Traces of the Survivor

…
While Joseph pressed deeper into the maze, unaware of the happenings elsewhere in the dungeon, Han Ha-Sun was making moves of his own.

Huff… Huff…

Panicked breaths echoed down a corridor. A bloodied figure stumbled into a wide chamber, sprinting past two massive doors toward the exit opposite.

A blade cut through the darkness. With a sharp hiss it pierced straight into the runner’s chest, staggering them. Somehow still alive, they turned—only to see Han step into the light, face streaked with blood, eyes cold and merciless.

Before words could form, Han’s second sword flashed. The body crumpled, head severed clean.

He exhaled slowly, relief etched into the motion. Seconds later, Logan and Che appeared, battered but alive.

“Ya get him cap?”

Han glanced at the corpse. “Yes. Ming’s dead. It’s over. The camp can breathe again. Sorry I left you to deal with the others—I trusted you’d manage.”

Che grinned, twirling her staff in an exhausted but playful manner. “Of course, Brother Han. A few blasts of magic and they were done.”

Logan scowled. “A few blasts? Those damn blasts hit me more than them!”

They bickered briefly before trailing after Han. His attention had shifted. At the far side of the chamber, his gaze fixed on something disturbing.

Two wide craters scarred the floor. Bone fragments, nearly fully broken down into the dungeon floor, littered the area. Han began to climb the towering wooden door, eyes narrowing as he reached the top.

Logan and Che followed, silently seeing his tense expression, pulling themselves up onto the scaffolding. What they saw drained the color from their faces.

Stacks of corpses. Rukvar bodies piled high, blood drained into angled troughs, flesh stripped from some. Signs of battle were everywhere. Han stood tense, his thoughts racing.

'Impossible! Who could have done this? Rukvar aren’t simple prey to just massacre—at our level, no one should manage this alone, even with a group, it would be near impossible this soon.

Yet someone has been living here, killing them one by one. Some were pierced by these metal rods, others shot by arrows? And those… fire magic.’

His eyes fell on a chilling sight: several bodies speared straight through, clean holes cutting down their length.

'No spear could do this. Even Che couldn’t burn a Rukvar to death at this stage and im confident in saying she’s by far one of the most talented fire mages I’ve ever seen. Damage them, yes—but kill? No way. Whoever this is has power far beyond what should be possible at the moment.'

Scattered stones caught his eye—clearly conjured, not natural debris.

'Earth magic too. A bow user, with strong fire and earth abilities. None like that should exist in this timeline. Has the future changed already?'

He studied the corpses again.

'The first is fully desiccated—whoever did this has been here a long while. They drained blood as if for water, skinned hides for supplies. This wasn’t a random attack. This was survival.'

Han’s thoughts tangled.

'Where are they now? They can’t have ever been to camp, I would have noticed someone like this. They must already be in the labyrinth.'

Che and Logan looked unsettled as they took it all in. Han muttered, “At least the missing Rukvar are explained. This person killed the others; we must have slain the last.”

Looking at the wall he saw a marked circle around a single tally, separate from the rest, almost like it had yet to be counted.

The silence dragged until Logan’s eyes widened. “Cap… I think I know who it was.”

Both Han and Che turned sharply. “How?!”

Logan frowned as memories resurfaced. “Back at the start, when you were checking your status, I saw some guy climb the wooden door. Western, most likely. Brown hair, bigger build—though not as big as Arjun. Plain clothes. Didn’t see a weapon.”

Han searched his memories but found nothing. His brow furrowed and jaw tightened. The implications were dangerous.

Aloud, he said, “If that man is ahead of us, he’s already entered the labyrinth. There’s a chance we’ll meet him there.

If possible, we should try to build friendly ties. But…” His eyes hardened. “We’ll prepare for the worst. Judging by this carnage, if he’s hostile, even surviving an initial confrontation may be a challenge. Let’s head back and prepare just a bit more…”

He clearly had more to say, but he held himself back upon seeing the nervous expression of Che after she noticed the flame magic. The three descended in silence, unease clinging to them as they returned to camp—preparing for the labyrinth ahead.

…