The Right Path was not a road to paradise. It was a long, winding throat of grey stone, smelling of stagnant water and old rust.
The floor was uneven, paved not with tiles, but with the crushed remnants of those who came before. Femurs, ribs, and shattered skulls littered the edges of the walkway like grim confetti.
"Watch your step," Kael sneered, lifting his polished boot over a ribcage. "Disgusting. The sanitation in this dungeon is appalling."
"Focus, Kael," Cresty commanded from the front. She wasn't using a map; she was tracking. She pointed to the scratch marks on the walls and the disturbed dust on the floor.
"Look at the density of the remains," Cresty noted, her voice clinical. "Dozens of parties came this way. That proves this is the main route. That brute and his blacksmith went down a ventilation shaft. We are on the King's Road."
"The King's Road seems paved with dead peasants," Journ rumbled from the back.
The giant warrior stepped on a skull. It crunched like dry parchment. He didn't look at it. His small, dark eyes were fixed on the shadows ahead.
"They died for a reason," Journ added.
"Because they were weak," Kael scoffed, tapping his tower shield. "They were C-Ranks. D-Ranks. Dreamers with rusty swords. We are not them. You have a veteran of the Iron Vanguard, and..." he gestured gallantly to Cresty, "an operative of the Emperor's Eye. We do not trip over skeletons."
As if the dungeon heard his arrogance, the shadows detached themselves from the walls.
CLACK. CLACK.
The bones on the floor began to vibrate.
From the alcoves ahead, three figures stepped out. They weren't mindless zombies. They were tall, wearing rotted tabards over rusted chainmail. Their eyes burned with a cold, blue soul-fire.
[Skeleton Knights][Level: 13]
"Contact!" Cresty shouted, sliding backward to gain distance. "Frontal assault!"
"With pleasure," Kael grinned.
He didn't wait for them to charge. He slammed his sword against his tower shield.
"[Taunt: Lion's Roar]!"
A ripple of golden sound blasted outward. The three Skeleton Knights snapped their heads toward him, their aggression instantly locked onto the Blonde Knight. They raised their jagged rusted swords and charged.
"Standard formation!" Cresty barked. She drew her bow, holding it horizontally. She didn't aim for the head; she aimed for the joints.
Thwip-Thwip.
Two arrows flew in rapid succession. They struck the lead Skeleton's knees with pinpoint accuracy. The bone shattered, and the undead knight collapsed forward, its momentum turning into a clumsy slide.
Kael met it.
"[Shield Bash]!"
He stepped in and slammed the rim of his shield into the falling skeleton's skull. The blue fire in its eyes winked out instantly as the skull disintegrated.
The second Skeleton swung a heavy overhead chop. Kael caught it on his shield. CLANG. He didn't budge an inch. His stance was perfect, rooted like an old tree.
"Journ! Clean up!" Kael shouted.
Journ was already moving.
For a man carrying an axe that weighed as much as a person, he moved with terrifying silence. He stepped past Kael, his massive shadow engulfing the remaining two skeletons.
"[Cleave]."
It wasn't a shout; it was a statement.
He swung the greataxe horizontally. The blade whistled through the air, cutting through the damp atmosphere.
It struck the two standing Skeletons at the waist. There was no resistance. Chainmail, spine, and ribs were sheared in half. The upper torsos of the undead knights spun through the air, landing with a clatter ten feet away.
Silence returned to the corridor.
"Efficient," Kael said, flicking a speck of bone dust off his pauldron. "Barely used any stamina."
"Don't celebrate yet," Cresty said, walking past the remains without glancing down. "These were gatekeepers. It means the prize is close. The Emperor's Eye records state this area houses a substantial treasury."
They pressed on.
The tunnel began to widen. The air grew heavier, carrying a metallic scent that made their teeth ache. The number of bones on the floor increased until they were walking on a carpet of calcium.
"We're here," Cresty whispered.
The corridor ended, opening into a massive, circular chamber.
It was a cavern of death and desire.
The ceiling was high, lost in darkness, but the floor was illuminated by a single spotlight of natural light filtering down from a crack miles above.
And in that light stood the Golden Gate.
It was a massive set of double doors, easily fifty feet tall, embedded into the rock wall. It was plated in gold and obsidian, shimmering with an allure that promised infinite wealth behind it.
But in front of the gate lay the real story.
Piles of treasure. Gold coins, jewel-encrusted swords, chalices overflowing with gems. It was a dragon's hoard scattered carelessly on the floor.
And mixed in with the gold were the adventurers.
Hundreds of them.
Skeletons in rusted armor. Mages clutching rotted staffs. They were piled up against the gate, their bony hands scratching at the golden surface.
"By the Gods," Kael breathed, his greed warring with his disgust. "The rumors were true. The lost treasury."
"Look at the gear," Cresty noted, her eyes scanning the piles. "That staff... that's Blue-grade. That sword is Steel-Alloy. These weren't novices. They were veterans."
"And they died scratching at the door," Journ rumbled. He walked to the edge of the room but didn't enter the circle of light. "Why?"
"Because they couldn't open it," Kael scoffed, walking forward. "They probably starved to death trying to pick the lock. Or they fought each other for the loot."
Kael stepped onto the gold pile. Coins clinked under his boots. He reached out to touch the massive Golden Gate.
"But we have the Guide," Kael smiled, looking back at Cresty. "Cresty, if you would do the honors?"
Cresty stepped forward, checking her interface. "According to the Guild archives, this gate requires a specific Aether signature to unlock. It shouldn't be trapped."
Kael nodded and placed his hand on the door to push it. "Then allow me."
He pushed.
The gate didn't budge.
Instead, a low, grinding sound echoed through the cavern.
Grrrrrrr.
It sounded like a stomach growling.
Cresty hesitated. She looked at the cooldown timer in her vision. It had just hit zero.
"Wait," she said sharply. "Kael, step back. My [Alert] is ready again."
"You're wasting a cooldown on a door?" Kael sighed, keeping his hand on the gold plating. "We might need that for the Boss inside."
"I said wait!" Cresty snapped.
She activated the skill.
[Alert]
A pulse of sensory magic washed over the room. Normally, it would highlight traps in red or enemies in yellow.
This time, her entire vision turned Black.
It wasn't a warning. It was a scream. The skill didn't just ping; it violently recoiled, flooding her mind with a sense of predatory malice so intense it nearly buckled her knees.
"IT'S NOT A DOOR!" Cresty shrieked, her voice cracking. "KAEL! MOVE!"
Kael blinked, confused by her sudden panic. "What—?"
The obsidian panels on the door shifted. They didn't slide open to reveal a hallway. They slid open to reveal wet, pink flesh.
A giant eye—bloodshot and vertical—snapped open in the center of the left door.
Then, the "crack" between the two doors opened.
It wasn't a gap. It was a mouth. Rows of jagged, golden teeth gnashed together. A massive, purple tongue slithered out, tasting the air near Kael's face.
[The Mimic Gate][Level: 23]
"It's not a vault," Journ whispered, gripping his axe.
The piles of gold on the floor began to churn. The coins weren't loose; they were attached to sticky tendrils. The "floor" rippled.
"The whole room," Cresty realized, her face draining of color. "It's a stomach."
The Mimic Gate roared, a sound of grinding metal and hungry wetness.
The purple tongue lashed out like a whip.
BAM.
It struck Kael's shield with the force of a battering ram. The Knight was launched backward, tumbling over the piles of bones and gold.
"Formation!" Journ yelled, stepping forward to cover the retreat.
But as they turned to run back to the tunnel, a heavy iron grate slammed down over the entrance.
CLANG.
They were trapped.
The Gate laughed—a deep, metallic rumble that shook the cavern.
"Well," Kael wheezed, standing up and spitting blood. "I suppose we found the reception committee."
"Less talking," Journ growled, his eyes narrowing at the massive door-monster. "More killing."