Sylvie moved like smoke through the dark.
Steel met flesh in brutal silence as her blade slipped between the ribs of the Voidspawn ahead, black ichor steaming as it hissed against her runeblade. She pivoted, ducked, and swept the beast's legs in a single movement. It hit the ground. One final stab through its pulsing core, and the monster went still.
Another one down.
She stood, chest rising with quiet, controlled breaths.
The beasts here were stronger. Faster. Not like the corrupted strays and low-rank fodder at the dungeon's mouth. These were elite-tier Voidspawn—ravenous, warped, with fangs like barbs and armor that shimmered with cursed essence.
Sylvie wiped her blade on the creature's fur and moved on, her eyes locked on the corridor ahead. She didn't have time to rest. The dungeon's energy was shifting—growing denser. She was close to the sanctum now. The boss chamber couldn't be far.
But her movements weren't as crisp as before.
Her limbs ached faintly. Her last kill took longer. The ambush just two chambers ago had nearly grazed her shoulder—something she would've scoffed at before. Now, she felt it. Every second, every breath mattered.
Her pace slowed.
And with it came the gnawing thought:
They're catching up.
She didn't need to see them to know. The echo of battle behind her, faint but steady, was enough. They were pushing forward too—Liora and Reynar. Together.
Sylvie clicked her tongue in frustration and picked up speed.
If they interfere… if they touch the core… She didn't finish the thought.
Because it meant failure.
And failure meant punishment.
The memory resurfaced like bile—her arms bruised from bindings, ribs broken from a failed raid. Her master's voice, calm and cold: No food. No rest. Not until you make up for the loss.
She hadn't failed since.
And she wouldn't now.
Sylvie burst through the next corridor, blades drawn. Three Voidspawn snarled in unison—twisted canine forms with jagged exoskeletons and stitched mouths. Her eyes narrowed.
They charged.
So did she.
The first fell to a clean arc across the throat, the second to a low thrust under its jaw. But the third—larger, smarter—dodged. It clipped her leg with a taloned claw, shredding leather and skin. Pain flared white-hot.
She stumbled. Only a fraction. But enough.
The beast lunged for her throat—
A shimmer of silver light burst from her gauntlet. A hidden rune. The creature froze mid-air, convulsing.
Sylvie didn't hesitate. She drove both blades into its chest and twisted until it stopped twitching.
Silence.
She stood there for a moment, breathing hard, golden eyes wide. Blood ran down her calf. She reached into her satchel for a salve, ignoring the sting as she poured it over the wound.
Sloppy. Stupid. You're better than this.
But she knew why.
She was rushing.
Because they were close.
Liora and Reynar. The boy with the kind eyes. The girl with the quiet strength. They weren't supposed to be here. They didn't belong in this part of the rift.
And yet, they kept coming.
Sylvie took a shaky breath and leaned against the wall of the tunnel, listening for more movement. None yet. But the void energy was thicker now. The final chamber was just ahead. She could feel it like a heartbeat under the stone.
Almost there.
She needed to get the boss kill first. The core. The loot. That was the quota.
That was her freedom.
She rose again and limped forward, silently cursing the pain, the delay… and the flicker of unease building in her chest. Not fear of the monsters.
But of being interfered.
If Reynar and Liora reached the sanctum and interrupted her solo mission of clearing the dungeon, what would her master think of her performance? What would he do? What would happen to the freedom she longed for?
She wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
So she pressed on, deeper into the dark.
And behind her, the sound of distant battle echoed once more—closer this time.