Caria's tone was calm, focused. "Mist illusions shift sound and light… but not the air itself. Find the cold draft. That's the real passage."

Rhys nodded and placed his palm against the nearest wall.

Left side — warm.

Right side — cooler.

A faint, steady chill drifting past his fingers like a hidden breeze.

"This way," he said, turning right.

They moved as a group, slowly but surely.

As they walked, the whispers faded — replaced by a low hum, like distant chanting. The floor straightened. The walls stopped bending.

Sophia let out a small breath of relief. "It's stabilizing. Good sign."

Aria rolled her shoulders. "Good. Because one more liar-lizard jumps on me and I swear I'm burning this whole maze down."

"Please don't," Caria said. "Fog is flammable in here."

Rhys paused. "…Fog is flammable?"

"In this floor, everything is questionable," Caria answered simply.

Aria groaned. "This dungeon sucks."

But the deeper they moved, the more the illusion lost strength. The blue mist thinned. The distorted footstep echoes disappeared. Even the fake voices stopped whispering.

Finally, after what felt like fifteen minutes — or maybe five, time was unreliable here — the haze ahead brightened.

A faint yellow glow flickered between the mist.

"The exit," Rhys said.

Aria threw her arms up. "Floor two: DONE. Thank every goddess."

Sophia smirked. "Don't celebrate yet. The third floor is where people actually give up."

Caria nodded. "It separates the party. Each person faces their own path. Alone."

Aria immediately froze. "Wait—ALONE alone?!"

Rhys tightened his grip on Runius. "Then stay calm. No matter what happens."

Sophia asked, "What's the third-floor theme again?"

"Disorientation," Caria replied. "It tests resolve. Not strength, not skill. If someone panics or hesitates… the maze pulls them deeper."

Aria gulped. "Okay. New rule: nobody panics. Especially me."

Rhys stepped through the glowing archway first.

The moment he crossed, the world shifted like a curtain being pulled.

The others stepped through a split-second later—

And were gone.

Rhys spun around.

White emptiness.

No Aria.

No Caria.

No Sophia.

Just silence.

His voice echoed when he called out. "Guys?!"

Nothing.

No reply.

He breathed out slowly, steadying himself. "Alright. So this is how it works."

The third floor had begun.

Ahead, a long, narrow corridor stretched into the mist — straight but shifting slightly at the corners, like it was bending when no one looked.

Footsteps clicked softly on the stone.

Something moved in the distance.

Then a voice — familiar, but wrong — echoed faintly:

"Rhys… turn back."

He didn't.

He lifted Runius, kept his stance low, and walked forward.

Whatever this floor had for him, he would face it alone.

And somewhere else in the maze, Aria, Caria, and Sophia each found themselves in their own separate paths — the real trial finally beginning.

Aria blinked as the mist settled around her.She raised her staff. "Alright… whatever monster you are—come out!"

Nothing.

Then—

SNIFF.

A sharp inhale behind her.

Aria spun so fast she nearly tripped. "Who—?!"

Another inhale.Closer.

She paled. "Oh, that's rude. It's smelling me?"

Her greatest weakness wasn't fear.Wasn't hesitation.It was simple:

She had a terrible sense of smell.She couldn't track scents at all.

The dungeon knew.

A long, low growl slithered through the mist.A creature emerged — tall, skeletal, head lowered like a hunting dog, nostrils flaring violently.

A Mist Hound.

But this one was wrong — its nose was huge, distorted, twitching constantly.

It followed scents.Not sound.Not movement.

And Aria?

She couldn't tell where its scent-trails were.

"Ughhhh PERFECT," she groaned. "A monster that hunts by smell—when I can't smell anything! This dungeon hates me personally."

The Mist Hound sniffed the air sharply.

Aria froze.

It turned—

Not toward her voice.

Toward her sweat.

Toward her breath.

Toward her fear.

"Oh this is bullshit."She stepped backward—

The hound lunged.

Aria yelled, swinging her staff blindly—just barely deflecting it.

She didn't need smell.

She needed her sense of self, Caria's words echoing in her head:

Trust your body, not your senses.

Aria steadied her breathing.Ignored the whispers.Ignored the panic.

And let the creature come.

When it lunged again—

She didn't move in fear.

She moved in certainty.

Her strike cracked across its skull.

A second blow.A third.

The Mist Hound dissolved into smoke.

Aria smirked, panting hard. "Hah! Didn't need a nose to beat you!"

The path ahead lit up.

Caria stood in a perfectly straight hallway.

Silent.Still.Empty.

She drew her dagger slowly. "Alright. This floor targets our weaknesses. Mine is… overthinking."

The dungeon likes that, a voice whispered.

She tensed. "Show yourself."

A shape stepped out of the mist.

Her shape.

Caria.Same posture. Same clothes. Same calm eyes.

Caria narrowed her gaze. "A mimic?"

The copy tilted its head. "Not a mimic. A reflection."

It held a dagger too.

Caria's heartbeat quickened.

Her weakness wasn't fear.It was hesitation — analyzing too long, calculating too deeply.

Her double smiled coldly."You think too much. You consider every angle."

It rushed forward.

Caria blocked — barely.

The copy fought with her style.Her technique.Her timing.

Every move she planned—

The reflection executed faster.

Her chest tightened.Every analysis slowed her down.

The copy whispered:"You can't beat your own mind."

Caria inhaled deeply.

Then—

She stopped calculating.

Stopped thinking.

And moved.

Her real strength wasn't intellect.

It was instinct sharpened through discipline.

She stepped inside her double's guard—Ducked—And drove her dagger upward.

The reflection cracked like glass—Then shattered.

Caria exhaled, sweat dripping. "Analysis complete. Trial passed."

The fog opened.

Sophia found herself in a circular room.Her footsteps echoed once—Then stopped echoing entirely.

She froze. "The sound… disappeared?"

Her weakness was subtle but real:

She relies on sound more than she admits.Breathing. Footsteps. Echoes.Without sound, she hesitates.

A strange shape rippled through the mist — tall, thin, its body vibrating silently, absorbing sound like a void.

A Soundless Shade.

Sophia raised her staff.

The Shade didn't walk.

It flickered.

No sound.No steps.No warning.

It attacked—

SILENTLY.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.