Aeron POV
It was the day of the dungeon run.
Aeron had not wasted the days leading up to it. He had spent the rest of the week training, then gone down into the city over the weekend to prepare.
There had only been one setback.
'I wonder where that dwarf went.'
He had wanted to use the Soulforge Testament to glimpse his destined weapon, but the blacksmith had vanished without a trace.
'Xavier met him later in the story. So perhaps he was elsewhere for now.'
Still, Aeron felt ready.
His fingers turned the black-and-gold-rimmed ring on his right middle finger. A quiet metallic scrape followed the motion.
His voice was little more than a murmur in the silence of his room.
"Alright. Let's begin."
.
He took his usual seat in the classroom.
Aeron's gaze drifted across the main cast.
Xavier's group had grown. Ruth, Seth, and Catheryn now stood with him.
'So the story is still moving as it should.'
At exactly nine, Eliza entered.
The room changed with her.
It was not anything visible. Not really. But the air seemed to grow heavier, as though something unseen had settled across their shoulders. Conversations died almost at once.
Every eye turned to her.
"Today," she said, "you will be entering a dungeon."
A ripple ran through the class. Excitement. Unease. Curiosity.
It ended the moment Eliza looked at them.
"It is a newly promoted C-rank dungeon. Most of you have already stepped into D-rank dungeons. For students of this class, a C-rank dungeon should fall within your capabilities."
Should.
The word lingered.
"It is not a test," she continued, "but I will be assessing how each of you respond to an unfamiliar environment."
Her gaze moved across the room, cold and precise.
"Clear?"
A few stiff nods answered her.
"You will all enter the same dungeon, but you will arrive at different points. That is simply the nature of this one. Your objective is to clear it. After the faculty reviews the footage, credits will be distributed based on participation. The dungeon core belongs to the academy. Any monster materials or rare herbs you obtain may be sold at your discretion."
That changed the atmosphere at once.
Eyes sharpened. Backs straightened. Greed flared beside ambition as alliances, profits, and opportunities began to take shape in their minds.
'They have no idea what's waiting for them.'
Aeron glanced toward Xavier.
There was no fear there. Only focus. Determination.
'Protagonist energy.'
"There will be a live status feed sent to the faculty," Eliza said. "If any of you are judged to be in genuine danger, B-ranks stationed outside will enter immediately."
A few students visibly relaxed.
Others did not.
In this world, safety was never a promise. Only a delay.
Eliza's eyes hardened.
"I suggest you set aside your differences and cooperate."
She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was flatter than before.
"We do not award points to corpses."
This time, no one moved.
The excitement bled from the room all at once, leaving something colder behind.
Because now it was real.
This was not training.
Not really.
And everyone in the room understood the same thing at once.
Death would be entering the dungeon with them.
"We will be leaving after this class."
As soon as Eliza said it, the classroom door slid open.
Every head turned.
A boy stood there with messy light-green hair, as though he had only just crawled out of bed. A slightly burnt blanket was draped over him, hiding most of his body and leaving only his half-lidded purple-green eyes visible.
Eliza muttered under her breath, though everyone still heard it.
"I wasn't sure he would actually show up."
No one laughed.
What should have been a ridiculous sight was met instead with tense shoulders and shallow breathing. The class had felt it before, more than once in recent days.
That feeling again.
Weakness.
In his presence, even the Top Ten no longer felt untouchable.
Kyle, usually so nonchalant, glanced over.
For the first time, his expression changed.
He frowned.
Not in irritation.
In warning.
The look of someone who had recognised danger.
Xavier watched with quiet curiosity.
Even Luke, ever full of pride, had gone tense.
'Looks like he has some idea who this is.'
The boy waddled into the room like a penguin and slowly looked around, as though searching for something.
"There will be a new student joining us today," Eliza said. "His name is Iori Vane."
Watches lit up across the room. Messages flew back and forth.
No results.
Aeron froze.
He had prepared for the dungeon. He had prepared for the story. He had prepared for variables.
But not this.
'What is he doing here?!'
He dragged both hands through his hair, then dropped his forehead onto the desk.
'I need to keep him away from the storyline. I have no idea what he'll do to it.'
It felt almost deliberate.
As though some greater force had decided his life was still too manageable.
Then Iori's eyes found him.
They widened slightly.
Then drooped again.
Aeron immediately shook his head hard enough for the meaning to be obvious.
Don't come here.
Iori seemed to understand.
A small rift opened beside him.
He stepped into it, blanket and all, then emerged from another above an empty seat near the back of the classroom before dropping into it without a word.
Several students stiffened.
A space user willing to step through his own portals so casually was unheard of.
But Iori had done it as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Xavier, seated just in front of him, turned around to greet him.
Completely unaware of how absurd this situation really was.
He came from an ordinary family. There was no reason he would know.
With a bright smile, he held out his hand.
"My name is Xavier. It's a pleasure to meet you, Iori."
Their eyes met.
Azure blue against purple-green haze.
Aeron tensed.
'Will his trait, Approachable, work on him?'
Iori slumped forward onto the desk and ignored the hand entirely.
'Apparently not.'
Xavier's smile twitched.
His hand remained suspended there for half a second too long before he slowly pulled it back.
Scarlett grinned.
"Damn. I like this guy already."
Strangely, Luke said nothing.
His eyes remained fixed on Iori.
No doubt he had at least some idea who he was.
Aeron exhaled slowly.
He knew this was his fault.
This was the change.
The variable.
The distortion in the story that Aeron Araxys had caused.
Now that he had finally learned to speak telepathically, he reached out to Iori.
'Why are you here?'
'Food.'
Aeron's expression did not change but he gave a small nod as if it was reasonable.
'Why did you come to class?'
'Dungeon.'
'Yes, but why? Can't you just skip it?'
No reply.
Only a half-shrug beneath the blanket.
Aeron stared at him for a moment before trying again.
'At least tone down your presence.'
Iori did.
The oppressive pressure in the room eased almost at once, and several students visibly relaxed without understanding why.
'Are you going solo?'
'No. I'm following you.'
Something tightened in Aeron's chest at that.
Hope, quiet and sudden, before he could stop it.
'Why?'
This time, even in his own mind, his voice came out softer.
Iori gave the smallest shrug.
'We are food buddies.'
Aeron smiled.
He had no idea how stupid he looked.
Then his eyes met Eliza's.
And Lyra's.
One had a delicately raised brow.
The other had narrowed eyes sharp enough to cut.
His smile vanished instantly, and he turned away to look back at Iori.
Still slumped over his desk, Iori gave another lazy half-shrug.
.
.
They left the academy grounds and travelled far beyond the reach of any nearby settlement.
By the time they arrived, the world around them had grown unnaturally quiet.
Then Aeron saw it.
'There it is.'
The portal stood alone in the emptiness, its blue light swirling, enticing them to step in.
It looked hungry.
One by one, students stepped through.
With each disappearance, the tension around those remaining thickened. No one spoke loudly anymore. Even the usual arrogance had dulled beneath the weight of what waited beyond that glow.
Aeron watched them go in silence.
Then, beside him, a black rift split open without warning.
Iori stepped out of it.
The blanket was still wrapped around him, though his eyes were more open now, the purple-green haze within them sharper than before.
At Aeron's request, he had pulled his presence down until it nearly matched Aeron's own faint one.
Nearly.
They were the last two left outside.
Eliza stood beside the portal, its shifting light casting pale blue across her face. Her eyes rested on Aeron a moment too long.
"After this," she said, "meet me in the staff room."
Aeron looked at her.
For a brief moment, the silence around them seemed to deepen.
'You won't have time for that after this.'
And then he stepped forward.
Into the blue.
.
.
Xavier POV
The world twisted around him.
Xavier's hand was already on the hilt of his sword before the distortion had fully settled. His body stayed taut, every muscle prepared for an attack the moment his footing became real.
He pushed his senses outward to their furthest reach.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No breathing. No movement.
Only darkness.
His eyes found nothing within it. The ground beneath him was hard, uneven, and almost warped beneath his boots. He did not move.
Not yet.
'Should I...?'
Mana flowed down his arm.
Using light in an unknown dungeon was reckless. It announced his position, stripped away the advantage of surprise, and could draw anything lurking nearby.
But wandering blind would be worse.
A pulse of white flared from his hand.
Pure light flooded outward.
And the dungeon revealed itself.
Xavier stood atop a massive root.
It was so thick it could have passed for the trunk of an ancient tree, its surface gnarled and ridged beneath his feet. More roots coiled and twisted around it, layering over and under one another like the remains of some colossal thing buried beneath the earth. They stretched into the dark in every direction, forming crooked paths, jagged bridges, and narrow hollows between them.
For a moment, Xavier said nothing.
'Am I underground... or inside something?'
The roots surrounded him completely.
They crossed each other so densely in certain places that the darkness between them appeared less like a shadow and more like a solid object.
The space was open enough to move through.
But only just.
Everything about it felt tight.
Encroaching.
Wrong.
And above all else—
'Dead.'
Whatever this place had once been, it had withered long ago and simply refused to collapse.
Xavier drew his sword and struck the nearest root.
The blade bit in with a dry crack.
No sap.
No resistance beyond age-hardened wood.
Just dead timber split open in the dark.
.
He had no idea where to go.
Yet his trait, Destined One, pulled at him faintly, urging him forward—deeper, toward where the roots twisted more tightly together.
Then he heard it.
A shout.
A cry for help.
Xavier moved at once, boots striking hard against the dead wood as he ran deeper into the darkness. Still, he kept one hand on his sword and his senses stretched wide.
A dungeon was not a place for trust.
It could have been a trap. An illusion. A lure.
The cry came again, sharper this time.
"Help!"
Xavier slowed as he neared it.
Then he saw the source.
A vulture.
Large enough that its hunched body reached nearly to his chest, it stood perched upon a crooked root with unnatural stillness. Its feathers were mottled with brown, but not by earth or blood. Wood had crept into them, as though each plume had been dipped in bark and left to harden there. Its long pink throat was wrong too—thin roots curled around it in tightening loops, twitching faintly whenever it moved.
Its eyes were pitch black.
No glint. No life. Just two polished voids fixed on him.
The creature tilted its head.
Then its beak opened.
"Help!" it croaked.
The voice was shrill and broken, too human in shape and far too clear for a beast.
It did not attack.
It only stood there, watching him.
Then it spoke again.
"Help."
Xavier's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.
From beyond the edge of his light, another voice answered.
"Help."
This one was higher. Thinner. No less croaking.
Then came another.
And another.
One became two. Two became four. Four became eight.
The cries rose from every direction, each one warped into a slightly different pitch, as though a chorus of dying voices had learned only a single word.
Xavier felt their stares before he saw them.
From the dark between the roots. From above. From somewhere deeper ahead.
Slowly, he drew his sword.
The blade slipped free with a clear metallic ring that cut through the false cries for half a heartbeat.
'Playing numbers?'
Light burst from his body.
It peeled away from him in human shape, gathering into a second Xavier made entirely of white radiance. A sword of pure light formed in its grasp.
Then a third appeared.
Then a fourth.
Mana left him in a sharp drop, enough for him to feel the strain at once, but his reserves were already beginning to recover.
Xavier glanced at the three luminous copies beside him and licked his lips.
"Fine," he muttered.
"Let's see whose numbers run out first."
Xavier lunged at the one in front of him.
His sword flashed toward its neck, but the roots embedded through its body reacted at once, writhing outward to catch the blade.
He twisted sharply and turned the strike into a spin.
A crescent of light tore free from his sword.
It sliced through the vulture cleanly.
The creature split in two and crashed onto the root below.
Xavier's eyes narrowed.
Like its feathers, its insides had been overtaken by wood. Veins, flesh, even its organs looked as though bark had grown through them, hardening what should have been living tissue into something halfway between beast and tree.
There was no blood but he barely had time to register it.
The root beneath the corpse shifted.
Xavier sprang back at once.
Thin branches burst from the wood and coiled around the two halves, binding them tight. He watched in silence as the remains were dragged downward, the root opening just enough to swallow them whole before sealing shut again.
As if the dungeon had taken back what belonged to it.
The clones returned soon after, their forms dimming slightly as they regrouped around Xavier. The vultures had been dealt with easily.
Too easily.
Xavier's eyes narrowed.
This dungeon was strange.
'We need to finish this quickly.'
Then he felt it.
Something coiled around his ankle.
He looked down.
Two branches had wrapped themselves tightly around his leg.
His clones lunged toward him, but they were too late.
The root beneath him split open.
And Xavier was swallowed whole.
He gritted his teeth as darkness closed around him. Wood scraped against his clothes while he was dragged through some kind of tunnel.
Wherever it was taking him, it was doing so with purpose.
Xavier slashed downward. Arcs of light burst from his blade and struck the enclosing root, but this time they only carved chips and shallow grooves into the wood.
No more than scratches.
Then, without warning, the force around him loosened.
The root spat him out.
Xavier wrapped his body in a thin layer of light a heartbeat before impact and crashed hard into bark.
The shock ran through his bones, but nothing broke.
He pushed himself upright immediately.
'What does this dungeon want?''Where is everyone else?'
The floor beneath him trembled.
Xavier turned just as another figure shot through the dark.
He stepped aside.
The newcomer slammed into the bark wall with a heavy thud.
A low, irritated voice came from within.
"Why am I always getting thrown around?"
Xavier blinked.
Luke stepped away from the wall, rolling one shoulder as though the impact had only offended him.
His eyes landed on Xavier.
"Luke," Xavier said at once. "What happened?"
Luke gave a short nod, as if approving of Xavier's seriousness.
"I saw only darkness when I entered, so I activated my trait. Then I heard someone shouting for help. It turned out to be one of those vulture things. After I killed them, the dungeon threw me here."
Xavier's expression hardened.
"So it happened to you too."
Luke frowned. "Is this normal?"
"The professor said our objective was to clear the dungeon," Xavier said. "Which means there should be a boss somewhere deeper in. But those vultures..." He glanced into the darkness. "They felt too weak. E-rank at best. Definitely not C-rank."
Luke folded his arms.
"Then why separate us only to drag us back together?"
That was the real question.
Xavier raised one hand and conjured a sphere of light. It shot forward into the dark, illuminating twisted roots, ridged bark, and hollow gaps winding deeper into the dungeon.
Nothing else.
Only roots.
Only dark.
Xavier stared into it, his unease sharpening.
Then he spoke.
"I think..."
He paused.
"It's waiting for something."
The floor trembled again.
This time, a figure was hurled from a split in the roots above. She twisted mid-air and landed in a crouch, one hand braced against the wood.
Scarlett looked up immediately.
"Well," she said, brushing bark dust from her sleeve, "this is getting annoying."
Before Xavier could speak, the roots shuddered once more.
Another body came flying through the dark.
Then another.
Ruth landed hard and slid across the bark, while Catheryn struck the ground with far less grace and let out a sharp curse beneath her breath.
Luke's expression darkened.
Xavier said nothing.
He was watching the pattern.
Again, the roots trembled.
Again, someone was thrown into the chamber.
Seth.
Then Angelina.
Then Lyra, who landed lightly despite the force behind her and straightened at once, her eyes already scanning everything around them with cold focus.
The air grew heavier with every arrival.
Not safer.
Heavier.
The roots around the chamber seemed to shift more frequently now, as though responding to their presence.
Then Kyle arrived.
Unlike the others, he landed on his feet almost immediately, sliding back only a short distance before stopping himself. His gaze swept across the gathered students, taking in the scene in a single glance.
One by one, figures were hurled from tunnels, spat from openings in the bark, or dropped through gaps in the woven wood above. Some landed cleanly. Others cursed as they hit the ground and scrambled back to their feet.
With each arrival, Xavier's expression grew more serious.
This was no coincidence.
The dungeon was gathering them.
By the time the tremors ceased, students filled the chamber in scattered groups, weapons drawn, eyes wary, breaths uneven.
Xavier's gaze swept across them all.
He counted quickly.
Forty-nine.
Out of fifty-one.
His eyes narrowed.
One absence was obvious.
'Iori.'
That much was easy.
No one could forget a presence like his.
Strangely, Xavier found that he was not worried. After what he had felt in the classroom, concern seemed futile. If Iori Vane was not here, then it was hard to imagine the dungeon had forced that outcome on him.
If anything, the opposite felt more likely.
Then Xavier's gaze shifted again.
There was one more missing.
His brows drew together.
He had made a point of introducing himself to everyone in class.
Or at least, he had thought he had.
So why could he not immediately place the last one?
For the briefest moment, irritation touched his thoughts.
'Who did I miss—?'
The chamber lurched.
The entire floor of roots shuddered beneath them.
Several students stumbled. Others snapped their heads upward.
A deep sound rolled through the dark.
Xavier's hand tightened around his sword.
The thought vanished at once.
Whatever the dungeon had been waiting for—
it had finished gathering them.