The throne room now lay in a heavy silence, broken only by the labored breathing of Fenrir. The massive wolf, with his glowing eyes, kept a vigilant watch over his companions. Sera, Zayzal, and Marcus lay unconscious around him, their bodies battered and bruised from the fierce combat with Attila.
Fenrir's ears twitched at every small sound, his senses on high alert. Despite his own fatigue, his loyalty to his companions drove him to stand guard, ensuring their safety in their vulnerable state.
Hours passed, and the shadows in the room shifted from the flickering torchlights. The tension in Fenrir's body never waned as he remained alert.
Gradually, as the stillness of the room persisted, Fenrir's vigilance began to take its toll. His eyes drooped slightly, but he shook his head, refusing to succumb to sleep. He let out a low, tired growl, almost as if scolding himself for his momentary weakness.
As the silence stretched on, a faint groan broke the silence. Zayzal began to stir, his brow furrowed in pain. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing as he tried to sit up. His movements were sluggish, every muscle in his body screaming in protest.
He glanced around, taking in the scene - the lifeless body of Attila, the remnants of the spectral horse, and his companions lying motionless. "What... happened?" he muttered to himself, trying to piece together the aftermath of their battle.
After a few moments, he understood that they had won the battle, and he released a deep, pent-up breath he didn’t even know he had.
Sera was the next to show signs of waking. She coughed, a sharp pain shooting through her chest. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Zayzal's concerned gaze. "...Z-Zayzal?" she whispered hoarsely.
"Yeah, it's me," Zayzal replied softly. "You took a bad hit, but you're alive."
Sera tried to nod, but the movement sent a wave of pain through her head. She closed her eyes briefly, gathering her strength. "The others...?"
"They're here. Rest now. We're safe for the moment," Zayzal reassured her, though his own uncertainty was evident.
Marcus heard the voices and slowly awoke as well. He opened his eyes, feeling a dull ache all over his body. He saw Fenrir's concerned eyes looking down at him and managed a weak smile. "Hey, buddy," he whispered.
Fenrir responded with a soft whine, his tail wagging slowly.
As the group regained consciousness, they took stock of their injuries. Sera's breathing was labored and shallow. She had bruises all over her body and a horrible pain in her stomach. Her arms also ached as if they were about to fall off at any moment, but she made sure not to let out a single sound. She didn’t want the others to worry about her.
Zayzal's shoulder wound hadn’t stopped bleeding, but it was much slower. Though, the pain was still intense. Marcus, though less severely injured, felt every bruise and cut that littered his body.
"We need to get out of here," Marcus said, his voice strained. "We can't stay in this dungeon any longer."
Zayzal nodded in agreement. "We'll need to move slowly. Sera's in no condition to walk."
"N-Not before we collect our loot," Sera interjected stubbornly, though her pale face betrayed her words.
Zayzal gave her a weak smile but nodded. That much was a given. He didn’t put in all this work to get nothing out of it.
Marcus looked around the room, his eyes landing on the remnants of the fight. "What about... him?" he asked, nodding towards Attila's withered corpse.
“He’s dead. Don’t worry about him.” Zayzal said while waving his hand dismissively. However, his eyes caught sight of a shiny sword next to Attila’s remains. “But… we can take his sword and armor with us.”
“...” Marcus wasn’t sure what to think of that, looting a dead body. But, remembering how much trouble that sword was, he couldn’t help but nod his head in agreement.
The trio sat there in silence, just enjoying the peace, before Zayzal noticed something peculiar where Attila's throne once stood. A small, shimmering pool of water had formed, its surface glinting with mana. "That wasn't there before," he murmured, eyeing it curiously.
Sera and Marcus looked at where Zayzal was staring and realized they had missed that too. The throne was actually replaced by a pool of water!
“Can you get up and check it out, Marcus?” Zayzal asked. Inwardly, he figured it was one of their rewards, but it could be something dangerous. This dungeon has thrown too many things at them that it could be anything at this point.
Marcus nodded and stood up first, leaving Fenrir to rest. He approached the pool cautiously, his daggers raised. Creeping toward the edge, he dipped his hand in and instantly felt a soothing sensation wash over his wounds.
"Whoa..." Marcus gasped in amazement. The pain that had racked his body began to fade. Excited, he stripped off most of his clothes and jumped into the water. Immediately, he felt the water enter his body through his words and found them healing at an expedited rate.
A few minutes later, Marcus sensed that his wounds had stopped healing and climbed out of the pool, feeling rejuvenated and in perfect condition. He turned to Zayzal and gave a wide smile, "This thing is amazing!"
“How so?” Zayzal asked, now sitting up and leaning against the wall.
“In just a few minutes, it’s healed all of my wounds!”
“...!”
Zayzal and Sera’s eyes widened before they looked at each other and grinned.
“...You go first,” Sera said. “I can wait, but I don’t know if you’ll last much longer with that arrow stuck in your shoulder.”
Zayzal wanted to say something against that, as Sera had definitely taken more damage throughout the fight, but she wasn’t wrong. He was bleeding out as they spoke, and the longer he waited to get treatment, the worse it’d be.
Nodding, he looked at Marcus, who understood what he wanted.
Walking over to him, Marcus struggled to help Zayzal up. With one arm wrapped underneath Zayzal’s arm, Marcus supported him to the pool.
Not even bothering to strip, Zayzal glanced at his injured shoulder and clicked his tongue. ‘Tsk. I’m going to have to remove this thing before I jump in, aren’t I?’
Grimacing, he took a deep breath before he jammed his thumb into the wound and pushed the broken arrow out of his shoulder. Grunting in pain, he fell face-first into the water and let its magic envelop him.
The water flooded his body through the wound in his shoulder, mending and restoring everything back to normal. However, he noticed a weird fluctuation happen after about half of his injuries were healed.
‘Is my Adaptability… reacting to the healing water?’ He thought. His cells were buzzing with life, working to take in and adapt to the new energy as soon as possible. But what he found odd was that instead of reducing the efficacy, the speed at which he regenerated seemed to speed up.
‘Well, this is an unlikely but welcome boon.’ He smiled and relaxed, allowing the pool to work its magic.
Sera, still lying on the ground, watched them with a weak smile.
After around 15 minutes, Zayzal climbed out of the pool in peak condition and walked over to Sera. With the help of Marcus, they helped her to the edge.
She hesitated for a moment, then jumped in and allowed herself to be submerged in the healing waters. Her bruises and internal injuries began to heal, bringing relief to her battered body. It felt so nice that she almost fell asleep again.
Sera was in the water for the longest amount of time, nearly half an hour, before she was back to perfect health. Fenrir also took a dip, but he only took a few minutes.
After they were all done, the ground beneath them trembled, and the pool sunk into the stone, disappearing from their sight. Replacing it was Attila’s throne that was there before, startling them.
“We won’t have to fight him again, will we?” Marcus hesitantly asked, slowly backing away from the throne. Zayzal and Sera didn’t answer, but they, too, had grabbed their weapons just in case.
“...I don’t think so,” Zayzal said, but uncertainty was evident in his voice. “Let’s just look for the rest of our loot and get out of here.
With their bodies now healed and rejuvenated, the trio approached the end of the throne room, where a giant treasure chest had appeared. The chest was old yet ornate, with gemstones all over it. A unique aura seemed to emanate from it, making the group eager to see what was inside.
Marcus approached the chest first, with Sera backing him up. "Let's see what's inside," he said, his hand hovering over the latch.
With a collective breath held, they opened the chest. Sera held her shield out and prepared a shoddy barrier just in case something popped out, but after a few minutes, nothing happened. Releasing a deep sigh, they looked at each other and chuckled.
“This dungeon’s going to give me PTSD,” Marcus muttered, and Zayzal couldn’t help but agree.
“Enough of that. Hurry up and open it.” Sera urged, snapping Marcus out of his thoughts. He nodded and pushed open the rest of the chest. As it creaked open, a piece of parchment rested atop the various treasures, catching their immediate attention.
"Looks like this might tell us what's inside," Marcus said, picking up the parchment. His eyes scanned the ancient script, and he began to read aloud, "In recognition of your valor and strength, the spirits of this land bestow upon you gifts of the ancients."
Zayzal leaned in, curious. "What sort of gifts?"
Marcus continued, "First, the Crown of Árpád, a symbol of leadership and unity. It grants its wearer the power of understanding and speaking any language."
Reaching into the chest, Zayzal pulled out a regal circlet of intertwined gold and silver studded with gemstones. "This must be it," he said, holding it up to the dim light. The crown seemed to radiate a warm, inviting glow.
Sera, still feeling the effects of her recent injuries, smiled weakly. "That could come in handy. What else does it say?"
"The Tome of Táltos," Marcus continued, pulling out an aged leather-bound book. "It contains the shamanistic secrets of the Táltos, offering insight into mana manipulation and spiritual connections."
Marcus then read, "The Aegis of Magyar, a protective amulet that shields its bearer from evil, imbues them with clarity of mind, and can even grant occasional insights. It can also flood the user with a surge of mana in times of need."
Sera reached for the heart-shaped amulet, feeling its warm radiance. "This feels... comforting," she murmured, a sense of calm washing over her.
Marcus concluded, "And finally, the Scroll of Endless Horizons, a guide to uncharted lands and pathways unknown."
He unrolled a scroll that seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with shifting maps and constellations. The three of them stared at the scroll, but none of it made any sense, nor did they know how to use it.
Sera and Marcus looked at Zayzal, who could only smile wryly and activate his [Pathfinder] talent.
‘Ugh.’ Zayzal grunted in pain and immediately stopped pumping mana into his eyes as his brain was overloaded with information.
“You okay?” Sera walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked.
“...Yeah. It’s just… I think this treasure might be a bit out of our league for now.” Zayzal muttered cryptically, but the two weren’t worried about it.
“Alright.” Sera nodded and backed off. “Well, this is more than enough. Maybe when you’re stronger, we can find out what this scroll does.”
Zayzal slowly nodded, but his mind couldn’t help but drift back to the scroll, trying to figure out what he saw. Attempting to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, he changed the subject. “Anyways… For loot distribution, I’m thinking I'll take the Crown of Árpád and Scroll of Endless Horizons. Sera takes the Aegis of Magyar. While Marcus has the Tome of Táltos and Attila’s sword.”
“But-!” Marcus interjected, but Zayzal stopped him.
“I know what you’re about to say, and yes, I believe I could make better use of the sword, but right now, you aren’t all that strong. But, with that sword, you’d be much more powerful in fights and wouldn’t have to just sit back and watch. I’m already satisfied with what I have.”
What could Marcus say to that?
“...Okay. I’ll take them.” He replied, slowly walking over to Attila’s corpse and taking his sword and armor.
Meanwhile, Zayzal took the bow and collected all the arrows. Surprisingly, they were all in relatively good condition.
‘This’ll be useful.’ Zayzal thought, looking at the bow and quiver full of arrows. Putting them on his back, he chuckled, realizing just how many weapons he was carrying—a spear, dagger, short-sword, shield, and now a bow.
‘I really am becoming an all-rounder.’ Not that he thought that was bad. It’s just, part of him wished he had the destructive power of Sera or the elemental abilities of Kaldrik. Instead, he was some sort of versatile leader who wasn’t particularly extraordinary at anything.
‘Whatever.’ He shrugged as he finished collecting all the loot. ‘It’s working so far, and as long as I have good teammates to back me up, there shouldn’t be anything we can’t overcome.’
It took another few minutes for everyone to finish packing up all the loot, but once their bags were full, they wanted nothing more than to leave this dungeon.
“Everyone ready?” Zayzal asked, to which everyone nodded. “Then, let’s go!”
Walking toward an opening on the other side of the room, opposite where they entered, they left the dungeon, which unknowingly and silently disappeared from behind them as they made their way through the exit.
The throne room now lay in a heavy silence, broken only by the labored breathing of Fenrir. The massive wolf, with his glowing eyes, kept a vigilant watch over his companions. Sera, Zayzal, and Marcus lay unconscious around him, their bodies battered and bruised from the fierce combat with Attila.
Fenrir's ears twitched at every small sound, his senses on high alert. Despite his own fatigue, his loyalty to his companions drove him to stand guard, ensuring their safety in their vulnerable state.
Hours passed, and the shadows in the room shifted from the flickering torchlights. The tension in Fenrir's body never waned as he remained alert.
Gradually, as the stillness of the room persisted, Fenrir's vigilance began to take its toll. His eyes drooped slightly, but he shook his head, refusing to succumb to sleep. He let out a low, tired growl, almost as if scolding himself for his momentary weakness.
As the silence stretched on, a faint groan broke the silence. Zayzal began to stir, his brow furrowed in pain. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing as he tried to sit up. His movements were sluggish, every muscle in his body screaming in protest.
He glanced around, taking in the scene - the lifeless body of Attila, the remnants of the spectral horse, and his companions lying motionless. "What... happened?" he muttered to himself, trying to piece together the aftermath of their battle.
After a few moments, he understood that they had won the battle, and he released a deep, pent-up breath he didn’t even know he had.
Sera was the next to show signs of waking. She coughed, a sharp pain shooting through her chest. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Zayzal's concerned gaze. "...Z-Zayzal?" she whispered hoarsely.
"Yeah, it's me," Zayzal replied softly. "You took a bad hit, but you're alive."
Sera tried to nod, but the movement sent a wave of pain through her head. She closed her eyes briefly, gathering her strength. "The others...?"
"They're here. Rest now. We're safe for the moment," Zayzal reassured her, though his own uncertainty was evident.
Marcus heard the voices and slowly awoke as well. He opened his eyes, feeling a dull ache all over his body. He saw Fenrir's concerned eyes looking down at him and managed a weak smile. "Hey, buddy," he whispered.
Fenrir responded with a soft whine, his tail wagging slowly.
As the group regained consciousness, they took stock of their injuries. Sera's breathing was labored and shallow. She had bruises all over her body and a horrible pain in her stomach. Her arms also ached as if they were about to fall off at any moment, but she made sure not to let out a single sound. She didn’t want the others to worry about her.
Zayzal's shoulder wound hadn’t stopped bleeding, but it was much slower. Though, the pain was still intense. Marcus, though less severely injured, felt every bruise and cut that littered his body.
"We need to get out of here," Marcus said, his voice strained. "We can't stay in this dungeon any longer."
Zayzal nodded in agreement. "We'll need to move slowly. Sera's in no condition to walk."
"N-Not before we collect our loot," Sera interjected stubbornly, though her pale face betrayed her words.
Zayzal gave her a weak smile but nodded. That much was a given. He didn’t put in all this work to get nothing out of it.
Marcus looked around the room, his eyes landing on the remnants of the fight. "What about... him?" he asked, nodding towards Attila's withered corpse.
“He’s dead. Don’t worry about him.” Zayzal said while waving his hand dismissively. However, his eyes caught sight of a shiny sword next to Attila’s remains. “But… we can take his sword and armor with us.”
“...” Marcus wasn’t sure what to think of that, looting a dead body. But, remembering how much trouble that sword was, he couldn’t help but nod his head in agreement.
The trio sat there in silence, just enjoying the peace, before Zayzal noticed something peculiar where Attila's throne once stood. A small, shimmering pool of water had formed, its surface glinting with mana. "That wasn't there before," he murmured, eyeing it curiously.
Sera and Marcus looked at where Zayzal was staring and realized they had missed that too. The throne was actually replaced by a pool of water!
“Can you get up and check it out, Marcus?” Zayzal asked. Inwardly, he figured it was one of their rewards, but it could be something dangerous. This dungeon has thrown too many things at them that it could be anything at this point.
Marcus nodded and stood up first, leaving Fenrir to rest. He approached the pool cautiously, his daggers raised. Creeping toward the edge, he dipped his hand in and instantly felt a soothing sensation wash over his wounds.
"Whoa..." Marcus gasped in amazement. The pain that had racked his body began to fade. Excited, he stripped off most of his clothes and jumped into the water. Immediately, he felt the water enter his body through his words and found them healing at an expedited rate.
A few minutes later, Marcus sensed that his wounds had stopped healing and climbed out of the pool, feeling rejuvenated and in perfect condition. He turned to Zayzal and gave a wide smile, "This thing is amazing!"
“How so?” Zayzal asked, now sitting up and leaning against the wall.
“In just a few minutes, it’s healed all of my wounds!”
“...!”
Zayzal and Sera’s eyes widened before they looked at each other and grinned.
“...You go first,” Sera said. “I can wait, but I don’t know if you’ll last much longer with that arrow stuck in your shoulder.”
Zayzal wanted to say something against that, as Sera had definitely taken more damage throughout the fight, but she wasn’t wrong. He was bleeding out as they spoke, and the longer he waited to get treatment, the worse it’d be.
Nodding, he looked at Marcus, who understood what he wanted.
Walking over to him, Marcus struggled to help Zayzal up. With one arm wrapped underneath Zayzal’s arm, Marcus supported him to the pool.
Not even bothering to strip, Zayzal glanced at his injured shoulder and clicked his tongue. ‘Tsk. I’m going to have to remove this thing before I jump in, aren’t I?’
Grimacing, he took a deep breath before he jammed his thumb into the wound and pushed the broken arrow out of his shoulder. Grunting in pain, he fell face-first into the water and let its magic envelop him.
The water flooded his body through the wound in his shoulder, mending and restoring everything back to normal. However, he noticed a weird fluctuation happen after about half of his injuries were healed.
‘Is my Adaptability… reacting to the healing water?’ He thought. His cells were buzzing with life, working to take in and adapt to the new energy as soon as possible. But what he found odd was that instead of reducing the efficacy, the speed at which he regenerated seemed to speed up.
‘Well, this is an unlikely but welcome boon.’ He smiled and relaxed, allowing the pool to work its magic.
Sera, still lying on the ground, watched them with a weak smile.
After around 15 minutes, Zayzal climbed out of the pool in peak condition and walked over to Sera. With the help of Marcus, they helped her to the edge.
She hesitated for a moment, then jumped in and allowed herself to be submerged in the healing waters. Her bruises and internal injuries began to heal, bringing relief to her battered body. It felt so nice that she almost fell asleep again.
Sera was in the water for the longest amount of time, nearly half an hour, before she was back to perfect health. Fenrir also took a dip, but he only took a few minutes.
After they were all done, the ground beneath them trembled, and the pool sunk into the stone, disappearing from their sight. Replacing it was Attila’s throne that was there before, startling them.
“We won’t have to fight him again, will we?” Marcus hesitantly asked, slowly backing away from the throne. Zayzal and Sera didn’t answer, but they, too, had grabbed their weapons just in case.
“...I don’t think so,” Zayzal said, but uncertainty was evident in his voice. “Let’s just look for the rest of our loot and get out of here.
With their bodies now healed and rejuvenated, the trio approached the end of the throne room, where a giant treasure chest had appeared. The chest was old yet ornate, with gemstones all over it. A unique aura seemed to emanate from it, making the group eager to see what was inside.
Marcus approached the chest first, with Sera backing him up. "Let's see what's inside," he said, his hand hovering over the latch.
With a collective breath held, they opened the chest. Sera held her shield out and prepared a shoddy barrier just in case something popped out, but after a few minutes, nothing happened. Releasing a deep sigh, they looked at each other and chuckled.
“This dungeon’s going to give me PTSD,” Marcus muttered, and Zayzal couldn’t help but agree.
“Enough of that. Hurry up and open it.” Sera urged, snapping Marcus out of his thoughts. He nodded and pushed open the rest of the chest. As it creaked open, a piece of parchment rested atop the various treasures, catching their immediate attention.
"Looks like this might tell us what's inside," Marcus said, picking up the parchment. His eyes scanned the ancient script, and he began to read aloud, "In recognition of your valor and strength, the spirits of this land bestow upon you gifts of the ancients."
Zayzal leaned in, curious. "What sort of gifts?"
Marcus continued, "First, the Crown of Árpád, a symbol of leadership and unity. It grants its wearer the power of understanding and speaking any language."
Reaching into the chest, Zayzal pulled out a regal circlet of intertwined gold and silver studded with gemstones. "This must be it," he said, holding it up to the dim light. The crown seemed to radiate a warm, inviting glow.
Sera, still feeling the effects of her recent injuries, smiled weakly. "That could come in handy. What else does it say?"
"The Tome of Táltos," Marcus continued, pulling out an aged leather-bound book. "It contains the shamanistic secrets of the Táltos, offering insight into mana manipulation and spiritual connections."
Marcus then read, "The Aegis of Magyar, a protective amulet that shields its bearer from evil, imbues them with clarity of mind, and can even grant occasional insights. It can also flood the user with a surge of mana in times of need."
Sera reached for the heart-shaped amulet, feeling its warm radiance. "This feels... comforting," she murmured, a sense of calm washing over her.
Marcus concluded, "And finally, the Scroll of Endless Horizons, a guide to uncharted lands and pathways unknown."
He unrolled a scroll that seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with shifting maps and constellations. The three of them stared at the scroll, but none of it made any sense, nor did they know how to use it.
Sera and Marcus looked at Zayzal, who could only smile wryly and activate his [Pathfinder] talent.
‘Ugh.’ Zayzal grunted in pain and immediately stopped pumping mana into his eyes as his brain was overloaded with information.
“You okay?” Sera walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked.
“...Yeah. It’s just… I think this treasure might be a bit out of our league for now.” Zayzal muttered cryptically, but the two weren’t worried about it.
“Alright.” Sera nodded and backed off. “Well, this is more than enough. Maybe when you’re stronger, we can find out what this scroll does.”
Zayzal slowly nodded, but his mind couldn’t help but drift back to the scroll, trying to figure out what he saw. Attempting to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, he changed the subject. “Anyways… For loot distribution, I’m thinking I'll take the Crown of Árpád and Scroll of Endless Horizons. Sera takes the Aegis of Magyar. While Marcus has the Tome of Táltos and Attila’s sword.”
“But-!” Marcus interjected, but Zayzal stopped him.
“I know what you’re about to say, and yes, I believe I could make better use of the sword, but right now, you aren’t all that strong. But, with that sword, you’d be much more powerful in fights and wouldn’t have to just sit back and watch. I’m already satisfied with what I have.”
What could Marcus say to that?
“...Okay. I’ll take them.” He replied, slowly walking over to Attila’s corpse and taking his sword and armor.
Meanwhile, Zayzal took the bow and collected all the arrows. Surprisingly, they were all in relatively good condition.
‘This’ll be useful.’ Zayzal thought, looking at the bow and quiver full of arrows. Putting them on his back, he chuckled, realizing just how many weapons he was carrying—a spear, dagger, short-sword, shield, and now a bow.
‘I really am becoming an all-rounder.’ Not that he thought that was bad. It’s just, part of him wished he had the destructive power of Sera or the elemental abilities of Kaldrik. Instead, he was some sort of versatile leader who wasn’t particularly extraordinary at anything.
‘Whatever.’ He shrugged as he finished collecting all the loot. ‘It’s working so far, and as long as I have good teammates to back me up, there shouldn’t be anything we can’t overcome.’
It took another few minutes for everyone to finish packing up all the loot, but once their bags were full, they wanted nothing more than to leave this dungeon.
“Everyone ready?” Zayzal asked, to which everyone nodded. “Then, let’s go!”
Walking toward an opening on the other side of the room, opposite where they entered, they left the dungeon, which unknowingly and silently disappeared from behind them as they made their way through the exit.
