A man in knight's garb — pieced of gold metal and strips of black fabric — burst through overarching doors into a compound that was reminiscent of war; men and women adorned in posh, medieval-style armaments hurried around a square room constructed of clay brick.

  In the center of the room stretched a long, wooden table. More men and women sat sprawled around the table; many of whom hurriedly scribbled upon scrolls whilst stealing glances around the room.

  All around the walls of the room, maps and routes littered the space. Depicted across the maps, arrows directed to and fro’ — and atop each arrow sat distinct emblems.

  One emblem triumphed above all the others in the compound, however; the emblem of the five-pointed-crown. The crown was golden with black gems adorned beneath each of its spires and, behind the crown, the emblem’s background bled scarlet.

  “Minister!” The knight who burst into the compound rushed towards a man who stood beyond the ruckus.

  The Minister turned towards the knight, revealing his face: blonde and steel-eyed, sharp featured, short hair with a thin nose. He was aged, but not gray; not yet.

  “Minister! I present a letter from Duke Moor of the Kingdoms!” The knight bowed and stuck his arms forward with scroll in-hand.

  The Minister unfurled the scroll.

  “Duke Moor?” The Minister’s deep voice reverberated through the box-like compound.

  His steely-emerald eyes razed through the Duke’s letter; at its end, the Minister’s eyebrows rose.

  “Shipwrecked?” He muttered.

  “Oxford — dispatch a regiment of the Scout’s to the North-Eastern border, to the monoliths. Duke Moor’s son appears to be shipwrecked there; attempt to rescue him, but more importantly, discover his father’s intentions; and report back to me by month’s end.”

  A knight posted along the compound’s walls stepped forward. He saluted the Minister and departed without a word.

  Still in the compound, the Minister gestured for one of the scholars beside the center table to approach.

  “What do you make of this?” The Minister’s voice bellowed into the scholar’s ears.

  The scholar read the Duke’s letter.

  “It certainly is odd.” The scholar adjusted his glasses.

  “The Duke wants to drive us North-East, but why? There’s nothing of value along that coast.”

  “Could it be a trap?” The Minister asked.

  “A trap?” The scholar thought for a moment, “No. Duke Moor is undergoing a succession. The last thing he’d want is war.”

  “Then why send us there? The Kingdoms have ships too. Do they not?” The Minister sneered.

  “Perhaps we’re meant to discover something?” The scholar theorized. “And if not — we can still demand compensation for our troubles.”

  The Minister didn’t reply. Instead, his sharp, emerald eyes returned to the central map depicted behind him. There, the entire continent of the West lay sprawled; with the Empire’s grasp domineering over half of its breadth.

  In the top right corner of the map, rocky spires spread along the coast; it was the tip of the Western continent, where the coral erupted from the sea like the mountains above them.

  A difficult place to navigate to in the sea and an even further distance from the Empire’s nearest city. By carriage, the Minister gandered it would take over a month of travel to arrive.

  That was why he had sent the Scouts; they were fast, after all.

  They traveled light; the Empire’s reconnaissance division.

  With them, they could reach the shores in two weeks.

  Now, all the Minister had to do was wait.

  ***

  Erin watched the two ships anchor along his shores, but it’s what happened next that left him utterly baffled.

  The man who had entered his dungeon prior, Kuzo — from what Erin had gathered whilst eavesdropping — split the two ships in half; literally.

  He unsheathed his blade, his broadsword, then held it in the air above him. He muttered something to himself, a chant, an incantation, one-or-the-other; then his sword magnified.

  The steel stretched into the air, longer and taller than the width of the two ships.

  Kuzo’s arm struck down in a rapid burst of speed. Like an execution, his sword severed the two ships.

  It took only a few minutes for the ships to sink into the sea where the unruly tide ravaged their form and picked them apart — piece by piece — until no more than loose planks and torn cloth remained.

  Like the first galleon, any trace of the two ships would be gone by dusk.

  By nightfall, the group of twenty men and three women made camp. They set up tents around the lagoon, brought firewood from the oak forest behind, and were proven successful fishermen as they had quickly caught enough to eat their fill that night.

  During this process, Erin watched closely.

  He meticulously took note of the details provided by the camp: the seasonings used, the tents, the craftsmanship of the blankets, pillows, slippers, etc.

  For this excursion, the women proved more than helpful; they carried makeup, lotions and pastes, and tools unfamiliar to Erin’s fictitious eyes.

  In addition to mundane stalking, Erin also discovered a rare piece of intellect amongst the campers; a grimoire.

  A book of magic.

  Of spells.

  Of the properties of mana and whatnot.

  The grimoire was, unfortunately, very basic.

  An Introduction to the Process of Molding Flame. Erin read.

  A beginners guide to fire magic, in other words: Fire 101.

  Although not strictly useful, as conjuring flame did not prove difficult for Erin, the grimoire did provide Erin with a rough understanding of what society had unearthed about mana.

  Or their interpretation of it, at the very least.

  And from what Erin could glean…

  It’s useless. He remarked.

  Nothing but hodgepodge; details that described the process of mana and how it interacted with the human body — with the human’s core — and with the mana veins their core provided. A piece of the puzzle that Erin simply did not utilize: mana veins.

  As such, the grimoires of man proved useless for Erin. They were but a manipulation of mana beneath what Erin could accomplish with his own will.

  On the second day of the camper’s self-made-abandonment, Kuzo led a small group up the mountain to the dungeon's entrance.

  Kuzo brought along Bram, the fourth born, and three other men.

  They stopped just shy of Erin’s entrance, where the manacorns used to be presented. Kuzo made note of the change before the party of five delved into the dungeon’s depths.

  They followed Kuzo’s lead and rushed through the seemingly untouched cavern that led to the Acorn Halls’ first corridor.

  As they approached, they heard the grunts and sniffles of the beasts ahead.

  Kuzo shot his arm out and the party halted.

  He removed a mirror from his breast pocket and gently pushed it into the dungeon’s corridor, in order to glean at the occupants further within.

  Four Bat-Apes patrolled the illustrious, acorn-themed hallway. They pandered around the corridor with their heads just shy of waist-level.

  Their behemoth arms protruded out of them and, as they lurched around, their knuckles scraped across the acorn engravings embedded into the floor.

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  Kuzo pointed at Bram.

  The fourth born son turned the corner. He shook his fist as if he held dice.

  “Shaped Wind: Cluster Bomb.”

  Just as Bram recited the spell, three orbs of wind appeared in his balled fist.

  He threw the orbs forward.

  The first orb hit the ground-

  *BOOM*

  It exploded into three more-

  *BOOM*

  That exploded into three more.

  Small holes littered the dungeon hall. The ceiling dripped blood.

  The Bat-Ape’s form was razed and hollow.

  Tiny holes penetrated every inch of their black flesh and from each hole a stream of thick blood oozed onto the floor and into its crevices.

  Kuzo and the rest stepped into the hallway.

  One of the Bat-Apes twitched, but before a second could successfully pass — Kuzo’s sword beheaded the beast.

  Then, he flicked the blood off of his blade.

  “There should be a fountain up ahead.” Kuzo said.

  He took a step forward.

  *clink*

  The acorn-tile sank an inch into the floor.

  In the next second, a barrage of arrows exploded from the corridor’s walls.

  “Shaped Wind: Revolving Dome!” Bram shouted.

  He slapped his open palms together and, from his enclosed hands, a burst of wind spiraled outward.

  The wind ruffled Bram’s cloak as it expanded around him.

  It took shape, thickened, then exploded.

  The arrows all but reflected off of the wind. They ricocheted around the corridor and slammed into the stone tile, but not before claiming one victim.

  One of the men, large, burly — he carried an ax and a wide shield — an arrow cut into the back of his hamstring.

  He kneeled onto the ground; his ligaments torn.

  He leaned into his ax as he tried to lift his large body, but to no success; blood continued to pool around him.

  “Nobody move!” Kuzo shouted.

  But to no avail.

  Another man — short and hairy, pot bellied and pig-nosed — ran to his brother’s aid. He stormed across the corridor.

  *clink*

  His foot sank into the tile.

  Another volley of arrows burst from the walls.

  “Shit!” Bram dropped to the floor.

  Kuzo followed.

  An arrow slammed into the ear of the kneeling giant; his body hit the ground shortly thereafter.

  Another arrow pierced the neck of his foolish brother; his body lunged forward from his momentum and slammed into the ground — his neck snapped backwards.

  Two men dead.

  Three alive.

  The third man crept along the edge of the wall; his thin frame worked in his favor as he hugged the mosaics and miraculously escaped the kiss of the arrowheads.

  “You said there were no traps!” The man shouted.

  “I said remain vigilant too!” Kuzo fired back.

  “Now follow me.” Kuzo readied his sword.

  With his blade’s edge, Kuzo gently tapped the surface of each tile. When a tile moved ajar — it was a trap. Simple.

  Quickly thereafter, they exited the corridor and stumbled upon the open hall with a fountain in its center.

  In the two rooms adjacent, Bat-Apes flooded out.

  More than ten of the beasts rushed towards the group of three.

  Kuzo held his sword. Bram incanted a spell, and the third man steadied his crossbow.

  Kuzo dashed ahead. With his blade held low, he swiped skyward in a beautiful arc. The arc burned brilliant — a reflection left in its wake.

  Kuzo slipped through the Bat-Ape’s heavy claws; he narrowly dodged their ruthless attacks and took advantage of every glaring opportunity the beasts provided him.

  Kuzo’s sword blurred. It severed an arm, a leg, nails, ears, heads.

  Blood dripped from his sword's edge.

  Meanwhile, Bram conjured the winds.

  “Shaped Wind: Vacuum Sphere!”

  An orb of wind lifted off of Bram’s fingertips. The orb was large — it barely fit within Bram’s palm.

  Bram rocketed the Vacuum Sphere across the room. It tore through the chest of one Bat-Ape, eviscerating its insides — mincing its flesh into paste — then exploded upon the form of another beast.

  Mangled body parts ricocheted thereafter.

  Blood splattered along the columns and seeped into the fountain.

  The third man fired an arrow. Then, he charged ahead with his dual daggers in-hand; he grappled one Bat-Ape, pinned it to the ground, and succinctly slit its throat.

  Saddled atop the beast, he reversed his grip on his dagger — he held the blade’s tip — then flung the blade across the room where it then slid into the carotid artery of the last standing beast.

  *thud*

  The Bat-Ape’s body hit the tile.

  *tick*

  *tick*

  In the silence that followed the slaughter, a faint tick repeated alongside a smell that reminisced of rotten eggs.

  *tick*

  “Get to the fountain!!” Kuzo yelled.

  Then.

  *BOOM*

  Fire erupted throughout the Acorn Halls. An implosion of gasoline, a sonic wave shook the columns and sloshed the adventurers' organs.

  Kuzo had made it to the fountain; his body sank beneath its water.

  Bram too; he propelled himself across the hall with a gust of wind and crashed into the fountain.

  The third man, however; he burned ablaze.

  “AAAHHHH!!” His screams echoed throughout the halls.

  Fire clung to his flesh. His clothes burned. His hair readily turned to ash.

  “HELP MEEEE!!!!”

  His vocal chords melted. They drooped along the floor, no more than mush, all while blood clogged his esophagus and fire ate at his eyes.

  …

  Minutes passed as the embers burned and the flames flickered off of his remains. In the meantime, Kuzo and Bram held their breaths underwater.

  After a hundred counts, they breached the surface and returned to the air.

  The air was thick with smoke and a nasty odor. Burnt carbon scratched at their nostrils and the rotten smell of singed hair tugged at their gag reflexes.

  “What the FUCK was that?!!” Bram exploded.

  He splashed the water around; he kicked and screamed.

  Kuzo, meanwhile, wiped the water from his face.

  “An ignition trap…” Kuzo muttered, “but what set it off?”

  His brown eyes scanned the Acorn Halls. He saw the charred corpses of the Bat-Apes, their flesh molded in bark. What he didn’t see, though, was a mechanism.

  Some way to activate the ignition trap.

  Kuzo and Bram dragged their wet self’s out of the fountain. As puddles dripped onto the floor, they discussed their circumstance.

  “The Floor Boss is just down this corridor.” Kuzo said.

  “A goliath squirrel attuned to the shadows. Be careful of the acorn embedded in the ceiling, it’s his weapon.” Kuzo noted.

  Bram, on the other hand, spent some time fixing his white hair. He squeezed out the liquid from his coat and dumped the water out of his boots.

  “What rank were those three?” Bram asked.

  “The men?” Kuzo replied. “Gold. They’re the most readily available along the ports.”

  Bram looked at the charred human corpse on the ground; then, at the Bat-Apes around.

  “The Gold’s didn’t stand a chance… I thought Hyzen’s report said this dungeon was C-rank.” Bram said.

  “The Guild refused his previous B-rank recommendation; according to their requirements, a dungeon’s inhabitants must exhibit mana-enhanced capabilities to qualify for B-rank.” Kuzo said.

  “What?!!!” Bram shouted, again.

  “But the fire trap-”

  “Didn’t use mana.” Kuzo interrupted.

  He pointed towards his nose.

  “What?” Bram complained.

  “You can smell it you fool!” Kuzo barked.

  “The dungeon used gasoline, but…”

  “Where the fuck did it learn about gasoline?!!” Bram shouted once more for good measure.

  “Would you shut up!!” Kuzo fired back.

  “Let’s fell the Boss quickly and inspect the second floor’s entrance — we’ll return thereafter.” Said Kuzo.

  “And hopefully bring along someone more useful next time…” Bram said under his breath as he eyed the corpses of embers beneath him.

  ***

  At the end of the day, Kuzo slayed Smoky; skewered him, actually.

  By the time Smoky’s heartbeat quit its drum, Kuzo discovered the podium and the manacorn.

  *click*

  Something unlocked from beyond the dungeon’s walls. Then, the metal bars rose into the ceiling.

  A stairway revealed itself; it descended in a spiral.

  For more than ten minutes, Kuzo and Bram walked in circles — in the dark.

  Bram fell, twice.

  At the end of the staircase, turquoise light welcomed them. They were spit out into an enclave with algae blooming all around — from the ceiling above to the underside of the cliffs beyond.

  From the hanging stalactites, water dribbled onto the floor. It grew a small stream; one that led out of the enclave and off of the cliff — into the void.

  The algae, meanwhile, barely lit their surroundings. Kuzo and Bram could see the floor beneath them, as that was where the algae grew, but the walls and their surroundings — the colors were unaware.

  The world was shrouded in darkness: colorless and absent.

  Kuzo led. He stepped out from the light and into the dark. He followed the stream of water out of the enclave.

  The path before him, however, never expanded.

  It remained a single, thin pathway.

  Two shoulders’ in width, the area was narrow.

  To the left, the floor retreated entirely; it disappeared underneath the guise of shadow, a pit potentially bottomless.

  Kuzo looked left and then right, but walls marred his vision.

  All he could see was the luminous algae behind him and the limitless fall beside him.

  Kuzo took another step into the dark, but then froze.

  From the corner of his eye, Kuzo saw something move.

  A figure in the dark.

  A shadow reincarnate.

  Kuzo drew his sword. As the blade slid from its sheath, a crisp ‘shing’ accompanied it.

  The subtle glow of the algae reflected off of the silver; Kuzo’s sword burned teal.

  He steadied his breath and narrowed his eye.

  Now! Kuzo swung.

  His sword snapped across the air and slammed against the ground, but before it did so, it split a wrist in two.

  A Bat-Ape that clung to the underside of the cliff reached overhead.

  Kuzo’s sword was too swift; however.

  His blade intercepted the Bat-Ape’s meaty wrist.

  “REEEEE!!” The Bat-Ape howled.

  Its severed arm retreated over the cliff — into the void — and out of sight.

  A puddle of blood laid on the path, the only remnants of the beast’s existence.

  After that, the duo retreated to the surface.

  And Erin began to make more changes.