My momentary triumph was short-lived. A creeping unease settled in as I realized something was wrong. My fist, still extended from the final blow, was stuck. Embedded in what should have been Vallen’s stomach. But instead of flesh and bone, my hand had sunk into something soft, malleable.

  Cy.

  My eyes widened. The figure in front of me crumbled, disintegrating into a lifeless mound of earth.

  "Time’s up," Vallen’s voice rang out, calm and unshaken.

  I snapped my gaze to the side, and there she stood, completely unharmed, emerging from behind her decoy with a composed smile.

  "But you did well," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’ll admit, I’m impressed. Looks like accepting Aeloria’s Blessing was a smart choice."

  Swallowing my pride, I gave her a small nod, conceding defeat.

  “Smart, maybe,” I muttered. “Still not enough.”

  I exhaled sharply, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. I felt devastated. She didn't even use her high-tier spells. Not to mention her special abilities. I barely got past her basic toolkit.

  My legs gave out. Exhaustion crashed into me like a wave, dragging me to the ground. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, and the lingering numbness from her whip’s poison only worsened my condition.

  I clenched my fists, frustration simmering beneath the surface. I had pushed myself to the limit, and it still wasn’t enough.

  A small vial entered my vision.

  "Here," Vallen said, kneeling beside me and offering the potion. "You earned this. And no, it’s not poisoned."

  "Wasn’t worried," I muttered, though I took it without hesitation. The bitter liquid burned down my throat, and a soothing warmth spread through my limbs, dulling the pain, though it did little for my pride.

  Vallen studied me in silence for a moment. "You know, most people wouldn’t have sted even half as long."

  "Is that your way of saying I’m special?" I said, half-ughing, half-breathless.

  "No," she replied with a smirk. "It’s my way of saying you're stubborn."

  I managed a faint grin. "Same thing, really."

  She stood and offered me a hand. "You’ve got potential. But potential means nothing if you break before the real fight begins."

  I took her hand, letting her pull me up, though my legs still wobbled beneath me. "Then I’ll just have to get stronger. Strong enough to nd a real hit next time."

  "Next time?" she raised an eyebrow. "You pnning a rematch already?"

  "Eventually," I said, breathing hard. "Maybe not tomorrow… or the day after… but yeah."

  "Good," Vallen said, turning away. "Because the next time we spar, I won’t go easy."

  Vallen Raenhir. A veteran adventurer. Rumors cimed she had once reached the fourth floor of the Labyrinth, a feat so few had achieved.

  And here I was, barely surviving a sparring match against her.

  The difference in our strength was undeniable.

  I let out a slow breath, staring at the sky above. I still had a long way to go.

  ***

  My crushing loss against Vallen made one thing painfully clear. I was still weak.

  I had been blinded by my rapid growth, convinced I was making real progress, without realizing just how far I still had to go. The sky stretched far beyond my reach, and I had only just begun my climb.

  Determined to make the most of my time before our next Tower expedition, I established a strict routine. I spent hours at the Grand Library, combing through records and forgotten texts in search of hidden secrets about the Tower. I discussed battle strategies with fellow druids, especially Vallen, refining my combat style and perfecting my approach to druid builds.

  Alongside Orin, I gathered materials for potions, ensuring we’d be well-stocked for the dangers ahead. I also made it a habit to check on Sam’s progress at the Adventurer’s Training Grounds, observing his development and offering guidance where I could.

  Beyond that, my team and I had officially registered with the Adventurer’s Guild under the name Ironwood, a fitting representation of our diverse group of multiple races. We’d already started selecting potential quests, weighing the risks against the rewards. Though nothing was finalized yet, we had outlined our pnned route for the next Tower expedition.

  Time passed in a blur, days melding together as we prepared.

  Before I knew it, the first of the month had arrived.

  It was time to enter the Tower once again.

  ***

  The vast, dark sky loomed above us as we stepped onto the first floor. A bone-chilling cold seeped into our skin, and an oppressive atmosphere pressed down on us like an unseen force. Unlike my first exploration, I wasn’t alone this time. I had the Ironwood team by my side.

  Our objective was clear: reach the Deepnest Tunnel. Without needing further instructions, we moved westward from the safe zone.

  A gaping, ominous hole awaited us at the tunnel’s entrance. Just standing before it sent a shiver down my spine. As we stepped inside, we were immediately greeted by scurrying Squeebs, a small, rat-like creatures that thrived in these tunnels. They weren’t aggressive, but their presence came with a horrendous stench that clung to the air like a curse.

  “Ugh… what is that smell?!” Elena gagged, clutching her stomach.

  “Rotten eggs mixed with wet Squeebs fur and death,” I muttered, covering my nose with my sleeve.

  Orin wasn’t faring any better. She staggered to the side and emptied her stomach, her face turning an unhealthy shade of green. She coughed violently, her eyes watering as she desperately fumbled for something in her pouch.

  “I never expected the smell to be this bad,” she choked out between coughs. “My nose is going to file a formal compint.”

  Even I, who had steeled myself for the journey, was barely holding it together. My stomach churned, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to succumb to the nausea.

  Orin finally pulled out a small vial and uncorked it. A faint, sweet aroma repced the putrid air as she activated Aroma Veil, an item designed to neutralize foul odors.

  Elena groaned, inhaling deeply. “Oh gods… bless you, Orin. You just saved my life.”

  “You can repay me by letting me borrow your bow next time,” Orin wheezed, still pale but managing a weak grin.

  “Don’t push your luck,” Elena muttered, though she smiled back.

  The tunnel itself was devoid of natural light. Only faint, pulsating glows from scattered crystal formations on the ceiling provided minimal illumination.

  Deepnest Tunnel’s main route was easy to navigate, marked by an increasing number of crystals leading straight to the boss chamber that guarded the portal. The creatures along this path were weak, making it a popur route for beginners.

  But that wasn’t why the Ironwood team chose this route.

  Beneath its seemingly simple structure, Deepnest Tunnel harbored powerful monsters and hidden secrets within its countless branching paths. Fortunately, we had two elves on our team, Darwyn and Elena, who excelled at tracking.

  Just as druids specialized in potion-making and dwarves in forging weapons and armor, elves had a unique gift: scouting. Their heightened senses of smell, hearing, and sight allowed them to perceive intricate paths and detect dangers others would easily miss.

  “This way,” Darwyn said, his sharp eyes scanning the tunnel ahead. “Take the left path, but be mindful of the traps above. After the crossroads, another left, then a right.”

  We followed his lead, moving carefully in formation. Muradin took point, shielding the team from potential ambushes. Darwyn walked just behind him, keenly observing the terrain, checking for traps, and guiding us forward. Elena and Orin stayed in the middle of our formation, while I brought up the rear, keeping watch over them.

  Despite the eerie silence, the weight of unseen threats pressed upon us. Every step forward carried a sense of unease, a reminder that danger lurked just beyond the dim glow of the crystals.

  "Stop," Darwyn suddenly whispered, raising a hand. Without hesitation, he nocked an arrow and let it fly.

  A sharp thunk echoed as the arrow buried itself into something above us.

  Then came a low, eerie hiss, like air escaping from a punctured lung.

  “What in the abyss was that…?” Muradin muttered, raising his shield.

  Without warning, a massive form detached from the ceiling, crashing to the ground with a wet, sickening thud. Dust and crystal shards burst outward.

  Now fully visible, its chitinous body shimmered under the dim glow of the cavern crystals. The monster’s fiery orange bristles stood on end, twitching with agitation. Its massive pincers ccked angrily, echoing like snapping bones.

  “Grimlurker!” Darwyn shouted, nocking another arrow. “It was stalking us!”

  “Bloody sneaky freak!” Muradin growled, gripping his hammer tight. “That thing nearly had my head for breakfast!”

  “Focus!” I barked. “We bring it down, now!”

  Muradin charged with a roar, his hammer a blur of steel and fury. Darwyn and Elena let arrows fly in rapid succession, each shot striking the Grimlurker’s bristled joints with precision.

  The Grimlurker shrieked, its segmented body thrashing wildly. One pincer narrowly missed Orin, who ducked and rolled with a startled yelp.

  “You want a piece of me?! Here!” she cried, tossing a Fmeburst Fsk straight into the creature’s open mandibles. It exploded in a burst of fme and smoke, staggering the beast.

  Seizing the opening, I unleashed a burst of Wind Cutter. Energy crackled across the cavern walls as the final arrow from Darwyn struck true, straight into the monster’s eye.

  The Grimlurker let out one final, piercing screech. Then its body colpsed, legs twitching before vanishing into a light.

  Silence fell. Only our ragged breathing filled the space.

  “That… was too close,” Orin panted, leaning on her knees.

  “Too damn close,” Muradin agreed. “Next time, I’m checking the ceiling.” He gnced at Darwyn. “Good eyes, elf. You saved my beard.”

  Darwyn gave a faint, satisfied nod. “We’ll need to stay sharper than that. That thing was just the appetizer.”

  I stared deeper into the tunnel. Something moved in the distance, just beyond the light.

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice low. “Because something far worse is already waiting.”

  And we kept walking, weapons raised, toward the next nightmare.