Although Pell was undead, his soul still clung to his body. The other monsters in the dungeon weren’t like him. If they hungered, they’d roam endlessly, driven purely by instinct, seeking something—anything—to devour. The demon rat that roamed the dungeon was a prime example of this mindless hunger.

  Then there was Mr. Bones—a skeleton who seemed different from the rest. He had guided Enya to Pell’s shop without attacking her, an action that no mindless monster would take. This strange behavior set him apart from the other slow, shambling skeletons that patrolled the halls endlessly, sword in hand.

  Pell was certain that Mr. Bones had a soul and an ego, something far more intelligent than the mindless creatures that roamed the dungeon. He had no proof; Mr. Bones had never spoken—but the fact that he had spared Enya was enough evidence for Pell. However, there was one thing Pell couldn’t explain: Mr. Bones didn’t have a soul flame inside his skull, something that made no sense to him.

  Pell’s attention shifted when he spotted a zombie stumbling in the distance. He raised his arm behind him, signaling for Enya to stop. They both slowed and froze, waiting as the zombie shuffled by, hoping it wouldn’t notice them. After a few moments, it moved out of sight, and only then did Pell give the signal to continue.

  This dungeon was clearly an undead one, obvious from the creatures that inhabited it, including himself. They were on the fifth floor now. The upper levels housed a variety of undead—zombified rabbits, flaming skulls that soared through the air, and wisps, ghostly lanterns that flickered in the darkness.

  But Pell had come to a conclusion: this wasn’t just any dungeon. It was a sanctum—a dungeon that had been converted into a base. What other reason could there be for a study with books inside of a dungeon?

  The study was no different from any room you might find in a home or a library. Dusty tomes lined the shelves, filled with the basic concepts and theories of necromancy. They explained necromantic spells and the mechanics of manipulating the dead—leftovers from a scholar who had devoted their life—or perhaps death—to the forbidden study of necromancy.

  Pell had only discovered this dungeon by chance. A group of travelers, clearly out of their depth, had stumbled upon its entrance by accident. For a few silver coins, they eagerly traded its location, completely unaware of what they had found.

  Most dungeons that adventurers raided were in the outer realms, accessible only by acquiring the right coordinates and teleporting through the adventurer guild’s dimensional warp crystals. Pell had struck gold when he confirmed the existence of a dungeon hidden within the layers. Those travelers were far too na?ve.

  As they walked, Pell’s thoughts twisted in a knot of doubt and hesitation. He tried to keep his gaze fixed ahead, but his pace slowed, his steps faltering now and then. He was stalling—reluctant to reach their destination. Going through with his plan meant committing to something he wasn’t entirely certain of.

  The only reason he could think of for why the little girl didn’t have a class, or why she had acquired several skills without one, was likely tied to a deeper reason. Many nobles, particularly the elite, had their classes stagnated. They often delayed obtaining a class, aiming instead for a higher tier, one that was rarer and more powerful. Enya, Pell realized, was destined to become someone important in the future. But that future meant nothing if they both died here, trapped inside this dungeon.

  Suddenly, a deep hum reverberated through the dungeon’s walls, scattering Pell’s thoughts. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and Pell’s core shuddered in recognition. He knew this feeling—it was coming.

  Enya froze in place, mirroring Pell’s sudden stillness. A loud hum shook the walls and the ground beneath them. The sound grew louder, creeping closer, traveling through the very stone. The vibrations steadily increased, becoming more violent. Dust and rubble began to fall from the ceiling as cracks snaked across the walls. The air grew thick with a dusty fog, and the flames atop the torches along the walls flared wildly.

  “Shit!” Pell cursed, panic rising in his chest. He scanned the area, his bones rattling. It wasn’t from fear—or the shaking ground, which was throwing him off balance—but something far deeper. The very core of his being trembled. His soul was shaking. Tiny fissures appeared in his bones, and splinters and chips broke off, falling to the ground like raindrops, bouncing in rhythm with the violent rumblings that tore through the dungeon.

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  "Pell?!" Enya cried, her voice trembling. "W-what's going on?!" She was staring at the ground, her body wobbling. Desperately, she fought to stay upright, but gravity had other plans. A shockwave of invisible force pulsed from deep down the hall, sending ripples through the ground.

  Enya pressed her back and arms against the wall behind her, bracing herself to stay steady. The quaking came so suddenly that she nearly lost her balance, but thankfully, she was close enough to the wall to use it as support.

  The ground beneath her, once solid, cracked and buckled with each passing second, the fissures widening. Her body trembled, her eyes fixed on the floor as she focused all her energy on keeping her footing. She could feel her legs shaking under the pressure of the relentless tremors. The wall, which had seemed like a solid barrier moments ago, began to strain. The large stone bricks, once neatly aligned, now wobbled precariously, threatening to collapse at any moment.

  Across from her, a few bricks from the opposite wall began to fall out of their cavities. A jolt of fear shot down her spine as a large brick tumbled to the ground beside her, shattering into fragments. The sharp, sudden noise made her jump, her heart racing. She glanced to her right, directly at the spot where the brick had fallen. Her pupils dilated as she saw a small black gap at the very top of the wall near the ceiling. The brick had come from nearly the highest point.

  As her gaze lingered on the hollowed-out area, several other bricks started to wiggle loose. One of them, perfectly aligned with her position, moved dangerously. Enya barely noticed its shift until it was too late. As the heavy shadow of the falling brick grew larger, she twisted her neck to get a better look.

  The moment she recognized the threat, her legs gave way. She slid down the wall, the silk of her garment offering little resistance. In a frantic attempt to shield herself, she threw her arms above her head in an X-shaped pattern, snapping her eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

  After a quick moment, amidst the chaos and havoc happening all around her, she heard two loud sounds. One was more of a thud from above her, and the second was the same shatter noise she heard before. As the world around her shook, she slowly opened her eyes and tilted her head upwards. She saw the bony arm and elbow of Pell right above her. He stood straight, his body slightly leaning over her, his arm lying flat in a V-shape in the air above her.

  "Fuck! You okay?!" Pell's shout stabbed the hesitation dead within her mind.

  "Y-yes!" she continued, "thank you!" Enya took a glance over to the right of her, where the shattering sound had come up, and noticed that there was another brick on the ground. It lay a meter away and was broken into two chunks.

  Another thunderous rumble sent a shockwave throughout the entire space, jolting her senses that nearly left her body, back into place. "W-what's happening Pell?!" screamed Enya. She placed her hands on the ground beside her to keep herself upright. Her vision blurred and started to shift. It was like the dungeon was tilting on its axis. The world became offset by a few degrees, yet she didn't lean to the side. The dungeon swayed and rotated slightly, but the gravity keeping her to the ground stayed constant.

  "It's... it's!" Pell shouted, his legs moving and swaying as the dungeon shifted. A loud snap exploded out from his hand. His gaze moved over to the arm protecting the brat from fatal falling bricks. His entire pinky finger had just blown off his hand, shattering into white dusty particles in the air. "Damn! it!" he blurted.

  A ping shot out in his mind. His status screen popped up with a new notification.

  System Notification: Rapid health loss due to dungeon core instability.

  Health: 94/100

  "It's the...warning sign of the dungeon collapse!" he shouted, his voice rough, brittle, and pained. Pell's entire core was not faring well. The more the dungeon rumbled, the more control he lost over his own body.

  Another eruption of white powder, one from the remnants of a bone inside his left foot, billowed upwards past his face. Another pop came out an instant later—this time, it was one of his right ribs. Pell's bones started to explode and dissipate one by one, turning into particles of calcium and collagen.

  System Notification: Rapid health loss due to dungeon core instability.

  Health: 72/100

  As more and more of Pell's bones cracked, along with the trembling and periodic cries from Enya, the rumbling of the dungeon eventually began to weaken. After what had felt like centuries, but was only barely a minute in duration, the dungeon calmed. The plane of existence reverted to its correct axis, returning their vision and sense of balance back to normality. The cacophonies of shattering brick, exploding bone, and violent shock waves of pressure also ceased gradually.