes sweeping over every shadow, ready for the slightest threat. Haruto, quiet and vigilant, scanned the walls and ceiling, instincts whispering of unseen dangers. Emi, ever observant, noted every shift of air, every detail of stone, as if she could anticipate the traps the dungeon might lay.
The cavern itself seemed to breathe around them. A faint breeze slipped through tiny cracks, carrying a chill that made them shiver. At times, the distant roar of water swelled, echoing in a way that felt as though the dungeon itself were watching.
"Stay close…" Itsuki murmured, her voice low yet firm, carrying just enough to be heard without shattering the cavern's sacred silence. "And watch every step. We don't know what might come from the dark."
Her words rang true for them all. In this vast darkness, each movement, each breath, revealed both the fragile beauty of the crystals and the lurking threat of creatures unseen. And yet, despite the fear, they pressed on together. The invisible bond tying them gave them a quiet strength, almost palpable, that let them move forward, one step at a time.
They walked on, deeper into the dungeon, the air growing ever heavier, as if each step drew them closer to some invisible doom. Though the cavern was vast, it pressed around them with suffocating weight.
"Wait…" Itsuki whispered, raising her hand, her eyes fixed ahead.
They all froze. Before them stood a colossal door, carved from a single block of stone, cracked with age. Ancient symbols sprawled across its surface—spirals and runes unreadable, glowing faintly like dying embers. Each mark seemed less carved than etched by an ancient will.
Daiki clenched his fists, excitement flashing where fear had been.
"This must be the exit!" he exclaimed, eyes gleaming with desperate hope.
Hirona, standing back, shook her head slowly. Her voice, low and taut, cut through the momentary optimism.
"Or… it's exactly the opposite."
Silence fell. Breath held.
Riota frowned, eyes fixed on the cracks bleeding a strange reddish glow, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. His fingers trembled against his staff.
"If it's a monster… could I even protect everyone? Am I strong enough…?"
Behind him, Yuki's heart pounded violently against her chest, unease flooding through her body.
"Why… why do I feel this? If we open that door… it'll be the end. Not a fight. Not a chance. Just… the end."
Souta crossed his arms, forcing a crooked smile, as though to smother fear with bravado.
"So… what now? We just stand here?"
Haruto said nothing. His eyes fixed on the door as though it might collapse upon them at any moment.
"If we stay, we don't move forward. And we need to find a way out, don't we?" Emi spoke, her voice trembling despite her attempt at reason.
Already, Itaka, ever bold, pressed his hand against the stone. His audacious grin contrasted sharply with the others' tense faces.
"We'll never know if we don't try."
"Itaka, wait!" Aiko called, but too late.
The stone groaned with a thunderous rumble, each vibration shuddering through the cavern like rolling thunder. The massive door gave way, opening slowly with a guttural wail that clawed at their spines.
A rush of scorching air burst forth, washing over them like a blazing tide. The cavern filled with the stench of sulfur and charred stone.
Inside…
A colossal, scaled beast lay at rest. Each breath rattled the ground, tremors coursing up their legs. Its black scales gleamed with a sinister sheen, like shards of polished onyx. Two immense, twisted horns jutted from its skull—obsidian spires crowning its terrible majesty.
Even in sleep, its aura spread like a suffocating sea, crushing their chests, stealing their breath.
A dragon.
Not merely a dragon… a giant dragon. A living colossus, a creature beyond imagination, whose mere presence silenced the world. Its vast flanks rose and fell like waves of a dark sea, each exhale sending ripples through the air, heavy with raw power.
Two massive horns, black as night and twisted like obsidian spires, towered from its skull, like the pillars of some forgotten temple. Its wings, folded tight against its body, seemed vast enough to shroud an entire fortress in shadow. Even in slumber, its power radiated—a crushing, primal weight that bent knees and choked throats.
Around it, the stone floor lay charred and cracked, seared by its mere presence, as though the chamber itself was nothing but a shrine to its existence. This was no mere beast, no weapon—it was a relic of an ancient age, a titan born of the world's depths, whose true name even legend dared not speak.
A giant dragon.
A living incarnation of the abyss.
Their legs froze. Hearts pounded so loud each feared the sound alone would wake the beast. No one dared breathe. No one dared blink.
"I-it's… impossible…" Riota stammered, his voice breaking with terror.
"We… we have to run…" Itsuki whispered, wide-eyed, her breath ragged.
Yuki trembled, clutching at her robes, unable to tear her gaze from the creature.
"Even asleep… its aura pierces me. It's like… like my bones are breaking beneath its weight. If its eyes open… we're already dead."
They all knew it. No words were needed.
There was only one choice.
Run.