Floor 51
The stairwell ended with waves of heat that hit Eron in the face as he stepped off the last stair.
Hovering Blaze drifted forward, its orange light spilling across jagged pillars of black stone, and beneath the cracked stone floor glowed faint red lines pulsing like rivers of fire. The heat pressed against his lungs, making every breath heavy, and sweat clung to him instantly.
The first roar shook the ground and echoed on the walls.
From the mist stepped lizard-beasts covered in black scales, each about the size of a wagon. Their eyes glowed orange, and with every step their claws carved grooves in the floor.
Eron raised his hand, sparks flickering across his palm. Breath steady. Muscles tight.
The nearest beast lowered its horned head and charged.
"Fireball Number Two, Piercer!"
A lance of compressed flame burst from his hand, drilling into the lizard's eye. It shrieked and collapsed, smoke rising from its skull.
The rest roared together and rushed at him.
Eron spun and ran toward higher ground, boots slipping on molten cracks. He leaped onto a ridge of broken stone and turned, sparks spiraling faster in his palm.
"Fireball Number Four, Split Bloom!"
The orb shot forward and split into three streaks of fire. One smashed into a beast's horn, snapping it sideways. Another slammed into its chest, exploding with a crack. The third hit a pillar, toppling stone onto the lizard pack.
The cavern shook. Smoke and dust filled the air.
When silence fell, Eron lowered his hand, chest heaving. His jacket stuck to his skin, his boots scuffed with soot, and he wiped sweat from his cheek with the back of his hand.
"One floor down. Nine to go."
Eron crouched beside one of the fallen beasts. The tail was thick with muscle, still steaming from the fight, he tried his pocket knife but the blade barely scratched the skin. He picked up a jagged rock nearby and struck again, nothing.
His eyes drifted to the hovering blaze floating beside him. The thought came slowly, then all at once, and he reached out, focusing, willing the flame to shift. It flickered, stretched, then collapsed back into a sphere. He tried again. The heat trembled in the air, forming a crooked shape before bursting apart.
Time passed in quiet failure.
Then, finally, the flame steadied. It thinned into a narrow edge, glowing white at the core, the rest burning steady and controlled.
The blade hovered above his hand, following the motion of his fingers, and he guided it down toward the tail.
A sharp hiss cut through the air as fire met flesh. Smoke curled upward, carrying the stench of burnt scale, and the heat shimmered around him, but he didn't flinch. Bit by bit, the flame sliced through until the piece came free.
He let out a slow breath, sweat sliding down his neck. "Guess that works," he muttered, then sighed. "Dinner's settled. I just hope it's not toxic." He shook his head. "Well, no choice. Better than starving."
He strapped the meat to his pack and moved on.
Floor 52
The air vibrated with shrill cries before he even saw them. Red-eyed bats poured from the ceiling, wings slicing through the dark.
Eron winced at the noise and covered his ears.
"Damn, it's too loud."
He braced his stance as sparks gathered in his palm.
"Fireball Number Three, Scatterburst!"
The fireball shattered midair, spraying burning pellets through the swarm. Dozens of wings caught fire, and bats fell screaming, their bodies smoking as they hit the ground.
But more came, diving low.
"Fireball Number Four, Split Bloom!"
Three flaming orbs curved wide, exploding among the bats. Ash fell thick.
A shadow moved across the floor. Eron turned just in time to see long-legged spider-creatures crawling from the tunnels, their shells dripping acid.
"Giant spiders now?"
One lunged. Eron sidestepped, but its claw grazed his side, tearing cloth and skin, and blood ran hot down his ribs. He hissed, sparks roaring to his palm.
"Fireball Number Two, Piercer!"
The lance of fire punched straight through its head, bursting it apart, and the others scattered back into the dark.
But Eron didn't let them go.
"I've had enough of this."
He sprinted after the nearest one, sparks flaring around his arm as he fired again.
Another fireball struck the fleeing spider's back, burning through its shell and pinning it to the wall. The creature screeched once before collapsing, its legs curling in.
Silence returned, broken only by the faint crackle of dying flames.
The stench hit him next, burnt shell and smoke, thick and bitter in the air.
Eron winced, covering part of his face.
"Ugh, disgusting."
The smell burned his nose and clung to his throat, heavy and sharp.
He took a slow breath through his teeth, forcing himself to move. Pain pulsed from his side with every step, and he pressed a hand against the wound, grimacing.
"Better clean this before it gets infected."
He looked around for a safe spot and moved toward a flat patch of rock near the wall. The air was still hot, but at least it was quiet, he set down his pack and searched through it, pushing aside dirty clothes and a few empty ration packs until he found a small first-aid kit.
"Good thing I packed this," he muttered, pulling out a roll of bandage and a small vial of antiseptic.
Floor 53 – The Maze of Stone
He entered a maze.
Stone corridors twisted in endless loops, walls rising high, ceilings dripping with glowing moss. His flame floated close, its light flickering over rough walls that almost seemed alive.
The first tremor came from the left passage.
A deep thud. Then another.
The wall cracked open as a massive golem stepped through, its body glowing faintly from within. Orange light pulsed through the gaps in its stone skin with every movement, like something burning beneath.
Eron steadied his breath.
The creature raised its fist and swung. He jumped aside, the impact scraping his shoulder and tearing skin, and he hissed, sparks flaring to his hand.
"Fireball Number Two, Piercer!"
The lance drilled into the golem's chest, leaving a glowing hole, but it didn't stop. The cracks across its body only flared brighter, molten light crawling outward.
It raised both arms to strike again.
"Fireball Number Four, Split Bloom!"
Three orbs shot forward, exploding across its torso. Chunks of burning rock scattered, and the golem collapsed with a heavy crash, the light inside dimming to black.
Eron barely had time to breathe before the ground trembled again.
From the opposite corridor stepped another golem, larger, its surface covered in dull blue crystal instead of glowing cracks. Cold mist trailed from its body, and the air around it dropped sharply.
Eron clenched his teeth. "You're kidding me."
The creature slammed its fists together, sending a shockwave that froze part of the floor. Eron slipped but caught himself, rolling to the side.
"Fireball Number Three, Scatterburst!"
The pellets burst across its chest, melting the frost but barely slowing it down.
He dove behind a fallen pillar, mana burning through his veins. "Fine. Let's try this."
"Fireball Number Seven, Reverse Burn!"
The flame pulled inward first, dragging the golem off balance. Around it, the scattered fires from earlier spells began to stir, flames crawling across the floor and walls, drawn toward the creature like metal to a magnet. One by one they clung to its rocky surface, seeping into every crack that glowed faintly with mana.
Eron closed his hand.
The fires tightened.
Heat folded inward, trapped by invisible pressure. The stone began to pulse and strain as the energy built inside, the light dimming for a breath as if the world held still.
Then he opened his hand.
The seal broke.
The compressed fire erupted from within the golem's body, bursting through its cracks in pillars of deep orange flame. A shockwave followed a split second later, rolling through the corridor with a heavy roar, and fragments of molten crystal shot outward in every direction, slamming into walls and scattering across the floor. The heat rippled through the air, and the corridor blazed with a harsh red glow as the remains of the golem collapsed into molten rubble.
Eron hit the wall hard. His vision blurred, his shoulder bleeding.
He tried to stand, but another sound echoed through the maze, heavy footsteps, steady and slow.
A third golem emerged from the dark. Its stone was darker than the others, smooth and seamless, moving faster, more deliberate. It didn't glow or freeze the air, it simply moved like something alive.
Eron took a slow breath, sweat running down his jaw. "Stronger than the rest... great."
The golem charged.
"Fireball Number Two, Piercer!"
The flame shot straight into its chest. The creature staggered, light flickering faintly inside its core before it shattered in a burst of dust and smoke.
Eron exhaled, realizing how close it was, he'd hit the core by pure luck.
When the echoes faded, Eron was down on one knee, chest rising and falling fast. Blood ran down his side, mixing with dust.
He leaned against the wall, catching his breath. "Only three of them, and I'm already tired."
He stumbled until he found a narrow alcove where the maze wall dipped near a moss-lit spring. The water glowed faint blue, fed by trickling streams from above.
Eron dropped his pack with a grunt. He stripped his ruined jacket, cut strips of cloth, and used the remaining bandages to wrap his new wounds. As he worked, he felt the familiar tingle in his injuries. The tunnel moss had permanently changed his body, giving him enhanced healing, and the cuts had already begun to close, but not fast enough to help in a fight.
He rinsed blood from his face in the spring, shivering at the shock of cool water.
The Hovering Blaze floated nearby, casting a warm glow.
From his pack, Eron pulled out the lizard tail. He formed a small spell in his hand, shaping his Hovering Blaze into a narrow blade of fire, and with calm precision, he cut the meat into chunks, skewered them on a metal rod, and let the flame's heat cook them until the fat sizzled. The smell was sharp and strange, but it was food.
He bit into it, grimacing at the chewy texture. "Tastes like burned rubber." He chewed anyway, swallowing hard.
He filled his kettle with the glowing spring water, boiling it over his flame. It looked clean, but he wasn't taking chances.
When the steam rose, he drank deep, sighing at the warmth in his chest.
He leaned against the wall, muscles aching, side throbbing. His flame hovered nearby, spinning slowly, and his wounds were closing, not fast enough to fight again, but enough to keep him breathing.
"I'm tired," he whispered, letting his head rest against the cold stone.
The glow from his flame swayed gently on the ceiling until his eyes shut, and the world faded to quiet.
Three Days Later – Floors 54–55
The next stretch became about survival.
Floor Fifty-Four smelled of decay. Slimes the size of wagons rose from stagnant pools, and he burned them with fireballs, but their acidic spray left new scars across his forearms. The tunnel moss helped, but acid burns healed slower than cuts.
Floor Fifty-Five was worse. Packs of lizard men roamed the tunnels, their scales glowing faint red from the heat. They carried crude stone blades that steamed each time they struck the ground, and their eyes burned with a dull hunger.
One swung its weapon, the impact cracking the floor beside him. Another's tail lashed out, catching Eron across the side and knocking the air from his lungs. He hit the ground hard, gasping, and rose only because sparks still gathered at his palms.
Eron staggered back, chest burning from the heat and the pain. The lizard men hissed and closed in, forming a loose circle around him, and their weapons glowed faint orange, heat warping the air between them.
He clenched his jaw and forced himself upright. "Fine," he muttered. "Let's finish this."
Sparks gathered in his hand, swirling faster.
"Fireball Number Four, Split Bloom!"
Three bursts shot outward, striking the ground around them. The explosions filled the tunnel with smoke and flame, and Eron moved through it, kicking one creature aside as another lunged. The heat clawed at his skin, but he didn't stop until the last flame burned out.
Silence returned, broken only by the slow drip of molten rock from the ceiling. The air stank of scorched scales.
He wiped the sweat from his face, coughing through the haze. "That's enough for today."
By the end of the third day, his clothes were in tatters. His arms were wrapped in bandages dark with dried blood, and his body was covered in healing gashes and fading bruises.
But his flames still burned. His light still followed.
And he was still alive.
By the time he reached the next stairwell, his steps were slow and heavy. The air began to cool, and his breath came easier. Frost lined the stone ahead.
He stopped for a moment, staring at the faint white mist drifting from the next floor. The Hovering Blaze dimmed beside him, its light flickering as if unsure how to handle the sudden drop in temperature.
Eron gave it a tired look and a weak grin. "Guess we're not done yet, huh?"
He took one deep breath and stepped forward.
The warmth behind him faded. The cold swallowed the air ahead.