Morning came with the smell of mud and woodsmoke. Allen rolled off the thin mattress without waking Seraphina. She had curled onto her side in the night, her silver hair tangled across the pillow, one hand resting where his chest had been. He pulled the blanket over her shoulder and stood. The floor was cold under his bare feet. The room was still dark, but the slum outside was already stirring. He washed his face in the basin and pulled on a clean shirt. The sword stayed in Dominion Cache. No target on his back today. At the door, he looked back. Seraphina's eyes were open. "Go back to sleep," he said. Her eyes blinked twice. 'No.' Allen smiled. "Stubborn." He crossed to the bed and kissed her forehead. "I'll bring bread. Stay quiet." One blink. 'Yes.' The market was already full. Allen moved through the crowd. He stopped at a bread stall. The smell of warm dough hung around it. He focused, and a few copper coins dropped into his palm from Dominion Cache. He paid for 2 loa

The tunnel did not end. Allen stepped over the last Gloomfang corpse and kept walking, his boots pressing dark prints into the wet stone. The gate's blue light was already gone, swallowed by the deep. Maris and Fendrel followed close, their breath loud, their weapons still wet. The air in this part of the dungeon was heavier. Not just cold. Wet. Heavy with the smell of old blood and something green, something rotting. "Boss?" Maris whispered. "Are we close to the boss?" Allen didn't answer. He was listening. Water dripped somewhere ahead, each drop returning a soft echo. That meant the space was large. A chamber. But the echo came back too fast on one side. The right side. The wall there was broken, opening into a wider passage. The corridor split. Allen stopped. Two paths lay before them. The right path was broad, its floor smooth from years of use. The left was narrower, rougher, the stone cracked and uneven. From the right came a sound like something breathing through a throat