With such intention in mind, I dive deeper into the hole, sinking toward the bottom.
As I descend, I notice how the water grows murkier the further I go. Visibility fades, colors dull, and shadows stretch into nothing. So I shut my eyes close, raising one hand upwards, palm open—reaching not for light, but for focus.
I don't know where my limits lie, hell, I don't even fully understand how I'm able to use magic without speaking the incantations. But if one or two weak spells can function properly that way, then this one should be no different… As slowly, my wrist begins to glow, a sign that magic is taking form, with the words repeat in my mind, 'Thyren Isvryn.'
Sharp shards of ice shot from my hands, speeding toward the surface, colliding with the metal grate overhead and shattering on impact—splintering into slightly smaller fragments that floated atop the water.
I cast the incantation three times, draining my HP down to just two hundred and fifty, more than half consumed to blanket the water's surface with heavy chunks of ice.
Then I let my hand drift along the stone wall as I swam away, feeling the turns of the labyrinth press in around me. Left at one bend, then right at the next—each twist of the corridor was already burned into my memory by now.
After all, I'd swum this path more than enough times.
Until I reached the midway point between the last grate and the next, I halted. Slowly raised my index finger toward the passage I had just come from. In my mind, I whispered yet another type of spell.
"Thyren... Vorthar..."
A pulse of force explodes far in the distance—an artificial vacuum, carefully placed, though I still feel the violent tremor as the wave hurls me backward. Then comes the second effect—an irresistible suction that drags me forward again with the collapsing current. So I grit my teeth and anchor myself, fingers clawing around a jagged outcrop in the wall. I hold on, bracing against the violent surge until the water finally calms.
But just to make it clear, I don't cast it to hurt anyone.
This isn't about destruction—it's about disruption. Chaos. Since the blast kicks up layers of mud and grit that've settled along the labyrinth floor, flooding the tunnel with a dense cloud of debris… Visibility dissolves into nothing.
Even the guiding lights become blurred, their glow smothered beneath a drifting curtain of debris, impossible now to trace back to their source… Or at least, that's the belief I cling to when I finally arrive at the large chamber—only to find it completely empty. No one's here. And worse, the grate has already lowered back beneath the surface of the water.
Shit...
Something's off with my timing. I must've miscalculated by ten, maybe fifteen seconds. But I force myself not to panic. If anything, this might actually work in my favor.
At my current level, my metabolism should be operating at peak efficiency. I should be able to survive with less oxygen than anyone below my rank.
I mean, I should still have about a minute and a half left before I need to breathe again—a window just long enough for me to reach the next chamber, which is probably moments away from sealing itself shut too… But the situation where I'm running low on oxygen is exactly the scenario where Orion and his crew should be in an even worse state than I am.
Which is why with every ounce of hope clenched tight in my chest, I surge forward again—through winding corridors and branching paths—pushing myself toward the next exit.
And when I finally break into the chamber—there's also no one. No figures waiting. No sign of movement… The metal grate above is already descending, groaning with finality as it inches toward sealing the chamber off. I've got maybe five seconds to draw in air before I'm locked beneath again.
So naturally, the moment I break the surface, I don't hold back—I suck in a breath as hard and deep as my lungs can take, loud and desperate. My hands slam against the grate above me, pressing up against the cold metal like I could somehow lift it back, even if only by a few inches. I know it's pointless, but that motion doesn't come from logic but survival instinct.
Right now my mind can only focus on one thing—getting enough oxygen back into my bloodstream, pushing it to my brain before the darkness creeps in.
A few seconds pass. My heartbeat slows. The panic fades—just for a moment—just enough for my eyes to register the sudden burst of bubbles rising from the depths before heads break the surface across the chamber.
Orion and his remaining teammates.
Somehow—despite everything I threw at them—four out of seven still managed to survive. All that effort, all the chaos I'd unleashed and it only claimed three while the ones who remained stared at me with eyes full of fury, hatred carved deep into their expressions as they stole whatever seconds they could to breathe… Three seconds, maybe—no more—before the grate pressed down again, dragging all our heads back beneath the surface.
It's four against one…
If I cast that blast spell again here… would it be enough?
No. The distance is too short. If the vacuum detonates in this tight space while I'm this close, the backlash could be fatal to myself.
Zyndrath is out of the question.
Anemora? Useless underwater.
And Terra… it's an earth-based spell I've never tested. I don't even know what'll happen if I try it down here, so that one's off the table too. But then what's left?
My mind races, flipping through options I barely have time to consider—
And then they come.
Two of Orion's allies suddenly surge toward me—fast. Their hands reach up to the iron grate overhead, using it to propel themselves forward with powerful kicks… That's when I made the call. No more weighing my options. No more hesitation. I abandon the idea of picking the perfect spell and instead hurl myself downward, deeper into the shaft.
I kick off the wall and slip through the murky water, chasing the faint glow ahead—the guiding light that leads through the winding corridors toward the next chamber. But even from down here, I can already see it—that grate's starting to descend too, grinding downward like a clock ticking toward doom… So I don't stop. Five seconds of air isn't worth the risk.
Instead, I push forward—pushing toward the next chamber, the one that should already be open by now. Where the others must still be there… caught in that brief window before the grate begins to fall again. But then—fingers clamp tightly around my ankle, yanking me back.
Damn it.
If I waste too much time dealing with all four of them here, I'll fall behind again. No—this has to end quickly.
As his other hand climbs up my leg, I curl my knees tight to my chest, aiming to meet him head-on before the boy gets the upper hand. I grab at his wrist, prying it off from my leg with every ounce of strength I can muster. Then I kick—hard—right at his face.
But down here, every part of my body feels heavy and sluggish, the water dragging against me with relentless resistance, dulling every ounce of power I try to push through.
Even when my foot slams into him with all the force I can muster, his expression doesn't change. Not even a twitch. It's the same blank, unshaken look he wore before—like my attack just now wasn't even worth reacting to. Like it didn't hurt at all.
So I switch up my approach… Bending my knee again to close the distance to his head, the boy's weak punches barely register and enough only for me to ignore them.
I'm focusing instead on locking his neck around the crook of my right knee, wedged tight against his throat while simultaneously resisting his struggles as I secure his arm with a strong grip in front of my chest. I twist his arm, aiming to dislocate the joint, forcing him to release the air trapped in his lungs.
However, the boy's just lucky—nothing more. Because he's not alone… One of his teammates suddenly grabs me from behind, wrapping his arm around my throat. While right in front of the three of us, I also spot Orion and yet another one of his allies swimming steadily closer, closing in like wolves.
So I decided to make a quick decision… For the few seconds we're all choking each other, I maneuver our positions, guiding us closer to the stone wall of the corridor. Then I slam the kid I've got locked up flat against one of the stone walls, pinning him there… For now, I ignore the arm choking me from behind. One target at a time. That's all I need to focus on.
Just like how offensive spells that manipulate projectile objects can also accelerate the caster's own body's velocity, I figure the same principle should apply if I cast Tzeryn on my foot mid-kick—aimed straight into the chest of the kid I've pinned to the wall.
That way I can force the breath right out of his lungs and launch myself backward at the same time using the recoil to propel myself backward toward the wall behind me.
The movement starts out slow, yes—but in the narrow heartbeat between spells, I unleash Ascendral Skaythe and ignite a sudden surge of velocity, turning my sluggish retreat into a violent burst of motion. The kid who's been serving as my cushion lets out a pained gasp as he slams into the stone wall, my back pressing hard into his chest. He doesn't fall, though. Somehow, he manages to hold his breath—but at the cost of releasing the chokehold his arm had around my neck.
And I have no issue with that… In fact, I use this chance to push myself forward, swimming toward the next opening. But once again… for the umpteenth time, I'm too slow. The grate has already dropped below the surface, leaving me with no space left to breathe—air, the one thing I need most at this very moment.
But I'm not alone in feeling this hopelessness… Orion and two of his teammates finally reach my position, their eyes locked on the grate that has long been sealed shut. They pound their fists against the cold metal surface, hoping that the old man up top will notice us and somehow help save our lives. But, of course, it's all in vain.
If we're truly trapped here, with only seconds of breath left, then we're clearly not the ones they want to make it out of this—those seven who will survive tomorrow.
And if only I could, then maybe I'd force myself to hold on just a little bit longer, at least for another five seconds, to watch the three in front of me die first before eventually doing something about this… But unfortunately, my situation is four times worse than I expected.
So with the little strength I have left, I extend my hand forward, palm facing down as if trying to grasp the entire water around me, forcing it to bow, to kneel before me.
I silently recite the incantation in my mind…
"Zareth Aqualis..."
Slowly, my hand begins to glow, and a rumble echoes from every direction. Orion and the others stare at me, powerless to understand what I'm actually doing.
After all, the grate above us doesn't budge—not even an inch—and our lungs find no relief, not even a sliver of it. Every stone wall around us remains solid, offering no gaps, no exit, no mercy. But soon enough… they'll figure it out.
Because the only thing that changes is the water. It begins to recede—slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, then faster—until, at last, our heads rise above the surface. And we all gasp, dragging in air like it's the first breath we've ever taken.
The relief that lasts for a while—long enough for silence to wrap around us like a second skin, clinging to every ragged, desperate breath… Both Orion's teammates stare at me like I'm something else entirely. One of them finally speaks, his voice brittle.
"Ice magic… water magic… movement manipulation… and a blast spell—cast back to back without a single word out of your mouth. Who the hell are you, Deon?"
But I don't answer.
My hands stay steady, my focus still locked on keeping the water held above our heads like an invisible dome. Only my eyes shift, glancing downward—toward the depths.
And there, in the gloom below, I catch it—faint light flickering through the network of tunnels, dim and distant… until it blinks, then shifts direction. The path's changed again. Another hole has just opened.
If I move now and follow that fading glow, it should take me straight to Garrik and the others. But from where I am, that route would take three minutes and forty-five seconds—just basically too long.
However, if I go for the third hole from that light source—the one that's still shut but next in line to open—if I don't waste a single movement without hitting any detours, then I should be able to reach it just in time. Maybe even faster than anyone.
The only problem is that I'll have to hold my breath for three—no, four full minutes, just to be safe. And that's no small amount of time.
But after what I just endured… after realizing I've never truly tested the edges of my limits until now… I start to wonder if this might actually be something I can do.
So with that bit of optimism in mind, I glance back at them—those three who, for some reason, have yet to make a move against me.
Their eyes are still wary, locked onto the faint glow pulsing from my hand—the same magic that's letting them breathe right now… Maybe that's what's holding them back. Or maybe they're still torn between two choices: follow the flickering trail of light like the others… or try to get ahead by picking an alternate route they're not even sure leads anywhere… something that I happen to know.
Whatever the reason, my mind is already made up.
Slowly, my spell begins to fade. The surface of the water rises again, inch by inch, until our heads are once more submerged—completely swallowed by the dark. Then, after the briefest pause, I kick off and surge forward, slipping into one of the pitch-black tunnel openings, one that doesn't lead to the currently open exit. And I know they saw it. They must've realized what I was doing. But to my surprise… none of them follow.
Instead, they swim toward the fading glimmer of light—the path that's about to shift again. Looks like they've made their decision too: to play it safe, avoid the gamble I just took… and honestly? That works out just fine for me.
After all, it's only a matter of time before that dreaded warning window flashes in front of me—my HP dangerously low, probably down to a single point left before it triggers. If they saw that, there wouldn't be a shred of hesitation left in them like before. They wouldn't think twice about finishing me off.
Leaving them behind while they still relied on me to survive… it was the right decision—one that matches the weight of the risk I'm taking now. I've been pushing through tunnel after tunnel for three relentless minutes and still haven't found the chamber. But if my memory serves me right… just three more turns. Three more, and I should be there.
At the very least, I thought that was the only problem I had to worry about. Just that.
But then… my palm, pressed against the tunnel wall, suddenly feels something. A tremor. Subtle at first—barely there—but it quickly escalates into a violent underwater quake.
The walls groan. Cracks splinter across the stonework—ceiling, walls, floor—everything around me begins to fracture. Sediment and buried earth surge upward, clouding the water, turning the entire chamber into a choking haze of silt and debris.
Still, I try to stay calm. I stop swimming, force myself to be still, and focus entirely on reigning in the surge of adrenaline pounding through my veins—my heartbeat's too loud because of it, too fast, burning through what little oxygen I have left.
But then it happens.
A chunk of stone breaks loose from the collapsing corridor above and crashes down against my back, knocking some of the air straight from my lungs. Just a gasp, but enough to undo everything I'd been struggling to hold together.
I don't think I'm hurt—at least, not seriously. I can't feel any sharp pain, no immediate tearing or blood in the water… But the shock alone is indeed more than enough to crack my composure. My body reacts before my mind catches up—panicked, desperate strokes through the murk, chest instinctively begging for air I can't give. I swim blindly through the darkness, arms reaching out, groping for anything solid to anchor my way forward.
One hand brushes against a junction, and I make a sharp turn, relying entirely on instinct, half-memory, and desperation to find the exit before it's too late.
~~~~~