Austin stared after the fleeing group until their footsteps faded.

  Only then did he turn back to her, still processing the moment.

  "Okay," he said slowly, "why did you stop me?"

  Selene gave him a look like the answer was obvious. Like the question itself was silly.

  "Why would I let my master even touch trash like that?" she said.

  Then her smile returned—lighter now, playful again—and she tilted her head.

  "Also," she added, eyes glinting, "their Toughness stat was too low. I didn't want to risk you splattering them across the wall."

  She winked.

  Austin's gaze drifted to his fist, still half-clenched, the knuckles tight from the fight he'd almost started.

  He swallowed.

  Huh… she might've been right.

  If Selene's stat is only thirty and she still launched that guy like he weighed nothing… then one good punch from me—

  The image flashed in his mind. A body hitting stone. A sick crunch. Blood.

  Austin's stomach tightened. He wasn't eager to add "accidental murder" to his list of dungeon achievements.

  He exhaled slowly and flexed his hand until the tension eased.

  Selene turned toward the stairs as if nothing had happened. As if knocking a man unconscious was just another step in the day's training.

  "Now," she said brightly, fingers reaching for his again, "shall we?"

  Austin let her take his hand.

  The stairway waited behind her—spiraling downward into darker cold, into monsters with sharper beaks and quicker claws.

  But for the first time since entering the dungeon that day, Austin didn't feel like he was walking toward death alone.

  He felt like he was walking beside someone who could turn the world itself into a wall if it got in their way.

  ***

  With the path finally clear, Austin and Selene moved toward the staircase. The four idiots and their unconscious "leader" were already gone, but the tension they'd left behind still clung to the air like smoke after a fire. The dungeon didn't care about ego or embarrassment—it simply waited, patient and hungry.

  As they approached the opening, the temperature dropped another few degrees. The stone under Austin's boots felt slicker here, as if the dungeon's deeper breath dampened everything it touched. Cold air poured up from below in slow, steady currents, crawling under his collar and raising goosebumps along his arms.

  And then he heard it.

  Chirps.

  Not the cute kind that belonged to birds in trees back home. These were sharper. Thinner. Too rhythmic. Too many of them layered together, echoing up the stairwell like a warning siren made of tiny throats.

  Austin peered down into the dark spiral. The stairs curved out of sight almost immediately, swallowed by shadow. The smell changed too—less of the familiar damp stone and more of something musky, faintly sour, like feathers wet with blood.

  He swallowed.

  "Are those types of interactions normal here?" he asked, voice quieter than he meant it to be. He glanced back toward the main chamber, half expecting the Zondick Clan to come charging back with reinforcements and wounded pride. "Because that was one of the most textbook bully moments I've ever seen."

  Selene didn't even look bothered. She stepped closer to the stairs like she was approaching a stage, not a place that could chew them up. "More often than you'd think," she replied, tone casual. "They're just prideful and arrogant adventurers whose factions encourage that behavior."

  She looked over her shoulder at him, eyes calm, almost amused.

  "At least," she added, "until they run into people like us to put them in their place."

  Austin let out a slow breath through his nose. The way she said people like us made it sound like a fact, not a hope. Like she'd already decided they belonged above the ones who shoved, sneered, and blocked stairways to feel powerful.

  Before Austin could respond, Selene suddenly grabbed his arm.

  Her fingers closed around him—not painful, but decisive—and she yanked him forward with an excited little burst of energy, like she couldn't wait another second.

  "Selene—" Austin started, startled as his boots hit the first step.

  She didn't slow. Her pace actually picked up, light and quick, as if the dark below was calling her name and she was eager to answer.

  Austin stumbled once, then caught his balance, letting her tug him deeper.

  "Well," he said with a half laugh that came out slightly breathless, "remind me never to get on your bad side."

  The chirps echoed louder now. The air grew colder. Every step down felt like descending into a throat.

  "With your Strength at thirty and my Toughness at fifteen," he continued, trying to keep his tone joking even as his senses sharpened, "my ass would hit a wall so fast I wouldn't even have time to blink."

  Selene slowed.

  Not suddenly—just enough that the shift felt intentional. Like she wanted him to hear her next words without the distraction of hurried footsteps.

  Her expression softened. The playful edge drained away, replaced by something quieter. Something almost… careful.

  "I would never even consider striking you, Austin," she said.

  The sincerity in her voice hit him harder than the cold.

  Austin's chest warmed, a small flare of comfort spreading through him, absurdly out of place in this damp spiral of stone. He'd met people in this world who smiled like knives, who treated others like tools or stepping stones. Selene had teased him, flirted with him, threatened to "heal him" with a grin sharp enough to cut.

  But when she said this, it didn't feel like a line.

  It felt like a promise.

  Austin's mouth opened—some awkward attempt at a response forming—

  And then Selene's expression shifted.

  Like a curtain dropping.

  The softness melted into something slow and sultry, her eyes glinting with mischief that made his skin prick.

  "However…" she purred, dragging the word out like it tasted sweet, "I wouldn't mind if the roles were reversed later."

  Austin's brain shorted for half a second.

  Heat climbed into his face again—fast, unfair, and very much not helped by the fact that the staircase was narrow enough that her shoulder brushed his as they walked. His smile curled up before he could stop it, the reaction betraying him completely.

  Her ability to flip from serious to seductive is actually terrifying… and kind of impressive.

  Selene resumed her pace, still holding his arm like she owned the right to steer him, and Austin followed, because his body apparently enjoyed being manhandled by a noble healer with a dangerous grin.

  They descended deeper.

  The shadows thickened as the stairwell spiraled down, swallowing more light with every step. The chirping grew louder—closer now—joined by another sound: the faint, rhythmic whump of wings beating somewhere beyond the stone. Not constant, but frequent enough to make Austin imagine silhouettes shifting in the dark, restless and hungry.

  The air smelled stronger down here, sharp with animal musk and something metallic that made his tongue feel like it had a film on it.

  Austin's grip tightened on his weapon.

  His mind couldn't help wandering back to the moment Selene backhanded that idiot so hard he flew. The sound. The way the guy's body had hit stone.

  He pictured a Red Hawk—whatever it was—getting the same treatment.

  A bird monster launching across the cavern like a thrown sack of feathers.

  Austin felt a small, almost wicked grin creep onto his face.

  If Selene backhands one of these things the way she did that guy… this second floor is going to get real interesting.

  He looked down into the darkness below, into the place where the wingbeats echoed and the chirps rose like a chorus.

  Then he glanced at Selene beside him—calm, excited, dangerously confident—and tightened his jaw.

  Whatever waited at the bottom of these stairs, they weren't going down there to get pushed around.

  They were going down there to take space. To grow. To prove something—maybe to the dungeon, maybe to the world, maybe to themselves.

  And as the stairway turned again and the shadows swallowed them further, the sound of beating wings grew louder, like the second floor was waking up to greet them.

  ***

  Austin took the last step off the staircase and onto the second floor—and the dungeon hit him in the face.

  Literally.

  A wave of heavy, wet warmth slammed into him like someone had thrown a steaming towel over his head and held it there. The air wasn't just humid. It was thick. It clung to his skin immediately, soaking into his clothes, filling his lungs with a damp heat that made each breath feel bigger and heavier than it should've been.

  Austin blinked hard, feeling sweat already start to bead at his temples. The back of his neck went slick in seconds.

  "Damn…" he muttered, lifting a hand to fan himself as if that could actually do anything. "I miss the cold cave air already."

  Behind him, the staircase gaped like an exit to sanity. For a heartbeat he almost considered stepping back up just to feel the cooler air again—like dipping your head under cold water after standing too close to a fire.

  But Selene was beside him, calm as ever, and the second floor stretched ahead like the inside of something alive.

  It wasn't stone.

  Not really.

  Instead of rough gray walls and dripping rock, the entire place looked like it had been built inside a colossal tree. Thick wooden walls rose around them, dark and ridged, woven together like braided trunks and branches fused into one massive structure. The grain ran in twisted spirals, and the scent of sap and damp bark hung in the air, almost sweet beneath the musty heat.

  High above, huge gaps broke through the wooden walls—openings that resembled windows carved into a hollow tree. The gaps weren't small, either. They were wide enough that even from the floor, Austin could tell something with wings could dive through them without slowing down.

  The perfect hawk highways, he thought grimly, tilting his head back until his neck protested. He could imagine it already—something red and fast dropping out of the dark, talons first, like a living arrow.

  Out loud, he said, "I will definitely miss the cool of the first floor."

  Selene hummed beside him as if he'd commented on the weather. "You can always take off your clothes to cool off," she suggested, her grin turning sly. "I wouldn't mind seeing those strong arms of yours."

  Austin snorted, refusing to give her the satisfaction of looking flustered even though the heat and her voice were working together against him. "And risk getting pecked where I'd rather not? Yeah, hard pass."

  He tapped his temple with the handle of his sword, eyes still scanning upward. "Though I do kinda wish I had a helmet if these hawks come from above…"

  Selene waved the idea away with a carefree flick of her fingers. "There's no need to worry. They can aim for your head—yes—but they also attack the rest of your body too."

  Austin stared at her.

  "...Somehow," he said slowly, "that's not comforting."

  "This way, my love," Selene chimed, completely ignoring his tone as she grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward. Her touch was warm—almost hotter than the air itself—and she moved with the bright eagerness of someone walking into a party instead of a monster-filled floor. "Let's hurry and find our first group of hawks so you can start using your intellectual magic."

  Austin let himself be dragged, boots scuffing on the wooden floor. The ground here wasn't slick stone—it had the faint give of old wood, tough but not rigid, like walking on the inside of a ship. "Ha. There's no magic involved," he said, though he was smiling despite himself. "I'm just observing their attack patterns."

  Selene giggled, and the sound had a way of cutting through the oppressive atmosphere. It was also very clear she was going to call it magic whether he liked it or not.

  As they walked deeper, Austin noticed something else: the layout felt different.

  The first floor had been a maze of branching paths and open chambers—places you could maneuver, regroup, breathe. This floor felt tighter. More controlled. The corridors twisted around the wooden interior like a giant spiral, with fewer side paths and fewer wide areas.

  It felt like the dungeon was funneling them.

  "The layout changes as you go down," Selene said, noticing his glance. "Most of the second floor will look like this—long paths, tighter spaces, fewer wide areas."

  Austin nodded, his eyes sweeping ahead. The corridor curved, then curved again, the walls rising high enough that he couldn't easily see the ceiling. Above, the gaps in the wood let in pale dungeon light and, occasionally, the faint flicker of movement—shadows darting past like something circling.

  They passed a couple of adventuring groups. Most of them kept their distance, faces set and sweaty in the heat. Nobody tried to block them. Nobody tried to be clever.

  Thank god, Austin thought, because I'm not sure I can handle another Zondick situation without losing it.

  Then they passed academy students.

  Austin recognized them immediately by their matching green uniforms—cleaner than most dungeon gear, tailored to look sharp even in this damp furnace of a floor. A few of the students spotted Selene and reacted like someone had thrown a rock into a pond.

  Whispers rippled through them.

  "Is that her?"

  "Who's the guy next to her?"

  "Why is she holding his arm?"

  "Is he her suiter—?"

  "He's kinda cute though—"

  Austin's ears burned. He pretended he didn't hear, but in a corridor this tight, words traveled. The humidity made everything feel closer, including attention.

  A few bolder students—also wearing green—started to drift toward them, curiosity written all over their faces.

  Selene didn't slow.

  She simply turned her head and looked at them.

  It wasn't even a glare. It was… a stare. Calm. Direct. Unmoved. The kind of look that said, Try it and I will ruin you without raising my voice.

  The students immediately veered away like they'd remembered an urgent appointment somewhere else.

  Austin's eyebrows rose. "Wow."

  Selene flipped her hair, utterly composed. "Don't pay them any mind," she said. "Most academy students train on higher floors to raise their main stats outside class with other students. But I'll make sure none of them bother us while we train."

  "Got it," Austin said, adjusting his grip on his sword as the corridor continued to wind. Sweat trickled down his ribs beneath the underlayer, and the warm dampness made his skin itch. "So… are all the students in green part of your—well—former clan?"

  "Not exactly," Selene replied. "People wearing green represent the Elandros region, but that doesn't mean they belong to the Elandros Clan." Her tone was light, but there was something sharp beneath it whenever she mentioned her family. "My father only chooses the best candidates to carry the Elandros name. And only a small handful of those candidates are assigned to my team at the academy. The rest simply did not impress him."

  Austin let out a low whistle. "Dang. Your dad sounds pretty cutthroat."

  "Very," Selene said without hesitation, as if that single word held years of experience.

  They walked on.

  Austin found himself scanning faces, half expecting to see Lira and her party somewhere—especially on a floor like this, where stronger students might train. But he didn't spot them. Most of the uniforms he saw weren't red like Lira's group. Or if they were, they looked older—taller, broader, more seasoned. Different year. Different class.

  As the corridor stretched, the noise of other adventurers faded behind them. Footsteps grew scarce. Voices disappeared. The heat remained, oppressive and constant, but something else slid in as well—an uneasy stillness.

  Above them, somewhere high in the wooden gaps, there was the faint rustle of feathers.

  A soft whump.

  Another.

  Austin's shoulders tightened without his permission.

  Selene guided them around a set of enormous tree-like pillars—massive supports rising into darkness—and then the corridor opened up into a wider clearing.

  The space was taller here. More open.

  And it was full of eyes.

  Red Hawks perched along thick wooden branches that jutted from the walls and ceiling, their bodies crouched like coiled springs. Others flitted through the air in tight circles, wings beating so fast they blurred—too fast for something that size. Their feathers were a blazing crimson, so vivid it looked like fire caught in plumage. Even in the dim dungeon lighting, they seemed to glow.

  And their eyes—sharp, focused, predatory—tracked Austin the moment he stepped into the open.

  He felt it like pressure.

  Like he'd walked into a room full of weapons pointed at him.

  "Damn, son," Austin whispered before he could stop himself. "Those are some oversized hawks."

  One of the birds shifted, talons scraping wood with a faint click. Another flared its wings, and the sound was like someone snapping a leather cloak open.

  Austin watched one dart through a hole in the wooden wall like a feathered missile—gone in a blink, then back through another opening, circling fast enough to make his eyes struggle to follow.

  "Okay," he muttered, throat tight, "that's… honestly kind of scary."

  Selene stood beside him, perfectly at ease, as if she were watching birds in a garden.

  Austin unsheathed his sword. The metal whispered free, and the familiar weight steadied him, grounding him in reality. "So," he said, keeping his voice low, "got any suggestions before I start?"

  Selene tapped her lips thoughtfully, eyes narrowing as she watched the hawks' movements. "Hmmmm… Well, back in the dungeon where I'm from, most adventurers just cover their heads, swing their swords, or blast magic and hope for the best."

  Austin stared.

  "…Well that's pretty helpful," he said dryly.