I've been in dungeons before. Many of them. Some ancient, others abandoned, others filled with monsters too stupid to understand their own territory. But none of them made me stop at the entrance and seriously consider whether turning back wouldn't be the smartest choice.
The air down there was different.
Not cold like ordinary ice, but dense. Heavy. As if every breath had to pass through an invisible layer of something that didn't want to be disturbed. The dungeon entrance opened in the middle of a fractured valley, with rocks covered by a thin layer of bluish ice that didn't melt, even under direct sunlight.
I felt the flame react before I even took the first step.
It didn't explode. It didn't stir. It simply… became alert. Compressed. Like an animal that knows it has entered another predator's territory.
"So this is it," I said, more to myself than to the others.
Vespera spun an arrow between her fingers, restless. "I don't like it when you say that with that look on your face."
"Elara?" I asked.
She took a deep breath. "My mana is already unstable. It's not fear. It's like something is draining it before we even go in."
Liriel closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. "The light here… is weak. Not in a physical sense. It's as if it's being suppressed."
Great. A dungeon that hates light, consumes mana, and makes my flame fall silent. Exactly what we needed.
Behind us, other groups were organizing. Experienced adventurers, some I recognized from the guild, others clearly from outside. In the middle of them, impossible to ignore, was Aerendyl.
The SS-class elf stared at the dungeon entrance like someone facing a complex mathematical problem. Calm. Focused. Unsettlingly serene. When he noticed my gaze, he gave a slight nod.
"Takumi," he said, approaching. "From here on, everything changes."
"I know."
"No," he replied. "You feel it. But you don't know."
That bothered me more than any direct threat.
The signal to advance was given shortly after. We descended.
The first part of the dungeon looked deceptively simple. A wide corridor, dark stone walls reinforced with ancient metal structures. No moss. No random inscriptions. This wasn't an abandoned place. It was maintained.
"This isn't a natural dungeon," I murmured.
Aerendyl agreed. "Wide corridors. Strategic angles. Lines of sight. This was built to move troops."
The deeper we went, the more the cold intensified. Not a cold that froze the skin, but one that seeped into the bones, into the thoughts. The silence was so absolute that the sound of boots echoed far too loudly.
That was when we heard the first sign.
Footsteps.
Not erratic. Not rushed. Rhythmic.
"Contact ahead," someone whispered.
The creatures emerged from the shadows as if they had already been waiting. Ice demons, armor partially fused to their bodies, hollow eyes glowing pale blue. They didn't advance immediately. They simply stood there, blocking the path.
"Formation," I ordered.
The fight began quickly—and ended too quickly.
They fought well. Covered flanks. Fell back when pressured. No useless roars. No desperate attacks. This wasn't a hunt. It was a patrol.
"That confirms it," Vespera said, panting after missing two arrows in a row and nearly hitting Elara. "Someone's commanding all of this."
I didn't answer. Because I already knew who.
We pushed deeper.
The further down we went, the more signs appeared. Improvised barracks. Organized weapons. Communication runes. And the worst part: recent signs of battle. Dried blood. Broken equipment.
We found survivors shortly after. Three adventurers hiding behind a collapsed wall. One of them was silently crying. Another stared into nothingness.
"He saw us," one of them murmured when I approached. "We didn't even get close to his chamber… and he saw us."
"Who?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.
"The General."
The flame inside me contracted.
Aerendyl knelt before them. "You did well to survive. Now leave."
They didn't argue.
We moved on.
The pressure increased with every step. Not just physical. Mental. It was as if the dungeon itself were measuring us, judging who was worth allowing to advance.
And then, without warning, I felt it.
Not a voice.
A presence.
Distant. Vast. Cold.
Something down below moved.
I stopped walking.
"Takumi?" Elara called.
"He knows we're here," I said.
The silence answered.
And in that moment, I understood.
This descent wasn't the beginning of the battle.
It was simply the moment when the Sixth General decided to truly observe us.
And I was absolutely certain of one thing:
We still weren't ready.