The suffocating aura gradually dissipated as Volhcard moved deeper into the building, allowing the others to finally catch their breath.
Yuni coughed, still feeling the remnants of its weight in her chest.
"What the hell is that dwarf so pissed about?!" she growled, shaking off the lingering pressure as she pushed herself up.
Aralia, unfazed, split her greataxe into two before securing them at her sides, while Sticky retracted his tentacles, their previous bladed edges morphing back into their usual gelatinous form.
"This is his home kingdom, Yuni." Aralia pointed out, her tone measured yet firm, "Of course, he's furious about what's happening here."
Yuni snapped her head toward her, a pissed-off grin stretching across her face.
Then—without warning—she shoved Aralia aside and stalked forward, deeper into the building.
Aralia exhaled sharply but didn't retaliate. Instead, she turned to Sticky, who let out a low, gurgling noise—his way of saying, "Let her be for now."
The two followed suit, trailing behind Yuni as Aralia took in the architecture, paintings, and surroundings around them.
Each piece was more magnificent than the rest, a testament to the dwarves' pride in their craftsmanship and strength.
"Very... masculine." Aralia mused, stopping in front of a naked dwarf status wielding two hotdogs as swords.
Dwarves were not only know for their artistry but also for their love of insatiable love for food—to the point that they had once gone to war over it.
A conflict now infamously recorded in history as the Worst Dwarven War.
"I never realized dwarves had so many events tied to the creation of important weapons," Aralia remarked, glancing at Sticky, who hopped beside her.
The green slime let out a soft gurgle, translating to, "Well, Vyolmir is known for its engineering and magic rather than weaponry. That title goes to Thylmar, another dwarven-gnomish country. But unlike Vyolmir, Thylmar priotizes combat over religion and knowledge."
Aralia nodded, absorbing the information as she and Sticky finally caught up to Yuni—who had just sliced another black skeleton clean in half.
"Duck, Yuni!" Aralia shouted.
Without hesitation, Yuni dropped low, allowing Aralia to leap over her and swing both war axes in a deadly arc—decapitating two incoming skeletons in one fluid motion.
"Looks like these ones go down easy," Yuni muttered, rising to her feet. "But we should still be cautious."
Sticky gurgled in agreement before sprouting multiple tentacles—snagging one of the skeletal warriors and hurling it straight towards another group.
They had entered what seemed to be a massive living room—its furniture sized for dwarves, yet now occupied by an unnerving horde of towering skeletons, each standing at seven feet tall.
Crash!
The thrown skeleton collided into the horde, toppling several in the process.
Seizing the opportunity, Yumi nocked a burning arrow and let it fly—
Fwoom!
The projectile struck its mark, igniting the mass of undead in a wave of searing flames.
Sticky lifted the charred skeleton corpses, spinning them rapidly before hurling them into another group of undead.
One managed to latch onto Aralia's shoulders, its bony fingers tightening around her neck—but she didn't hesitate. With a grunt, she slammed the back of her head into its jaw, shattering it before swinging her war axe and cleaving its skull clean off.
"They just keep coming!" Yuni growled through gritted teeth, swiftly sweeping the legs out from under two skeletons. Despite their close proximity, she fired two arrows—only for both to miss.
Sticky, ever observant, sliced through the fallen skeletons with their bladed tentacles and let out a gurgle.
"You're a terrible shot."
"Now now!" Yumi snapped, frustration boiling over.
She quickly drew another arrow, took aim and let it fly—
Thwip!
The arrow pierced the last skeleton straight through its forehead, sending it crashing to the floor.
Silence followed, save for their heavy breathing.
Sticky, the only one unaffected by exhaustion, hopped onto a nearby table scanning the room for anything of interest.
Although weak and exhausted, Yuni pushed herself to her feet, her breath heavy and uneven. Sweat clung to her brow as she wiped it away with the back of her arm. Despite the ache in her muscles, she made her way toward the large door ahead.
Sticky gurgled softly, hopping up onto her head with a slight bounce. "Don't push yourself too much, okay?" he murmured in his usual bubbly tone, concern lacing his voice even in his simple gurgles.
Aralia strode over with a calm expression, placing a reassuring hand on Yuni's back—then suddenly slapped it hard.
"What the—?!" Yuni turned, her eyes flaring with rage.
Before she could throw a punch, Aralia cut her off—by driving her knee straight into Yuni's stomach.
"Stop. Let me take the lead for once, you angry, angry human," Aralia said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Doubling over, Yuni let out a grunt, one hand on her gut. She shot a glare at Aralia before straightening up with a wince. Looking away, she crossed her arms with a scowl.
"Tch. Whatever you say, rat," she muttered under her breath.
Aralia gave a short sigh, adjusting the grip on her twin axes. Without another word, she walked toward the bookshelves lining the far wall. With a loud grunt, she drove both axes into the shelves, cracking through the wood before prying it apart with sheer force.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Yuni barked, stepping forward.
But Aralia simply tilted her head toward the revealed outline of a hidden trapdoor now visible among the rubble.
Yuni blinked in surprise. "H-How did you know there was a door there…?"
Looking back over her shoulder with a sheepish smile, Aralia scratched the back of her head. "I didn't. I just wanted to get my stress out."
Sticky let out a long, amused gurgle as Yuni stood frozen in disbelief.
"Let's check it out!" Aralia exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she gripped the trapdoor's handle.
Yuni visibly recoiled, her expression twisted with secondhand embarrassment. But swallowing her pride, she gave a small nod and followed closely behind as Aralia turned the knob.
The moment the door creaked open, a radiant golden light spilled out from the hidden chamber below.
"Holy—" Yuni began
"—shit," Sticky finished, his gurgle somehow managing to convey both awe and disbelief.
What greeted them was nothing short of breathtaking. The room below was vast, illuminated by the glow of enchanted stones embedded in the walls. Every inch of space was filled with treasure—piles of gold coins, chests overflowing with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and every type of precious gem imaginable.
Weapons glimmered across ornate racks, some so finely crafted they looked untouched by time. There were blades forged from Vornumian steel—legendary for their balance—and even rarer, three weapons made of Black Steel. That alone made Yuni's breath catch in her throat. Black Steel—an ore said to be impossible to mine anymore—was so rare that even a single weapon forged from it was priceless. Most warriors would go their whole lives without ever laying eyes on one.
Sticky, who typically remained unfazed by material wealth, bounced in place, his usually blank expression shifting into a rare look of fascination.
Yuni stepped toward one of the Black Steel swords. It was a sleek katana, the blade impossibly dark with a faint shimmer along the edge. The hilt was shaped like a star crossed inlaid with obsidian lines that glowed faintly under the golden light. As soon as her fingers brushed the blade—
"Shit," she hissed, pulling her hand back. A thin line of blood traced across her palm.
It had cut her instantly.
Her lips curled into a grin. Black Steel never dulled. It was alive in its own way—hungering for battle. She admired the blade a moment longer before strapping it across her back. No scabbard. No problem.
"Anything useful, Sticky?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she tightened the strap.
The slime was hopping between glittering piles of loot, scanning, analyzing, searching. After a brief pause, he turned and let out a low gurgle that translated to, "Nothing yet."
Yuni nodded, eyes still gleaming as she looked over the vault once more. Whatever secrets this place held, one thing was certain—they'd just hit the motherlode.
Aralia reached toward a massive greatsword resting against a marble pedestal, its hilt wrapped in deep violet cloth and its obsidian blade humming with latent power. With a casual motion, she lifted the Black Steel weapon—something that would take two grown men to even budge—and spun it effortlessly in one hand before sliding it onto her back with practiced ease.
Yuni glanced over, her face twisting into visible disgust.What kind of monstrous strength is that…? From a mole rat, no less.
Without pause, Aralia moved to scoop up an entire ornate box overflowing with gems, only for Sticky's tentacles to whip out and snatch it clean from her arms.
The slime promptly bonked her on the head with one of its squishy limbs."Ow!" she yelped, rubbing the spot with a pout. "Why'd you slap me, Sticky?"
Sticky let out a deep, drawn-out gurgle, its tone chiding yet soft. The translation was clear:"You don't need trinkets and treasure. They'll only slow us down."
Aralia deflated a little, her shoulders sagging as she looked down. Stroking the top of her head gently, she muttered, "Okay, Sticky…"
Yuni, who had been leaning against the doorframe watching it all unfold, snorted with laughter."Busted," she smirked, turning on her heel and heading back into the large living room.
Sticky gave Aralia a reassuring nudge before hopping after Yuni, leaving Aralia to sulkily follow behind, one hand still resting atop her head like a scolded child. The glint of treasure faded behind them as the door creaked shut, leaving the hidden vault in silence once more.
As they stepped through the next arched doorway, a wave of that same suffocating presence hit them like a wall of dread. It was the same aura from earlier—but now it was closer, heavier, almost tangible. It clung to their skin and slithered into their lungs like smoke made of malice.
Yuni instinctively clutched at her chest, her breath shallow. Her heart pounded like war drums in her ears, but she forced herself to keep walking. Sticky, sensing her tension, extended a soft tentacle and gently patted her back in silent reassurance.
They pressed forward, composure intact—at least, mostly. Aralia, however, was faltering.
Behind them, the rat-humanoid trembled, arms crossed over her chest, trying in vain to keep the fear from spilling out. Her teeth clenched, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her, as she stared ahead with wide eyes. No matter how hard she tried to steady herself, the aura pierced straight into her soul like icy needles.
"We're getting close," Yuni muttered, voice hushed and grim. Her eyes were locked ahead, scanning the dimly lit hallway. Sticky hopped beside her in silence, every movement calculated.
Their footsteps echoed against the stone floor as they approached another ornate door—this one different, older. Its surface was cracked and lined with glowing veins of red and violet energy that pulsed like a heartbeat. The air around it was warped, and the pressure pressing down on them was so thick it made even breathing a conscious effort.
This was the source. The eye of the storm.
The presence didn't just seep through the door now—it poured from it like a roaring tide. Aralia stumbled slightly, her hands gripping tighter around her own body as she fought to keep her knees from giving out.
Sticky let out a low, rumbling gurgle, their tone sharpened and serious."Everyone… on guard."
All three stood still, the door looming before them like the maw of some ancient beast. Whatever lay beyond, they were about to face it.
——
"How're you holding up?" Theo asked, his voice strained as he supported a battered and bloodied Jae against his side.
Her breathing was shallow, her skin pale beneath the smears of crimson trailing down her arms and legs. Despite her condition, her eyes remained locked forward—fierce, unwavering.
Before them stood the source of the overwhelming pressure.
A towering black skeleton loomed at the end of the chamber, its frame far larger than the others they'd faced. Its elongated limbs ended in massive blades instead of hands, the edges jagged like obsidian teeth. From its back, a roiling miasma poured out like dark fire—twisting, flickering tendrils of corrupted energy that filled the room with a choking, malevolent presence.
Its hollow sockets glowed with an eerie red light, and with every step it took forward, the ground trembled.
"To think…" Theo murmured, chuckling grimly as he narrowed his eyes. "That this thing was behind all that oppressive mana."
The air around them crackled. The walls seemed to groan from the weight of the aura it exuded. This wasn't just another undead—it was a monster born of pure nightmare.
Theo gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip, readying his blade."Then let's make sure it doesn't leave this room alive."
Earlier.
Theo stepped out of the treasure-filled room and into the one Jae had previously occupied. His eyes scanned the space, noting the damage scattered throughout—splintered shelves, scorched walls, and torn furniture. Something about the scene immediately set him on edge.
His gaze settled on the broken bookshelf at the far end, where a hidden door now stood ajar. The uneasy feeling only deepened when he noticed Jae was nowhere to be found.
He sighed, a mix of concern and irritation washing over him. "You always rush ahead, huh?" he muttered under his breath before stepping through the door in pursuit.
The narrow hallway beyond was dimly lit, flickering torchlight casting tall shadows along the stone walls. It was tight—claustrophobically so—and made worse by the damp, musty air clinging to the space.
Running was a death sentence here. Every step needed to be calculated, measured. One misstep, and he'd slam face-first into a wall or worse.
It was in tight spaces like these that Theo truly appreciated the magical trinkets he kept stashed away—scrolls, rings, relics, anything that could turn the tide when cornered.
"If I was still a kid, my claustrophobic ass would've just passed out," he murmured to himself, a dry grin tugging at the corner of his lips despite the tension.
As he made his way forward, his eyes finally caught a short, feminine silhouette just up ahead.
"Jae—" he started to call out, relief in his tone.
But something flickered ahead.
In that moment, instinct took over.
Theo surged forward, shoving Jae aside just as a blazing firebolt surged toward her position.
Boom!
The impact exploded against his torso, launching him backward into the corridor wall. The crack of his body hitting stone echoed down the hall. Blood erupted from his mouth as he collapsed, crumpled beneath the flames that licked across his upper chest.
Jae's eyes widened in horror. "Theo!" she shouted, scrambling over to him, her hands shaking as she reached for him.
The left side of his upper torso was scorched, the skin blackened and peeling in places. He groaned, his face twisted in pain. Despite it, he managed a weak smile, lifting one trembling hand to gently pat her head.
"I'm fine… just a scratch," he lied through gritted teeth.
Jae's lips trembled, tears forming in her eyes. "Shit… shit! This is all my fault. If I hadn't rushed in ahead—if I just waited—none of this would've happened!"
Theo let out a strained chuckle, about to give a reassuring word, when his eyes flicked up past her.
Without hesitation, he reached for his blunderbuss, flipped it from his side, and pulled the trigger in one fluid motion.
Bang!
The shot rang out, the muzzle flash lighting up the hallway in a burst of flame and smoke.
The bullet slammed directly into a shadowy figure—revealing a skeletal creature clad in scorched priestly robes. Unlike the other towering undead, this one was closer to dwarf height, but its aura was no less menacing. Tattered cloth fluttered around its bones, and its hollow eye sockets glowed with an unnatural crimson gleam.
"Looks like they're getting smarter," Theo muttered, coughing hard.
"Then let's see how smart it is… when I rip its bones apart."