The

  shackles disappeared from their wrists.

  Kvran

  immediately swung at Stark’s

  neck—only for his blade to be blocked once again by an invisible

  barrier.

  “Tch…”

  The knight retracted his weapon.

  Stark

  frowned. “You

  really are scum.”

  Before

  them, a backpack materialized—it was their reward for defeating the

  Twin Guardians.

  Honestly,

  considering the effort they had put in, Stark found the reward pretty

  lackluster.

  He

  walked over and inspected the bag while Kvran peered over his

  shoulder.

  It

  looked like an ordinary leather backpack, but it was extremely

  durable and made of high-quality material.

  “Oh!

  We can use this to store food,” Stark exclaimed.

  So

  the dungeon rewarded them with something to preserve their rations.

  “Pack

  up, then,” Kvran ordered with a frown.

  Stark

  scoffed, slinging the backpack over his shoulders. “You

  expect me to do all the work?”

  “You’re

  useless, you bastard. If I hadn’t taught you, you wouldn’t have

  even been able to defeat those undead.”

  This

  bastard.

  They almost lost because he was just standing there watching the

  fight at the end.

  Stark

  stomped his foot. “If

  I’m packing all this by myself, I’ll be the one managing

  rations.”

  “As

  long as you don’t pull anything, that’s fine,” Kvran waved him

  off.

  “Die,”

  Stark muttered before moving to gather his daggers. Then, he ran off

  to collect supplies.

  After

  a while, he returned with a full backpack slung over his shoulders.

  Turns

  out, the bag had leather skins inside to store water. Stark packed as

  much non-perishable food as he could find. He also came across a few

  extra daggers while scouring the room and strapped them to himself.

  Kvran

  and Stark faced the huge metal door.

  With

  a serious expression, Kvran pushed it open.

  The

  doors groaned as they parted, revealing a dark void ahead.

  One

  by one, lamps flickered to life, illuminating the space beyond.

  The

  revealed pathway was made of stone, similar to the one before, but

  much wider and far more ancient—its surface cracked with age, with

  thick roots jutting out from the grooves of the floor.

  “An

  abandoned passage?” Kvran muttered as he walked. The roots were

  getting thicker as they went deeper inside the passage. The knight

  walked ahead, scouting and keeping an eye ahead.

  Stark

  silently followed behind scanning his surroundings as usual. He was

  figuring out the real reason for this trial. The dungeon referred to

  these as trials so it wanted them to prove themselves.

  But

  Prove what? He had no idea.

  Maybe

  the clues are in the dungeon itself He

  thought.

  Stark

  began to revisit all the moments in the dungeon. An

  isolation illusion trap!! Duel with two undead with similar strength

  to them.

  Time

  passed as they reached an intersection. The path split into 3 new

  paths. Before each pathway was a stone tablet. It was etched with

  some text.

  They

  walked over to take a closer look.

  The

  first tablet read

  [The

  clever crow hoards its secrets in the serpent’s

  shadow, where silence reigns and eyes deceive]

  “Hmm….”

  Stark scratched his head thoughtfully. He strode over to the next

  stone tablet along with Kvran

  Second

  Stone tablet read

  [The

  sky does not weep for the fallen; Where wings are stained crimson,

  the victor’s

  path is paved; it only watches.]

  “Hints

  eh? Crap!!” Kvran cursed as he strode over to the last tablet.

  [Two

  blades cross, but only one is reflected. The Raven’s

  call indicates the end.]

  “Is

  one path the correct one?” Stark thought out aloud.

  “You

  are saying there are traps?”

  “Likely!!

  Don’t you have experience exploring dungeons?” Stark asked with a

  frown.

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  “I

  am a fighter. We have explorer and mappers for these things. It’s

  my first time encountering these types of dungeons.” Kvran sighed.

  Stark

  chuckled. “So

  you are a brainless knight.” He said in a mocking tone.

  “Watch

  your tone, you slave.”

  He

  clicked his tongue in disgust and turned away. “Things

  aside, these proverbs hint at the way to the find the Raven.”

  “So

  which one should we choose.”

  Stark shrugged. “I

  don’t know.”

  “Useless,” Kvran muttered.

  He sat down on the floor while Stark

  scouted the area for any more clues. But apart from the proverbs

  inscribed on the hall’s

  walls, there was nothing else.

  He read them again.

  Despite racking his brain, there was

  still no clear clue as to which path was correct.

  Each proverb mentioned the Raven in

  different forms—one hoarding secrets, another watching over

  battles, and the last calling for the end.

  If

  all paths lead to the Raven, why the distinction? He

  pondered.

  Is it some sort of curse, like the shackles?

  “That would make sense…” he

  muttered to himself.

  Pulling out some stones, he broke them

  into smaller pieces and began tossing them into the different paths

  and against the walls, testing for hidden traps.

  Kvran just stared at him blankly as

  Stark did most of the work.

  But the knight wasn’t

  entirely foolish—he could see it clearly. If he allowed the boy to

  grow any further, it would spell his own inevitable end.

  Kvran had seen individuals like Stark

  before. Talents like his were rare, but they existed—those

  exceptional capital squires from the academy who climbed the ranks to

  become high-ranking Aura Knights in just a few years.

  He had firsthand experience of

  witnessing one such rapid growth.

  There was a case two years ago—a

  squire who had risen through the knight order at an unprecedented

  pace, reaching the rank of High-Ranking Aura Knight in just a single

  year.

  The Grandmaster, Arlen, and the

  Supreme Magus, Frestia, had pressured the king to keep the news under

  wraps.

  That High-Ranking Aura Knight had been

  Kvran’s only childhood

  friend—the very person he had once taught martial arts.

  That

  boy…

  He’s just like him. It’s almost uncanny.

  Kvran sighed. Though,

  this one doesn’t

  seem as talented. Still, being cautious wouldn’t hurt.

  Meanwhile, Stark finished checking the

  entrances for traps. Finding none, he pulled out some dry roots and

  crafted a makeshift torch, using the fire lamps from earlier to light

  it.

  Kvran stood up, dusting off his back.

  "Which pathway? Do you have any

  hints?" he asked.

  "The second one. Let’s

  take that path," Stark said, handing Kvran a torch.

  "Are you sure?" Kvran raised

  a brow. "Is it the right path?"

  "There are no right paths. Every

  path leads to the Raven." Stark adjusted the straps on his

  backpack, securing two extra torches to its side.

  "Let’s

  go."

  Kvran followed silently. He knew the

  boy was better at navigation and solving these kinds of puzzles.

  As they entered the middle pathway,

  the damp soil squelched beneath their boots. The scent of earth was

  thick in the air.

  Stark inspected the surroundings as

  they walked. At the edges of the pathway, he spotted clusters of

  fluorescent herbs. He knew better than to touch them.

  Krul’s

  lesson came back to him:

  the more alluring a plant looks, the more likely it is to be

  poisonous—or worse, a monster. Given their small size, these were

  likely just toxic, not predatory.

  Minutes later, the tunnel opened into

  a vast cavern.

  Fluorescent moss dotted the walls,

  casting an glow over the space. Strange, bulb-like plants pulsed with

  light, growing in dense clusters.

  But the most bizarre sight of all was

  the waterfall.

  Or rather—the

  Scarlet liquid poured down in

  torrents, feeding into a wide, sluggish river that blocked their path

  forward.

  Kvran narrowed his eyes and stepped

  closer to the fall. He sniffed the air. No distinct smell.

  "This liquid..." He

  hesitated. Carefully, he loosened the tip of his leather glove and

  dipped it into the red stream.

  The glove sizzled instantly, curling

  and blackening under the acidic burn.

  "Tch!" Kvran yanked his hand

  back. "It’s not safe."

  Stark

  pointed to the edge of the flowing stream. "Look over there."

  Across

  the red river, a series of stones jutted out, forming what seemed

  like a natural path. Almost like stepping stones.

  It

  felt too convenient.

  They

  walked closer. Despite the gushing liquid, the stones remained

  intact, showing no signs of sizzling or dissolving.

  "It

  feels off," Stark muttered.

  "It

  definitely does," Kvran agreed.

  To

  test it, Stark picked up a loose rock and hurled it at the nearest

  stepping stone.

  The

  stone gave way instantly, sinking into the red liquid without

  resistance. A trap.

  Stark

  turned to Kvran. "Can’t

  you jump across with me?"

  "Huh?"

  Kvran frowned. "You want me to use movement arts to cross?"

  "Yes!"

  Stark said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Kvran

  eyed the river’s

  width. "I can cover about 75% in a single leap—but not the

  rest."

  "Oh,

  then let's do this." Stark crouched, gathering several stones.

  Kvran

  immediately understood. The boy wanted him to leap first while he

  threw stones ahead, triggering any remaining traps before Kvran

  landed. A risky, but effective, plan.

  "Not

  bad," Kvran admitted. "But can you even aim mid-leap?"

  "Even

  if I didn’t.

  I don’t know movement arts! If there are two traps in a row, do you

  think I can jump?" Stark scoffed. "Besides, the proverb

  says I need to be here to complete the trial."

  Kvran

  didn’t

  argue. The logic made sense.

  "Fine,"

  he sighed, grabbing Stark and putting him onto his back. "Ready?"

  Stark

  nodded.

  Kvran

  crouched, power surging in his legs. Then, like a bolt of lightning,

  he launched forward.

  Stark’s

  eyes darted across the path, calculating in an instant. He flung the

  first stone.

  A trap.

  Another

  throw.

  There

  were more traps than expected. But Stark’s

  training with daggers paid off—his aim was sharp, each stone

  striking with precision.

  Then—one

  stone landed and the stepping stone held firm.

  "There!"

  Stark shouted.

  Kvran

  spotted it mid-air. Twisting, he adjusted his landing, barely

  touching down before launching forward again.

  A

  heartbeat later, they skidded to a stop on the other side of the

  river.

  They’d

  made it.

  Kvran let Stark slide off his back.

  Stark adjusted his backpack, somehow

  having wedged the torches inside without burning the fabric. He

  pulled them free to venture deeper into the dungeon.

  As they moved away from the bloodfall,

  the surroundings grew stranger. Fluorescent moss spread across the

  walls, glowing in neon hues. Bizarre, bulbous plants pulsed faintly.

  Then—

  GRRRHHH

  A deep, guttural rumbling echoed

  behind them.

  Kvran and Stark spun around.

  A solid stone wall had risen where the

  entrance had been.

  No way back.

  "What the fuck?" Kvran

  snarled, stepping forward and driving his fist into the stone. A

  solid thud—but

  the wall didn’t even crack.

  His expression darkened.

  Stark raised his torch, scanning their

  surroundings with tense anticipation. His free hand unsheathed his

  sword, ready for the worst.

  Then—text

  materialized before them.

  Scarlet letters dripped

  through the air, as if written in blood.

  [Prove

  your Worth to the Master of the dungeon]

  [Survive

  the Horde]