Then, in a single smooth movement, Chael slipped away from the curtain.

  The knight continued walking, oblivious, and Chael closed the distance in an instant. With precise ease, he thrust his spear into the gap of its nape.

  The knight jerked violently, and then it collapsed.

  A long silence followed.

  Patches peeked out from behind the curtain, staring at the fallen knight.

  He let out a low whistle.

  "Now that," he murmured, "was cold."

  Chael ignored him.

  Patches stepped out fully, shaking his head in mock dismay. "Just how strong are you to skewer these knights so easily? Blindfolded, no less. It’s a grand mockery, really. Come to think of it, lady, why are you even wearing a blindfold? Surely, you can still see; otherwise you…"

  While Patches rambled on, Chael pulled his spear free. This had been the fourth knight he had killed today. Now that he understood the undead nature of these knights, was the word ‘killed’ even appropriate?

  Chael didn’t know how many more he had to slay on his way to the City Below, but he hoped that these knights were the only creatures that would cross their paths for now. Their movements and attacks were more or less basic, and they certainly didn’t have occult spells or powers - like the damned Hollowed Choir.

  Besides the knights and the Hollowed Choir, Chael did not know what other creatures must be lying around in the Crucible.

  He hoped he’d never have to find out.

  “If it were up to me, I’d avoid these abominations altogether, I tell ya!” Patches said dramatically. "Honestly, traveling with you is terrible for my heart. I can feel the stress shortening my lifespan."

  Chael shot him a look. "You’ll live."

  Patches grinned. "You say that now."

  Chael didn’t respond. His attention had already shifted back to the corridor.

  They had to keep moving.

  ****

  They traveled for what felt like hours.

  The Crucible stretched on endlessly, its vast, winding corridors weaving through grand halls, shattered sanctuaries, and forgotten chambers. At times, the silence was broken by the distant echo of unseen movements such as a soft shuffle behind a door and the faint creak of weight pressing against ancient wood. But nothing ever emerged.

  Chael didn’t know whether that made it better or worse.

  He had killed several more knights along the way, his spear thrusting cleanly through the gaps in their armor. A majority of the time, he hid behind curtains or corners and waited for the knight to emerge and walk past before dealing a fatal blow, but occasionally, he had no choice but to fight them.

  While Patches trembled in a crouched position while clutching his head, Chael would battle the knights. Their attack patterns were very predictable, and the reflections in their armor gave Chael every advantage, so he had almost no trouble dealing with them even in fair combat.

  Thanks to the Vitality Vials, he felt a lot better. Much stronger, too. This was mainly due to the fact that he started using his dominant hand to wield the spear. Though the pain was still there, it was much more bearable now.

  The Hollowed Choir had appeared twice, their hollow sockets weeping frozen mist as they chanted in that cursed tongue. Each time, he cut them down before they had a chance to hit him with any spells or try to revive a knight he had slain.

  Chael realised that the Hollowed Choir were fairly easy to deal with when they were not in numbers or hiding behind an object of their necromancy, or whatever it was.

  It wasn’t easy, but it was getting easier.

  His body moved faster, and his senses felt sharper, thanks to the Vitality Vial.

  Patches, of course, was useless.

  "Amazing," the merchant marveled as they passed through yet another deserted chamber. "Truly, I have never seen a man so eager to throw himself into certain death. A privilege to witness, really."

  Chael ignored him and adjusted his grip on his spear to shift the reflections.

  Patches sighed dramatically. "Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just be back here, admiring your absolute lunacy. Do go on!"

  They continued forward.

  At one point, Patches tripped over a loose tile and nearly fell into a pit of rusted pikes. Chael caught him by the back of his coat at the last second.

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  Patches, pale-faced and breathless, slowly turned to look at him.

  Chael let go.

  Patches hit the ground face-first.

  "You," he wheezed from the floor, "are a very, very cruel person."

  Chael stepped over him.

  Patches grumbled the whole way down the next corridor.

  At another point, as they passed by a seemingly empty hallway, Patches suddenly froze and placed a hand over his chest.

  "What is it?" Chael asked, frowning.

  Patches’ expression darkened. "I sense… a horrible presence. Something unspeakably terrifying. Something…"

  He turned his head sharply. "...that is definitely not something I can fight."

  "Then let’s keep moving."

  "Ah, but you see," Patches held up a finger, grinning slyly. "If you go that way, I’ll be forced to give my expert tactical advice, which is: Good luck! I will be running in the opposite direction."

  Chael stared at him. Then, he turned in the opposite direction.

  Patches exhaled in relief. "Smart lass."

  Eventually, they reached a grand, spiraling staircase.

  It stretched downward into darkness and disappeared into the unknown depths below.

  Patches came to a dead stop beside him, peering down into the abyss.

  "Ahhh…" he murmured. "Now, this is a sight that screams: ‘Go back.’ I have another route in mind that avoids this creepy abyss. Might be a tad bit longer, though."

  Chael didn’t move. His gaze remained on the steps.

  Patches let out a dry chuckle. "Right, right, I can see that look. You’re thinking, ‘Patches, what could possibly be down there that’s worse than what we’ve already seen?’ And to that, my dear friend, I say: Everything. If I were you, I’d simply be Patches the Merchant’s bodyguard and simply avoid all this death-courting nonsense."

  Chael exhaled.

  "Still don’t get it, huh?" Patches scratched his head. "The horrors of the City Below are beyond description. You think what we’ve seen up here is bad?"

  He let out a hollow laugh. "This is a paradise compared to what’s waiting down there. It’s like a great wind swept every abomination here right into the City Below!"

  Chael remained silent.

  He had thought about this before.

  Why were there so few monsters here?

  Ever since he came into Nyrethil, and everywhere they went in the Crucible, it had been almost empty. The knights were here, yes, and the Hollowed Choir, but compared to the sheer vastness of the Crucible of Light…

  It felt so wrong and empty.

  Why?

  Chael tried to think back.

  He tried to remember what he had been so certain of before. He tried to recall the answer he knew he had already figured out.

  Nothing came.

  His mind was blank.

  A deep, gnawing absence swallowed the thought, leaving behind only a hollow echo where certainty should have been.

  Chael frowned.

  Patches watched him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

  After a long moment, Chael sighed.

  "I don’t remember."

  Patches blinked. "…Remember what?"

  Chael’s jaw tightened slightly. "Nothing..."

  Patches raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Convenient."

  Chael didn’t respond.

  He looked down at the spiraling staircase again. The feeling hadn’t gone away.

  Something was wrong.

  Something had been taken.

  He just didn’t know what.

  But right now, it didn’t matter. He was going down either way.

  ****

  They traveled for what felt like several more hours, the grand staircases and winding corridors twisting in on themselves like an endless labyrinth.

  Chael was no stranger to difficult terrain, but this place was a nightmare.

  The architecture seemed purposeless, hallways leading nowhere, stairways that climbed for eternity only to spiral right back down. At one point, they entered a passage where the walls were lined with massive stained-glass windows, yet not a single shard of light seeped through. It was as if the outside world didn’t exist.

  Patches, for once, had gone quiet.

  Maybe it was the growing tension, or maybe it was the fact that Chael had nearly shoved him off a ledge for talking too much earlier. Either way, the merchant seemed content to let him focus.

  Eventually, they reached a halt in a dark, storage-like chamber.

  Patches stepped forward with a grin. “Ah, here we are! The City Below is right down there.”

  Chael stepped inside.

  The room was wide and shadowed, with dust swirling in the dim light of pale moonbeams filtering through a single high-up window. Wooden crates and rusted barrels were scattered carelessly, some overturned, their contents long since spilled or stolen. Iron chains hung from the ceiling, their links swaying slightly despite the stillness of the air.

  But in the center of the room, there was a huge pit.

  Chael’s brows furrowed.

  It was massive and stretched across nearly half the chamber. It’s sheer edges were vanishing into a seemingly endless abyss. The bottom was completely obscured by thick, white fog.

  Chael approached the edge, gripping his spear. He peered down.

  Nothing.

  The fog was too thick, but even without seeing the bottom, he could tell.

  It was a long, long way down.

  "This is a fall." Chael frowned, inspecting the edges and trying to figure out how to climb down this. "You said it was a tunnel-"

  He never finished the sentence.

  The world tilted.

  There was no warning. No shift in movement and no flicker of motion behind him.

  A boot slammed into his back.

  And suddenly, he was falling.

  The air rushed past Chael’s ears as his body plunged through endless white. His stomach lurched violently, and his limbs were weightless as he tumbled deeper and deeper into the white abyss leading straight to the City Below.

  Above him, standing at the edge of the pit, Patches sighed, arms crossed over his chest.

  "Aaaah, dear me," Patches lamented. "So full of suspicion, that one. So quick to assume the worst in people. It’s really quite tragic."

  He shook his head with mock regret. "Still, it’s always nice to see a fool take a leap of faith."

  He grinned.

  "Say hello to the bottom for me!"

  Then, he turned and walked away.