Chapter 13 - Intrusion

Floor twenty-five, City of Kole

Renji was asleep in his room at the inn when an unfamiliar voice woke him.

He sat up, eyes darting around the darkened space. A glowing humanoid figure hovered in the centre of the room. The glow prevented him from seeing any facial features or clothes.

“Renji. I’ve finally found you,” it said.

He froze. “Wh—what? Who—what are you?” His voice cracked with confusion.

“I am what some call the Spirit of the Labyrinth.”

“The what?”

“There’s no time to explain everything. I need your help.”

“On Floor Twenty?” he asked, trying to process.

“No. That’s merely a minor revolt. I speak of the monsters from the deeper floors. They are stirring.”

Renji’s brows drew together. “When?”

“I cannot say. They are still gathering strength. Maybe months, or a year.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So why me? I’m not even from this world. Hell, can you send me back?”

“It is because you are not of this world that I can do this.”

The spirit’s voice softened. “I’ve arranged a gift. I sense a righteous heart within you. What you do with it is your choice—but I trust you’ll follow the right path.”

A hum filled the air.

“My time is short. If you seek answers, look for the World Tree.”

“World Tree? What’s that?” he asked.

The glowing figure began to fade. A crystal—the one Renji had recovered from the hellhound on Floor Nineteen—rose into the air, glowing faintly.

“What the...” Renji muttered.

“We will speak again,” the voice whispered.

The crystal drifted towards his chest. He felt a pulse of warmth as it phased into his body. Heat radiated from the point of contact, spreading through his limbs like a slow fire.

He woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat, breathing heavily.

Hand pressed to his chest, he felt a faint warm pulse beneath the skin. Slowly, it faded.

He stumbled to his pack. The crystal was gone.

***

After breakfast, the pair were walking through Kole’s central market. The streets bustled with stall vendors hawking their wares, and the air was filled with the mingled smells of spiced meats, grilled vegetables, and fresh bread.

Renji found himself thinking about the strange dream from the night before.

Spirit of the Labyrinth? What was that about? Where did the crystal go? Is it really inside me? What does it even do?

While he could understand the language with the help of the translation stone, Alina still did most of the talking and haggling. After asking around, they were directed to an armour-smith who could work with the hellhound hide.

“Hellhound from Floor Nineteen, huh? Haven’t seen this in a while,” the smith said, unrolling the pelt across his workbench. “There’s enough here for two cloaks. That’ll be eighty silver for the pair. Come back in four days. Pay me then.”

“All right, we’ll be back in four days,” Alina agreed.

Happy with the price—as they had a comfortable stash of coin—they left the shop.

“So, we’ve got four days to take it easy,” Alina said as they walked through the market. “What do you want to do, Renji?”

“Maybe some clothes that don’t stand out?”

Renji’s black combat fatigues still drew attention. He wanted to at least change the top—he figured the trousers and boots were less conspicuous.

They spent the morning picking out a new dark blue tunic for Renji. They also found a bookshop and traded in the old beginner-level books for more advanced ones to help with his language practice.

At midday, they were seated at a street-side table in a quieter part of the market. The sight of a whole roast on a spit had caught Alina’s attention, and she insisted they stop there for lunch.

“What do you know about how the Labyrinth was created?” Renji asked as the food arrived.

Alina tapped a finger to her chin. “Hmm… there aren’t any recorded accounts I’ve seen. Just old myths and stories. Supposedly, some catastrophe struck the surface, and the people were led underground. That’s all I know. Why the sudden interest?”

Renji glanced at the market street, busy with patrons and merchants. “The way everything is put together doesn’t feel natural. Safe areas every five floors, and teleportation circles between them. Like there’s some kind of thought process behind the design. Even on this floor, the position of the circles feels intentional—like someone wanted to funnel traffic and herd people into designated living spaces.”

“Yes, it does feel that way, doesn’t it?” Alina nodded. “The portal to Twenty is on one end, and the portal to Thirty is on the other. Probably why the huge market is here, between the two circles.”

Renji considered asking what Rovan or the Duke meant when they said the Labyrinth was dying, but he held back.

Her mood seems better. Maybe I should leave it for now. I’ll ask the sage, if we get the chance.

“You seem more confident now—when fighting monsters,” Renji said, shifting the topic.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve never been one for fighting monsters. I spend most of my time researching non-elemental magic. I use it on farms, wells, and other tasks to make some coin. I’d hunt frogs on Fourteen whenever I needed more crystals,” Alina replied.

“But that move you pulled, back when we escaped from prison—when you distracted the guard and tossed me his sword. That didn’t look like someone who was uncomfortable,” Renji said, recalling the incident.

Alina chuckled shyly. “That was an act of desperation. I knew I had to distract him somehow, or we’d be dead. He took his hand off his sword at just the wrong time. Though… it was the first time I’d seen someone die up close, now that I think about it.”

Renji placed a hand on the hilt at his belt. It was the same sword Alina had tossed to him that day.

“You’re way better with that sword now, too,” Alina said.

“Yeah. Once I could read the manual—thanks to you—it started to come together. Not the same as an actual instructor, but it’s better than nothing.”

“That sword looks like it’s seen better days. Let’s get you a better one.”

“Sure. A trip to a weapons shop sounds good. If the monsters are going to be tougher on Thirty-Six and beyond, we should be better equipped,” Renji nodded.

I’m running out of ammunition for the carbine. Melee combat will be the way to go.

After finishing their meal, they returned to the inn for another language session.

***

As they reached the upper floor of the inn, Renji stopped cold.

A familiar figure stood outside Alina’s room.

Renji’s eyes narrowed as he drew his sword. The sidearm was too loud—they didn’t need the attention.

Alina froze beside him. “Rovan…” Her voice was sharp with anger. “How did you find us?”

Rovan raised his hands in a disarming gesture. “The translation stone. It’s part of a matched pair. I have the other half, remember?”

Renji pulled the stone from his pocket and tossed it towards him.

“I came to talk. I’m glad you’re alive, Alina,” Rovan continued.

“There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” Alina snapped. She began an incantation. A jagged ice lance formed in front of her outstretched hand.

“Please, Alina. Calm down. We don’t have to fight. The Duke—or Yarren—doesn’t want you dead. Renji, however…”

“What?” Her voice rose, fury burning in her eyes. “Renji hasn’t done anything wrong! He needs to die? After everything we saw on Floor Twenty—after what your Duke did to those people? There’s no way I’ll support that kind of tyranny!”

The ice lance shot toward Rovan. He raised a magic barrier just in time—both projectile and shield shattered with a sharp, crystalline crack.

Renji heard a floorboard creak behind them.

He spun around. A cloaked figure stood mid-throw—dagger already in flight.

“Alina—!”

He shoved her aside. The dagger whistled past and embedded itself in the wall where she had been standing.

The assailant lunged forward, drawing a short sword.

Renji stepped in, placing himself between Alina and the attacker. He blocked the first flurry of strikes, reading the attacker’s rhythm—waiting for a mistake.

Then it came.

The assailant overcommitted on a thrust. Renji sidestepped, slammed his boot into the man’s right knee with a sickening crack, and drove his sword up through the exposed throat.

The body collapsed, sliding off the blade.

Renji turned back—Rovan was gone.

“We need to get out of here. Grab your things.” He nudged Alina toward her room and sprinted to his own.

They met back in the corridor, packs in hand, and fled into the night.

After weaving through several back streets, Renji slowed.

My head... feels heavy... Why does my chest feel so tight? Am I having a heart attack? An asthma attack?

“Renji!” Alina grabbed his arm. “What’s wrong? You’re pale—”

Her eyes widened. His sleeve was soaked in blood.

“Poisoned blade…” she muttered.

She quickly scanned the nearby buildings. Spotting what she was looking for, she asked, “Can you walk just a little more? There’s an apothecary nearby.”

He nodded, but the world around him was already starting to tilt.

He followed her blindly, barely aware of where he was going—only that someone was pulling him forward.