The air in the strategy room pressed down like a second ceiling. Too thick to breathe easily. Too quiet to ignore. The flicker of the lanterns threw restless shadows against the walls. Dancing in rhythm with the unease that seeped into every corner.
The king leaned back slowly, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. His eyes examined the maps sprawled across the table, not truly reading them. His fingers traced the borders of the Elven Domain.
Again.
And again, as if doing so might redraw fate itself.
Elois stood off to the side, spine rigid. Hands clasped so tightly, they trembled. She didn't speak. Her eyes stayed fixed on the left of the table, unfocused. A storm roared quietly behind them. Fear. Guilt.
And something colder. Doubt.
No one filled the silence. They all felt it. A heavy stillness that spoke louder than words.
At last, the king exhaled, like a man admitting defeat before speaking.
"We've discussed this at length," he began, voice low but firm, "and it must be said clearly. Amanda's alleged abduction is not a simple matter."
He paused, eyes lingering on the Elven Domain's border, marked in silver ink.
"She is Eldara by blood and that magic… it runs deeper than loyalty or choice. Even system users cannot trespass without an invitation."
Lady Kiara shifted slightly in her seat. Even in age, her posture was steel. Her eyes didn't blink.
"No spells can trace her," the king added, more to himself than the others. "Not inside those woods."
Elois looked up, her voice finally cracking through the silence. "Then we don't even know if she's alive."
The king's gaze flicked to her. Sympathy lingered behind his eyes, but he said nothing.
Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the map. "There's more," he said, quieter now. "Something unexpected. Concerning a certain Arcanite."
That name shattered the silence.
Murmurs sparked instantly. Guildmates exchanged looks. Eyebrows raised. Some frowned. Others simply froze.
Lady Kiara rose before the room could spiral. "I have a hunch that the young man has formed a contract."
The murmurs halted.
A silence thicker than before followed, weighted with implications no one dared voice.
Elois blinked. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't speak. She didn't need to. The look in her eyes, widened, haunted, said everything.
"An Arcanite?" someone asked. Hesitant.
"If she wasn't at the guild last night," Lady Kiara replied, nodding, gaze unreadable, "then she's likely gone too. But we lack confirmation."
The words sat heavily on everyone's shoulders.
The room had the feel of a locked chamber, no air, no direction. Pressure rising.
Then a voice drifted from the shadows.
"It's not darkness that he's embraced."
The Monkey King leaned lazily against the window frame, tail curled around one ankle. His golden eyes fixed somewhere past the horizon.
He wasn't smiling.
"What he's chosen," he said, "is worse."
The tail uncurled. He stepped forward.
"That grey place where right and wrong blur," he murmured, eyes flicking to each one of them,
"Where survival speaks louder than morals."
"Where people stop asking what's right and only ask what's necessary."
He folded his arms, voice low now. "That's where heroes fall."
The words lingered like smoke.
From the side, metal shifted softly. Armor.
A quiet strength entered the room with the Aurora Paladin.
She didn't speak immediately, but when she did, her voice rang like tempered steel. "He's unpredictable now."
Her Griffin let out a low, vibrating growl. Not threatening. Warning.
"I've used Foul Perception across the city and if he had truly fallen into malice, I would have sensed it."
She paused, hand stroking the Griffin's feathered brow.
"But what he's done… It's deeper than corruption. It's conviction."
She looked toward the Monkey King. "And that, as you said, is the most dangerous kind."
Eyes flicked back to the king. He hadn't moved.
Then he spoke again. Softer.
"I owe you all the truth," he said.
Lady Kiara stiffened.
The king raised a hand gently. "I know what you're thinking, Lady Kiara. But I think it is time."
His voice darkened.
"In Brokrun Village, Leo may have dealt with a certain dungeon."
Gasps. No words.
"The Cave of Reflections," he confirmed.
His words dropped like stones.
"The late Dragon Lord and I attempted it once," he continued. "We failed. I never spoke of it again."
He stared down at the map, lost in something. Deeper.
"There," his voice cracked, "regrets come to life. Fears take form."
"And Leo," he added grimly, "conquered it."
The air thinned.
The dungeon was a place of legend. A forbidden challenge whispered about in the darkest corners of the realm. Tales of those who had entered it spoke of endless corridors of shadows, where one's deepest fears. Regrets took physical form, threatening to consume them whole.
"Lady Kiara mentioned that the scouts arrived the next morning. There had been a massive eruption. The dungeon collapsed. But there were no bodies. Not even a trace."
Someone exhaled a curse under their breath. Another crossed themselves.
"It's possible," the king said, his voice dropping to a near whisper,
"That Leo encountered something within the dungeon."
"Something powerful enough to bend him to its will. A force that could have compelled him to act in ways we can't yet understand."
Lady Kiara's face darkened. Her next words were quiet.
"A dungeon master."
The phrase froze the room.
No one moved. Not the paladin. Not the beast. Not even the king.
The idea hovered. Poisonous and impossible to ignore.
And suddenly, all those maps and lines and plans meant nothing.
Because whatever Leo encountered. It was no longer playing by their rules.