Stopping in the previous room, I eyed the staircase against the far wall and frowned. “That doesn’t… seem right.”

  The staircase itself looked normal enough, but a section of the wall beside it had been removed, exposing yet another hidden mechanism.

  Clover studied it, then shook her head, incredulity creeping into her expression. “Warwick wasn’t kidding about this dungeon being advanced. That staircase was hidden. And look at the floor there.”

  I followed her finger and squinted at the barely visible holes dotting the stone. “Another trap?”

  She nodded. “Not just any trap—it’s linked to the staircase. Given how clean the stairwell is, I’d bet the way down was concealed. This trap was designed so that even if you found the button to reveal the passage, pressing it would trigger something from those holes.”

  A fresh wave of unease prickled through me. “Is that why Warwick didn’t argue when Haltir insisted on coming here?”

  Clover tilted her head, considering. “Possibly. Traps like this are common in high-tier dungeons, and even with my perception, we wouldn’t have been able to safely disarm them. From here on out, we’ll need to be careful—just in case Haltir missed one.”

  I nodded, following her onto the third floor.

  The room we entered was, thankfully, empty of monsters and traps. But the sheer nothingness made my skin crawl.

  The odds of walking onto a pressure plate that released poison gas were uncomfortably high. I could handle a lot of things, but that? That was beyond me. My best course of action would be to grab Clover and run—assuming the room wasn’t rigged to lock us inside.

  “I hate traps…” Clover muttered, dragging me back to the present as she carefully checked the walls.

  “I’m right there with you,” I grumbled, exhaling in relief when we made it through unscathed. “Especially the ones that might fill a room with gas. I happen to like breathing, and if it’s all the same to the spirits, I’d prefer to continue doing so for as long as possible.”

  Clover raised a brow, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. “I’d never have guessed. Though, to your credit, you haven’t thrown yourself into anything dangerous in the last ten minutes.”

  I huffed playfully, nudging her side as we entered the next room. “I promised I’d be on my best behavior, didn’t I?”

  She opened her mouth to retort, eyes sparkling—then froze.

  I barely stopped myself from colliding with her, my own gaze locking onto the scene ahead.

  Mountains of monster corpses lined both sides of the room. Everything from spiders to slimes had been reduced to heaps of charred remains, scorch marks covering nearly every surface.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I shook my head, equal parts awed and unsettled. “His weapon does the damage of a mid-level fire spell… without using mana.”

  That was both impressive and terrifying. If he ever turned it against innocents, the consequences would be devastating.

  Clover grimaced, picking her way through the bodies toward the only door on the far side. “Let’s hope that weapon schematic never lands in the mad king’s hands. His troops would be unstoppable.”

  I hadn’t even considered that. If Lazaris caught wind of this, he’d slaughter entire towns to claim it.

  My stomach churned at the thought, visions of Dawncrest and Starkfell burning flashing through my mind. I shoved them aside. When we caught up to Haltir, I’d strongly suggest a little more subtlety with his weapon—for his sake and the rest of Nexus.

  We were only a yard from the door when my boot sloshed through something. Expecting monster guts, I glanced down—then froze at the sight of fresh blood.

  It could have belonged to a monster, but… Haltir’s weapon cauterized wounds.

  “Clover.” I nodded toward the puddle.

  Her expression darkened as she crouched, exhaling sharply through her teeth. “It’s not monster blood.” Straightening, she rolled her shoulders, eyes hard. “It was only a matter of time before the idiot got himself injured. Let’s move. There’s not much, but even a minor wound can turn the tide if he’s ambushed again.”

  I nodded and picked up the pace—only for a muffled bang to sound ahead.

  The noise was like the scorpions' blasts, but… different. Different in a way that made my instincts scream.

  Clover’s expression hardened. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’ve just about caught up to Haltir. We might get to see that weapon of his in action soon.” She strode toward the door, her grimace deepening. “Judging by the damage it’s done so far, let’s make sure he knows it’s us before we step inside.”

  Considering the hole still in my armor—and the possibility that his weapon could punch through my chestplate like paper—I wholeheartedly agreed.

  We fell silent, our pace quickening as we followed the faint blood trail through a winding hallway and down another staircase to the fourth floor.

  More monster corpses were stacked in the corner, another puddle of blood beside them, but before Clover could do more than glare at it, a sharp cry of pain echoed from the hall to our left.

  I exchanged a glance with Clover. At her nod, I led the way.

  The corridor stretched longer than the others, its distant light growing stronger with each step. When we reached the threshold, I peered inside—

  And cursed.

  A massive snake, its body wrapped in jagged thorns, had Haltir in its coils.

  He was a lean man with short brown hair and a pair of goggles perched atop his head. From this angle, I caught a glimpse of red staining his arm—but then the snake reared back, its long, dagger-sized fangs poised inches from his face.

  Across the room, Haltir’s whiskey-colored eyes locked onto mine.

  Then they flicked to Clover.

  His surprise melted into irritation, and he bellowed, “Took your sweet time showing up, didn’t you?!”

  Okay, first of all—rude. He was the one who insisted on going alone. This was entirely on his own head.

  Scold him over his callous words toward your lover later, my spirit chimed in. I reluctantly agreed, refocusing on the snake.

  Once we got him out of this mess, Clover would no doubt give him an earful anyway.