Finally, they reach the Entrance to the Safe Zone. It was as busy as before; some of the adventurers looked in Caleb’s direction as he entered the Safe Zone with Celestia. Caleb helped Celestia to a resting cot Outside a Tent in the Safe Zone, his expression tight with worry. She was alive but weak—too weak to stand on her own. He pressed a reassuring hand to her shoulder before stepping away. In a hushed tone, he promised, “I’ll fetch a healer.” The implication hung heavy in the air; his mana required replenishing time, limiting him to offering physical and emotional support. “Remain here,” he urged softly.

  Celestia offered a subtle nod; her mind still clouded from the lingering fatigue caused by the curse’s aftermath. She felt an inexplicable lightness. The agony that had contorted her body persisted like a spectral presence. As Celestia found solace in the Safe Zone, the adrenaline began to ebb away, allowing her mind to wander towards the comforting warmth Caleb had instilled within her.

  The air shifted as she sat there, trying to gather her thoughts and understand what happened after Caleb left. A sensation she had hoped never to experience again sent a shiver down her spine. Celestia’s body stiffened, an inexplicable chill coursing through her veins. A faint murmur at the edge of her consciousness alerted her, infusing the atmosphere with a sense of foreboding. Her heart pounded heavily as if detecting his presence before her mind could, and a cold sweat beaded on her forehead. She didn’t need to turn around to confirm—Ryker was here.

  The atmosphere in the Safe Zone bristled with tension, and the other adventurers who occupied the space retreated as they detected the impending conflict. They murmured to each other, but none ventured forth. Ryker’s reputation was well-known, and his presence caused a palpable reaction in the crowd, like a wolf stalking amidst sheep.

  Celestia’s breath hitched as the imposing Ryker approached. His dark nobility magnetized attention. Ryker, a man of imposing stature and muscular frame, was clad in a slick, ebony attire that devoured the surrounding illumination. Fiery red embellishments snaked across the material like veins of smouldering lava, exuding an aura of command and enigma that accentuated his angular features with noble severity. Geometric motifs and metallic accents suggested a harmony between refinement and deadliness, conveying both mystical capabilities and combat readiness.

  His form-fitting gloves, shimmering waist belt, and knee-high boots showcased meticulous craftsmanship. Each silent stride was a potent declaration of power and self-restraint. The scarlet accents, a delicate reminder of the intimidating magical force that thrummed beneath the surface, unified the ensemble into an imposing yet tasteful statement.

  His unruly hair framed a captivating face of charm and severity, with a strong jawline, prominent cheekbones, and hazel eyes ablaze with unnatural fervour—alluring yet ruthless. Faint scars along his hands and arms revealed a history of combat, and a silver ring with an enigmatic sigil rested on his finger. Its dim glow hinted at his pact with malign forces. He halted before Celestia, glaring down with a cruel, sneering expression.

  “Ah, the illustrious Celestia Pendragon, risen from the ashes of her own failure,” Ryker taunted, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the gathered adventurers like a sharp blade, silencing them all. His gaze bore into her, once filled with the promise of affection but now overflowing with malevolence. “You were meant to be our secret weapon on the tenth level, and yet here you stand, pathetically weak and trembling with fear. You abandoned us, left us to fend for ourselves. Tell me, how does it feel to be barely clinging to existence?” he jeered. Celestia sat before him, defenceless and drained, her Mana spent, and her body wracked with pain, crying out for respite. And Ryker revelled in her vulnerability, ever aware of the perfect moment to strike.

  She flinched, the weight of his words piercing deeper than any sword. She had faced countless dangers in the dungeon, but nothing felt as violating as this.

  “I… don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice weak but her gaze still defiant. “Why are you here?”

  “Why, Celestia?” Ryker bent down, bringing his face close to hers, his breath reeking of malice. “Why am I here? I’m here to witness your downfall, to see how far you’ve sunk.” He seized her arm, his grip painful as he pulled her partially off the cot. “You were meant to be the mighty Pendragon who could rescue us. Yet you failed. You squandered power, trust, and resources.” His hand caressed her cheek gently, and she flinched, the sensation of his touch searing into her skin like a brand.

  “I trusted you,” she whispered, her voice trembling but her gaze defiant. “I believed in you.”

  Ryker’s presence loomed over her like a shadow threatening to consume her. His laughter echoed through the Safe Zone, a cruel sound that sent shivers down her spine. He leaned in, his voice low and dripping with venom. “Trust?” He stood up, his eyes glittering with triumph. “That was your first mistake, Tia. And yet, you don’t realize how much of a fool you are. You never even knew the truth about your special little Dome, did you? The precious memory of mummy and pappy. The despicable symbol of your lineage.”

  Celestia’s heart raced, every instinct screaming at her to flee, but her body remained frozen, pinned under the weight of his gaze. There had been a time when those eyes were filled with promises—warmth, even love. Now, they were void, cold pits of malice that devoured her whole. She tried to shrink back, her breath hitching in panic, but there was no escape. Not from him. Slowly, deliberately, his hand moved toward her, brushing a lock of her hair with a cruel gentleness. She flinched; it was as if his very presence scorched her, leaving invisible scars that burned long after the contact broke. She jerked away, trembling, her mind screaming to get away, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped. Cornered.

  Celestia’s eyes widened in confusion. What was he talking about? The Dome… her family’s ancient legacy, the power she had inherited but barely understood. She had never questioned its mysterious activation in times of dire need, but now Ryker’s words struck a chord deep within her.

  “The Dome…” she whispered, searching his face for answers.

  Ryker’s smile widened, and there was something twisted, almost gleeful in his expression. “Oh yes, your precious Dome. The one thing that kept you safe so mysteriously. I know all about it, Tia. I knew long before you ever did before I made my moves on you, but I never told you. Why would I? It’s far more fun to watch you stumble blindly, thinking you were in control.”

  Ryker’s grin bore the toxicity of venom as he drew nearer. “Still feigning the martyr, Tia?” he sneered, his breath scorching her ear. “Your cherished Dome, your supposed power—all futile. You depended on me, and you still do. Can’t you perceive it?” His fingertips trailed along her jawline, a parody of gentleness, every contact saturated with malice. Celestia would recoil, uttering a desperate plea for him to cease addressing her as Tia.

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  His voice dripped with mockery, every word a blade slicing through the remnants of her will. Celestia’s pulse thundered in her ears, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The man she had once trusted, the man she had once believed in, once loved—was gone. In his place stood a monster, and no matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew this creature had always been lurking beneath the surface.

  Her blood ran cold. “You… you knew?”

  And now, he had come to claim her as though she were nothing more than a prize he had lost. The very thought made her stomach churn, the weight of his betrayal pressing down like a leaden weight in her chest. Every muscle screamed to fight, but she had no strength left. She was trapped, and Ryker knew it.

  “Indeed, I was fully aware!” Ryker’s hold tightened like a vice around her wrist, and with a forceful jerk, he pulled her entirely off the cot. Celestia crashed onto the ground with a nauseating thud, agony surging up her spine. The air was expelled from her lungs, causing her to gasp as she fought to regain her equilibrium. Celestia let out a cry of pain and attempted to clamber to her feet, but Ryker’s hand clasped around her wrist, hauling her up roughly. He loomed over her, his features contorted with malice. Ryker’s tone turned into a menacing rumble.

  “Do you truly believe yourself to be unique, Tia?” He spewed his words with venomous contempt, yanking her up to her knees as if she were merely a worthless doll. His fingers dug deeper into her flesh, leaving bruises with each painful tug. Every agonizing moment served as a harsh reminder of his deceit, his words dripping with venom, his touch searing her very being. “You were merely a pawn in my grand scheme, a disposable tool.” His voice descended into a sinister rumble as he drew her nearer. “Even now, after all I’ve accomplished, you pathetically cling to the delusion that you possess any sway over me? How pitiful you are. You always have been.”

  Celestia struggled in his grip, her mind whirling with disbelief. How had she never seen this side of him before? How had she allowed herself to be so blind? And for a brief moment, she wondered if this was how it would end—with Ryker’s venomous words tearing her apart from the inside out.

  But then, from the corner of her vision, she saw him.

  Caleb.

  He stood outside the tent, his figure still and tense. His golden eye narrowed, glowing in the dim light of the dungeon’s Safe Zone. His vision tunnelled on Ryker. The restraint it took not to intervene was unbearable, but he knew Celestia needed to hold her own—for now. The rage simmered beneath Caleb’s calm exterior, a barely contained storm. He watched Ryker’s every move, his hand inching toward his sword as he waited for the perfect moment to strike. His fist tightened at his side. His jaw clenched so hard that his teeth ached. Each vile word that left Ryker’s mouth was a blow he held himself back from retaliating against—for now. Caleb’s eye burned with a molten gold fury, barely contained. He was waiting, each muscle in his body taut as he calculated the perfect moment that would leave Ryker with no escape or excuse.

  “Ryker, stop this,” Celestia gasped, trying to pry his hand off her arm. “You’ve already won. Just… just leave me alone. And stop using my—nickname…”

  Ryker’s grip tightened, his face contorting with rage. “Won? Oh, Celestia, I haven’t won anything yet. But I will.”

  Before she could react, Ryker jerked her forward, dragging her toward the open space in front of the tent. She stumbled, her legs giving out beneath her, but Ryker didn’t let go. He dragged her through the dirt, his voice hissing in her ear, “You’re going to learn what happened on the tenth Level!” Her limbs felt like lead, too weak to resist. The rough dirt scraped against her knees as he dragged her, her heart pounding in her chest, each painful tug reminding her just how powerless she had become.

  Her pulse hammered as she twisted against his hold, her gaze darting to any possible escape, any gap in his iron grip. She forced herself to steady her breath, clinging to the thought that if she could just break free—if she could just stand—she could put distance between them. But her body betrayed her, too weak to comply. Her nails bit into her palms as she clenched her fists, a feeble attempt to remind herself she hadn’t given up. She couldn’t show weakness in front of him. Not again. Her pulse hammered as she forced her head to rise, locking eyes with Ryker, her defiance flickering like a candle in the face of his storm. “I trusted you, Ryker,” she said, her voice a strained whisper. “But you’re nothing but a coward.”

  A gasp escaped her as memories from the tenth Level surged through her mind, vivid images of the sinister sorcerer, the wicked enchantments, and the curse that had nearly stolen her life. It was Ryker who held the knowledge, guided her into that treacherous battle, and deserted her when the curse struck. As she gazed at his contorted features, this was the first recollection she could grasp in its entirety.

  The pain from that memory was almost as sharp as the physical ache in her body. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She would not give him the satisfaction. He had left her to die, and now he was here to finish what he started.

  “By the Elements, Ryker, why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why did you do this to me?”

  Ryker sneered down at her. “Still playing the victim, are we! You’re even weaker than I remember. Because you’re weak, and you trusted me. And because you were always in my way.” His voice dropped to a vicious whisper. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know, Tia. After all, you trusted me with everything. You let me into your life, your bed, your heart. And what did that get you? Betrayal. Face it, Tia—I’m a monster! Well, guess what—this monster fucked you. And you let me, didn’t you? And you—loved it.”

  He leaned in, his lips curling into a cruel smile as his eyes swept over the gathered adventurers. Not a single one stepped forward; not one dared interfere. A low, satisfied chuckle slipped from his lips as he turned back to Celestia, savouring her helplessness and the crowd’s quiet complicity. He had her cornered, and he knew it—her allies, her dignity, even her strength—everything that had once made her powerful was now slipping away right in front of them all.

  The gathered adventurers shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other but saying nothing. Ryker’s reputation hung over them all like a shroud; they feared him too much to act, yet shame pooled in their eyes as they watched Celestia struggle. But no one stepped forward. She was isolated, alone, just as he had planned it.

  Her heart wrenched in her chest, the weight of his words crushing her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her chest tight with the overwhelming sense of betrayal. She had given him everything, and now... now he was here, dragging her through the ashes of her past, forcing her to relive every agonizing moment. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. The pain was too much.

  “Ryker,” Celestia rasped, trying to pull herself free, but her strength was fading. “Please… just leave me.”

  His grip tightened painfully. “Leave you? I haven’t even begun.”

  And then, as if to remind her of just how much control he still held over her, Ryker leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Remember the tenth Level, Tia? Remember how I left you there, bleeding out, while the curse seeped into your bones? I didn’t cast that spell, but I wanted you to suffer. To finally get what you always deserved!”