A dimly lit room.
Silent.
Still.
A single candle flickered weakly in the dark, its flame struggling to stay alive.
At the center of the room—
Pharos sat calmly.
A porcelain teacup rested in his hand as steam curled upward in soft, elegant spirals.
It was a peaceful image.
Far too peaceful for a room like this.
Across from him sat a woman.
Long black hair.
Faded blue eyes.
Skin preserved far too carefully.
She had been dead for a very long time.
And yet her body remained immaculate.
Cleaned.
Maintained.
Posed.
Displayed.
A corpse turned into taxidermy.
Pharos looked at her with something close to affection.
"…Tell me, my dear."
His voice was gentle.
Warm, even.
"Do you know what the mark of a hero is?"
He paused.
As if waiting for an answer.
As if he truly expected one.
Only silence answered him.
Pharos smiled faintly.
"…No?"
He brought the cup to his lips and took a slow sip.
"Is it overwhelming power?"
"Unique magic?"
"Respect?"
"The ability to command armies?"
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
"…No."
"None of those things."
He set the teacup down with delicate care.
Then reached forward and lifted the woman's chin.
"The mark of a hero…"
His fingers brushed her cold skin.
"…is the ability to make the impossible possible."
Her lifeless eyes stared ahead.
Empty.
Unseeing.
"Even in the worst situations…"
Pharos leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"…they overturn fate itself."
A soft breath escaped him.
"This era…"
He tilted his head slightly.
"…No."
A faint smile formed.
"Not just this era."
"The entire history of this world…"
His fingers tightened ever so slightly around her jaw.
"…has existed without a true hero."
"A cycle."
"Endless."
"Repetitive."
"Misery."
He chuckled again.
Quietly.
"…Much of it by my own design."
He leaned in closer.
Almost tender.
"But don't worry…"
His tone softened further.
Disturbingly gentle.
"My dear."
"Your son…"
A faint, pleased smile touched his lips.
"…will be different."
"River will become a hero."
"He will achieve the impossible."
"And when he does…"
His voice became little more than a breath.
"…it will be because I made him that way."
Pharos closed the distance and pressed a kiss against her cold lips.
The candle flickered.
And the room felt just a little darker.
Meanwhile—
The battle on the third floor raged on.
The corridor had become a storm of chaos.
Explosions of light.
Crackling bolts of lightning.
Burning glitter.
Shattered stone.
And through it all—
The Mannequin laughed.
High-pitched.
Childlike.
Wrong.
Alexander pressed forward relentlessly.
His blade surged with lightning, every strike faster and sharper than the last.
But it didn't matter.
The Mannequin danced around him with effortless grace.
Every slash was avoided.
Every attack slipped past empty air.
"…You can call me Bobby."
The Mannequin tilted its head and smiled wider.
"That sweet little brother you met earlier?"
A soft giggle escaped him.
"…That was me."
Alexander's grip tightened around his sword.
"Now come on, mister lion cub…"
Bobby spun lightly across the floor, barefoot steps gliding over the cracked stone.
"…keep playing with me."
Alexander clenched his jaw.
Anger surged up inside him—
But he forced it down.
If he lost himself now, he would lose the fight.
Bobby smiled.
Then his arm began to warp.
Flesh twisted.
Bone bent.
The limb stretched and reshaped itself into a massive sword made of skin and twitching muscle.
He met Alexander's blade head-on.
CLANG.
A perfect parry.
"Don't forget…"
Bobby hummed playfully.
"…this is still dodgeball."
The ground trembled.
Dozens of stone spheres formed around him at once, floating and spinning in the air before launching from every direction.
"Orelia—!" River shouted.
"I see it!"
She reacted instantly.
"Glitter Bomb!"
Bursts of burning glitter detonated midair, destroying several projectiles before they could reach them.
Then, with precise control, she seized one of the surviving stone balls and redirected it.
CRACK.
It slammed directly into Bobby's head.
His porcelain face dented.
Then fractured.
A spiderweb of cracks spread across it.
"…Ow."
Silence followed.
"…That hurt."
The tone in his voice changed.
The playful delight vanished.
Something unstable surfaced beneath it.
"…Getting hurt…"
His voice trembled.
"…isn't fun…"
CRACK.
A piece of porcelain broke off his face and fell to the floor.
Beneath it—
Was flesh.
Wet.
Raw.
Alive.
A bloodshot eye stared out from the gap, twitching wildly.
Worms writhed beneath the exposed surface, crawling through muscle and rot.
The smile remained.
But now it was no longer playful.
It was furious.
Bobby began to wail.
Not with one voice—
But with many.
Children.
Adults.
Men.
Women.
Layered screams of pain and rage twisting together into something inhuman.
River felt his stomach turn.
"I thought you said this would be fun?" he muttered.
Bobby's voice shook.
Then rose.
Then cracked.
"This isn't fun."
"Not fun, not fun, not fun, not fun!"
He stomped like a child throwing a tantrum—
Only this child was a nightmare stitched together from death.
Alexander didn't hesitate.
He charged straight in.
With a roar, he drove his sword into Bobby's stomach.
Lightning exploded through the blade, surging into the monster's body and frying it from the inside out.
"I'm having plenty of fun, you brat!" Alexander shouted.
For a moment, Bobby said nothing.
That lone bloodshot eye stared at him.
Filled with pure hatred.
"No," Bobby said quietly.
Then louder—
"No."
"This is not fun."
He raised a hand.
And flicked Alexander in the forehead.
The force was absurd.
Alexander was launched backward like he weighed nothing, crashing into Hana and sending both of them sprawling across the floor.
Bobby slowly pulled the sword from his own body and dropped it with disgust.
More of the porcelain shell cracked apart.
Pieces fell from him like shattered glass.
"My family was useless," Bobby muttered.
His layered voice warped and deepened.
"You were all supposed to make me happy."
His smile twitched violently.
"But you couldn't even do your jobs."
He snapped his fingers.
The chunks of flesh that had formed his "family" collapsed instantly, melting apart into writhing masses of worms.
The worms rushed across the floor and poured back into Bobby's body.
River nearly gagged.
The shell split wider.
More cracks spread across Bobby's small frame, revealing what lay beneath.
Not flesh.
Not bone.
Only a nest of blood-soaked worms.
Eyeballs rolled and squirmed within the mass, peeking out between the writhing bodies before vanishing again.
"Not fun…"
Bobby muttered.
"Not fun."
Then he vanished.
River's eyes widened.
Too fast.
Bobby appeared directly in front of him.
A hand shot out—
And closed around River's throat.
"Ghk—!"
River was lifted off the ground instantly.
"You promised me fun."
Bobby tilted his head, that broken smile still stretched across his ruined face.
His voice was no longer playful.
It sounded wounded.
Accusing.
"I made things fair…"
His grip tightened.
"But this still isn't fun."
Orelia immediately raised her wand.
Mana surged to its tip.
But Bobby shifted River in front of his own body—
Using him as a shield.
Orelia froze.
If she fired—
She would hit River first.
"You're not having fun?" River choked out.
Even with Bobby's hand crushing his throat—
He smiled.
"Too bad."
A weak, bloody laugh escaped him.
"Maybe dodgeball is just boring."
Bobby's ruined face twitched.
"Then maybe snapping your neck would be fun?"
His grip tightened.
River's vision blurred.
His feet kicked weakly above the ground.
But still—
He smiled.
"Or…"
His voice came out ragged.
"How about one more game?"
A pause.
"This one will be much more fun."
Bobby narrowed that bloodshot eye.
"…Game?"
He tilted his head.
"I don't trust you."
River's fingers tightened around the Onyx January.
"Devour my will…"
His voice trembled under the pressure.
"…push me to the edge of the abyss…"
Blood streamed from his eyes.
"…Selene."
The weapon responded.
A pulse.
Then another.
Water mana surged violently through his body.
"Push out every last drop of mana I have left…"
River's breathing became shallow.
"Even if it leaves me on the verge of death."
Bobby's expression shifted.
Curiosity.
Excitement.
Interest.
River's smile grew sharper.
"This game…"
He coughed blood.
"…is called Death Sentence."
Alexander's eyes widened instantly.
He understood the plan once.
And he hated it.
"…River, you idiot—"
"Death Sentence?" Bobby echoed.
His voice turned eager again.
He leaned in slightly.
"What kind of game is that?"
There had once been a famous adventurer.
A man who wielded both water and lightning.
His signature finishing move was infamous—
A brutal spell that trapped his enemies inside a sphere of water, drowning them while lightning surged through the prison and tore them apart from within.
He had called it—
Death Sentence.
The adventurer himself had later been killed by the Fourth Floor Guardian.
But his combo attack—
Had remained legendary.
River forced his arm upward.
His body was shaking violently now.
His eyes streamed blood.
"Now then…"
Water exploded outward.
"Water Prison."
A massive sphere of water formed around him and Bobby at once—
Swallowing them both whole.
Bobby's eye widened.
For the first time—
Surprise.
River sank within the spinning sphere, barely conscious, his body trembling from mana exhaustion.
Then he turned his head—
Looking through the water.
Directly at Alexander.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Five seconds…"
A thin smile formed.
"That's all I can give you."
His gaze sharpened with absolute trust.
"Show me what you've got…"
"…Roaring Lion Knight."
"Fucking idiot!"
Alexander moved.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
He rushed forward with everything he had left.
"Death Blow!"
He drove his sword forward with both hands, pouring every last ounce of lightning into the tip of the blade as he stabbed straight through Bobby—
And into the Water Prison.
For a single instant—
Everything stopped.
Then lightning exploded through the sphere.
River smiled.
The next moment—
Agony consumed him.
The electricity surged through both him and Bobby without mercy. River's water prison alone would have made the attack devastating—
But Bobby's earth magic had left traces of salt suspended in the sphere.
Salt.
Trapped in the water with them.
Conducting the lightning even further.
Making the attack worse.
Far worse.
Bobby's body convulsed violently.
That bloodshot eye bulged as if he wanted to scream, curse, cry—
Anything.
But he couldn't.
Because he was drowning.
River, barely conscious, forced just enough air into one corner of the sphere to keep himself alive a few seconds longer.
Only a few.
That was all he needed.
"Combo attack…" River choked out, blood spilling from his lips.
"Death Sentence — Electrocution."
His smile was weak.
Broken.
"Let's see… which of us… lasts longer, you bastard…"
The water prison trembled.
Five seconds.
That was all River could hold.
Then—
The sphere collapsed.
Water crashed across the corridor.
River's body hit the ground hard, charred and trembling, barely held together.
A few feet away—
Bobby collapsed too.
The mannequin shell was shattered.
The flesh beneath it blackened.
Smoking.
Barely alive.
Alexander didn't waste a single heartbeat.
He rushed in.
There was no time to check on River.
No time to hesitate.
His hand tore into the Floor Guardian's ruined body—
And ripped out the core.
The moment it was removed—
Bobby went still.
Completely.
Silence filled the corridor.
Heavy.
Absolute.
The Third Floor Guardian—
The Mourning Family—
Had been slain.