I exhaled slowly, forcing my heartbeat to steady. The air in the collapsing chamber felt heavy, buzzing with leftover mana from the transformation.

Rune's words still echoed in my head. Their last ditch effort.

If we could overcome this… their capture was almost certain.

I tilted my head up, scanning the ceiling. The maze-like walls were still shifting and grinding against each other, but the ceiling...

...It hadn't moved at all.

That's when I sensed it. A faint hum in the air.

Thin, glowing blue threads extended from the ceiling, weaving downward like spider silk, all connecting and merging around the black-haired human.

The light wrapped around them, forming a translucent barrier that shimmered faintly every time mana pulsed through it.

My eyes widened. "That's the defense mechanism around the dungeon core!"

Rune nodded beside me, calm as ever. "That's right. Though it's made of mana, it auto-regenerates until we kill the boss monster."

He walked toward the sheath of his katana laying on the floor.

"But the boss monster is already dead," I said, confused.

"That's right again," he replied, his tone annoyingly casual for the situation we are in. "But it looks like he reassigned the boss monster's status, maybe to himself, or one of the orcs. My bet is he used that remote... uh, that metallic rectangle with buttons to do it."

I frowned, piecing it together. "Makes sense… he must've embedded the core's particles inside that thing. Then used the core's authority to transform the dungeon's structure."

"Exactly," Rune said, glancing at the glowing barrier. "But that also means the new 'boss monster' is inside that shield."

I clenched my daggers. "Then there's no way to break it from the outside…"

"Hmm." Rune straightened, adjusting his grip on his sword's sheath. He hooked it to his waist, his movements calm, confident, like someone about to test a theory that might just destroy the room.

He slid one foot back, lowering his stance. His left hand steadied the sheath while his right gripped the hilt.

Isn't that the stance for wide-swing slash? What's he trying to slash?

A low vibration filled the air... the hair on my skin stood straight.

What..?

Crimson sparks started flickering from his eyes.

The sheathed sword trembled at his hip as if it were breathing, waiting.

No.. it wasn't just Rune preparing to strike.

The sword itself was excited.

His fingers tightened around the hilt. "Let's do this," he whispered, exhaling sharply.

The seconds felt heavy. Each tick of time brought us closer to death from detonation.

But I didn't move. I just stood there, my eyes fixed on Rune.

Something in me told me, I'm about to see something I'd otherwise never get to see in my life.

Then.

Clink.

A soft metallic click rang out as Rune pushed the katana slightly from its sheath with his thumb.

It was such a small sound, yet it sliced through the air like thunder.

The atmosphere dropped.

A faint line of crimson light shimmered along the exposed edge of his blade, still mostly sheathed.

His body tensed all at once. Shoulders locked, muscles rigid.

Sweat began to roll down his temple. His breathing grew uneven, each exhale shaky, like he was struggling to keep something under control.

"Rune…" I called softly, a hint of worry slipping into my voice as I took a step toward him.

"Shh."

The sound was calm but commanding, and it froze me in place. His eyes never left the sword.

I swallowed, watching closely. The faint crimson shimmer began to pulse, brighter and faster.

Then it flared.

It wasn't fire. It was his aura.

The energy poured from the blade so dense it looked like real flames, swirling and writhing around the steel.

The air trembled with the force of it.

Screeeen..

Slowly, Rune drew the blade. Every inch of exposed steel made him struggle more.

His breathing grew rougher, as if he was pushing his lungs to match the pressure bursting from him.

The crimson aura thickened with every pull of the blade, until the light itself was sharp enough to cast his face in deep red.

His features were hard, focused, eyes burning, jaw clenched. He looked both terrifying and… strangely beautiful in that glow.

He reached the tip of the sheath. His body trembled once, every muscle locked, pouring out everything he had..

And then.

Poooff.

The crimson aura vanished in an instant.

No sparks. No glow. Nothing.

I blinked, stunned. "Huh?"

"Fucking shit…" Rune cursed under his breath, voice low and trembling with frustration.

He stared at his sword like it had just betrayed him. "Why is it so damn hard to control this aura? Is it because I barely have any to begin with?" He wasn't talking to anyone, just muttering to himself like he was losing his patience with the world.

"Are you giving us a color show before dying?" Drane's mocking tone came from behind the mana shield, a smug grin spread across his ugly face.

Rune clicked his tongue. "Tsk…"

He looked down at his unsheathed blade, eyes half-lidded but sharp. Then he took a deep breath and muttered, "Alright. No big deal."

When he turned toward me, the look in his eyes sent a strange chill down my spine.

"Lydia," he said calmly, "I'm switching on friendly fire."

"What does that even mean?" I frowned, confused and on edge, as time ticked down.

He tilted his head, thinking for a moment before answering, "You'll be fine. The output should just be novice-level aura, afterall."

I blinked at him. "What? Try to make sense, Rune!" My irritation flared, but he didn't answer. His focus was absolute now.

"No time," he said sharply, sliding his sword back into the sheath.

He took that same stance again, like a coiled blade ready to snap.

Huff..

He exhaled.

Clink.

Next thing I know, my head hung low as if smeone pressed it down.

My knees buckled.

"Huh..!?"

A shocked gasp tore from my throat as the weight crashed down on me. It wasn't physical… it was pressure. Pure aura pressing down like a mountain.

"Rune…?" My mind reeled. No way. This... this isn't novice aura!

My understanding of aura theory shattered right there. How could someone with such a small reservoir crush the air like this?

Purple light sparked around me as I flared my aura just to stay standing. My legs trembled under the weight, and I forced my gaze toward the enemies behind the mana shield.

"What the.." My words trailed off.

The black-haired human was already down, face pressed into the dirt, drool slipping from his mouth. He wasn't even conscious. Understandable, he had no aura at all.

Rack was next, on his knees, his grin long gone. His jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grind. Drane was barely upright, his knees shaking, his eyes wide in disbelief.

I turned back to Rune. He stood there, calm amidst the storm, crimson light blooming around him like wildfire.

Did he control all this pressure before, in his previous attempt?

The air trembled, and then his aura burst into life again, even brighter, even heavier.

"Hehe…" he smirked, and in the next instant..

Slash!

A single, wide arc of crimson light tore through the air.

It moved faster than my eyes could track. A blur.

The slash cut through the dungeon walls, leaving a glowing line of red that pulsed like lightning.

In a single flash multiple crimosn lightenings ran form the pulse.. spreading across the region above the slash. Like tendrils of thunder.

Crack.

Crunch.

The entire section of the dungeon above the slash had began to disintegrate.

Stone shattered into countless cubes, the cubes into further smaller ones, then into dust, until nothing remained.

And then... sunlight poured through.

Warm, golden light spilled over us as fresh air rushed in from above. The top of the dungeon was gone. Completely gone.

Tick… tuck…

Rune took a slow, shaky step toward me, his sword dragging slightly at his side. His voice was faint, his body swaying.

"I'll leave the interrogation of those three to you," he murmured, trying to smile, but he looked pale as death.

"Rune!" I called out, rushing forward as he stumbled.

He collapsed right into me.

My knees bent under the sudden weight, but I caught him, lowering us both slowly to the ground.

His head rested against my chest, his breathing steady but weak, his face calm, almost peaceful.

I looked past him at the orcs.

Drane and Rack were barely conscious, gasping for air like drowning men. The black-haired human lay still. The blue shield protecting them flickered, then vanished completely as the ceiling was gone.

I turned back to Rune, still cradled in my arms.

I couldn't believe what he just did.

The boy who had a bare minimum of aura had just erased part of a dungeon.

I brushed a strand of his silky black hair from his forehead. It fluttered softly in the new breeze drifting in through the open sky.

I tightened my hold around him.

I didn't know what he was... but one thing was certain.

He wasn't ordinary. Not even close.

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