Adeline didn’t know why she felt such overwhelming fear. Ever since she sensed the energy of the dungeon, she had been gripped by an inexplicable dread, something strangely familiar yet terrifying. A familiar fear, a learned terror. She pressed down on her heart, which was racing as if about to burst, and took a shallow breath. The malevolent energy of dark magic wrapped around her entire body. All she could do was cling to whatever she could hold onto, bracing herself against the onslaught of suppressed memories threatening to resurface.

“Who…are…”

Someone was holding her tightly. She had felt this touch somewhere before, but Adeline couldn’t recall who it belonged to. All she could do was hope that this hand wouldn’t let go, that it would anchor her as she drifted through pain and fear. Adeline clung to that hand, curling herself tighter.

Her sharpened senses absorbed everything about the dungeon: the air thick with dark magic, the stench, and the sinister aura. She was acutely aware of it all, unable even to resent her heightened senses as broken fragments of memories began surfacing, piece by piece.

“Such insolent eyes. I don’t quite like them.”

Whose voice was that?

The voice was eerily familiar—so warm, yet at the same time so cold it chilled her to the bone, making her tremble with fear. The sensation crawled up her legs, her body, and gripped her neck, forcing her to relive the sealed memories. It couldn’t be, yet Adeline knew who it was and repeatedly denied it.

Count Benning couldn’t possibly say such things. She kept repeating that to herself.

“Let’s see if you can continue looking at the world with those eyes.”

The pain from the memory became real, engulfing Adeline. Her eyes burned as if they were on fire. It was like someone was pouring boiling water into her eyes or searing them with a red-hot poker.

This wasn’t merely physical pain. It burrowed deep into her bones, etching itself into her very soul.

“Obey my words.” “Kill the enemy.” “Become my puppet.”

“Agh… pain…”

She let out a faint sound without realizing it. The hand that had been holding her tightly was now pulling away. Desperately, she clung to the retreating hand, words trapped in her mouth that she couldn’t utter: Don’t leave. Don’t go.

“No…no…”

The hand was gone. In its place, a blend of cold and sinister energy enveloped Adeline. A familiar stench wafted up, a smell she knew all too well.

“You lost to me.” “Now, serve me, with those blinded eyes, focused only on me.”

Memories and pain she wished would remain buried seemed to slice through her. But amidst this nightmare, a different voice pushed its way into her consciousness.

“Adeline.”

The storm of memories began to calm. Slowly, the terrible voice and the excruciating pain were covered over by a new sensation. Something was covering her eyes again, and she felt a hand wrapping gently around her trembling face. The flood of memories stopped. Adeline was left in a void, a darkness that felt empty. In that darkness, she heard another voice, one she had heard before.

“Sorry. Just wait a little longer.”

Adeline felt the hand leave her, but the memories didn’t flood back. She drifted through the sea of consciousness like a fishing boat leaving behind a storm.

Then, she heard something else. Adeline’s consciousness latched onto the sound, like a lighthouse guiding her forward.

The sound of a sword striking something, the labored breathing of a knight deep in battle, the scuffing sound of footsteps on the floor, the sharp slicing of a blade cutting through the air. The feeling of murderous intent permeated the air.

The sounds her senses absorbed became weapons to fight against the monster that was her memory. Every time she heard Arsen’s sword cut through the air, the agony lessened, leaving a void where the monster had been. It was unclear if this emptiness had always existed or if the monster had devoured something that used to be there.

Unconsciously, Adeline found her breath. The stench of rotting corpses reached her nose. Oddly, it was almost a relief. The more intense the sensation, the faster her mind returned. Her consciousness surfaced like a fish caught on a line. She realized she was gripping the hilt of her sword. As her right hand slowly regained its awareness, her consciousness spread through her entire body.

“Ha…”

Taking hold of her raging senses, Adeline began to take stock of her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the familiar presence of a knight standing in the middle of the stinking space filled with the odor of death. With her still half-drifting consciousness, Adeline called out the knight’s name.

“Arsen.”

Muttering the name that still felt strange on her tongue, she heard his footsteps approach. The sound was grotesque, more like flesh being trampled than boots on stone. His presence was close, and before she could speak, she heard his voice.

“Are you alright?”

His voice wasn’t trembling, but it was heavy with fatigue. It seemed he wasn’t injured. Adeline straightened herself by leaning on her sword. She never thought she’d be grateful to hear that voice.

“…Yes.”

“Hearing your voice, you don’t seem entirely fine. But it’s a relief that you seem to have regained your senses.”

Only then did Adeline realize that all the sensations she’d experienced, the comforting presence enveloping her, were all thanks to Arsen. It was a strange feeling. She brushed aside the nagging doubt and asked Arsen a question.

“…What happened?”

There was a dull thud as Arsen sat down heavily. For a moment, Adeline tensed, thinking he had collapsed, but his voice soon followed.

“As you may have noticed, we’ve entered the dungeon. After knocking out that mage, I sensed someone trying to enter the room.”

“…”

“I tried to go back out the entrance we came through, but it wouldn’t open. I’m currently looking for another way out of this dungeon.”

Plus, if we’re lucky, we might find that research data as well.

Arsen added that last part as an afterthought. Adeline finally asked about the stench that had been assaulting her nose.

“There was a fight, wasn’t there?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. This is what dungeons are like. I only had to deal with a few synthetic monsters.”

He said it so casually, but Adeline knew the creatures he’d fought were more than just a “few.” The overwhelming stench of rotting bodies filled the space, proving as much. Why had he taken such a risk to fight them all? He could have just left them and escaped without dealing with those creatures.

In the end, Arsen had protected her. Adeline closed her mouth, lost in thought.

She didn’t understand why Arsen hadn’t abandoned her, why he had stayed to protect her. But at the same time, she felt it wasn’t something she should ask. Her mind was still too cluttered, the pain that had pierced her eyes and the voice that still commanded her.

“It smells too foul here to just sit around. Shall we move?”

Arsen’s voice called her. Adeline lifted her head.

“Can you stand?”

The hand wasn’t visible, but Adeline could sense Arsen hesitantly offering her his hand.

For some reason, it felt as if this had happened a long time ago.

Normally, she would have ignored the hand and used her sword to prop herself up, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to reject it.

Cautiously, she reached out and grasped Arsen’s hand. Though unfamiliar, the touch was imprinted firmly in her mind. With his support, she stood. As soon as she was on her feet, Arsen began explaining the layout of the space.

“There are three doors ahead of us. There are two staircases on either side leading downward. The monsters came from the left staircase.”

Nodding, Adeline expanded her senses. She could tell there were no traps left. The subtle airflow, previously masked by the stench, brushed against her cheek.

“There are no traps. Judging by the airflow, I think going down the left staircase might lead us to another exit.”

Arsen’s hand slipped away from hers. For a moment, she flexed her fingers in the sudden emptiness, then reached for her sword to hide the movement.

“Let’s check the doors.”

When she raised an eyebrow, Arsen shrugged.

“Since we’re here, we might as well search for clues while looking for an exit. This place is illegal by its very nature; even if we wreak havoc, they won’t be able to openly protest about it.”

Arsen’s voice was tinged with a strange excitement, as if he was bent on causing as much trouble as possible. Adeline couldn’t help but sigh.

“Understood. I don’t know how much time has passed, but it would be best if we could escape before morning.”

“Of course. I’ve kept that in mind.”

Arsen moved forward, and Adeline followed his presence. As soon as she stepped, her ankle brushed against something wet and heavy—a mass of flesh. They crushed the flesh underfoot as they reached the door at the far end of the space.

Arsen ran his hand over the door handle, his brows furrowing. He found it suspicious that there was nothing out of place. He glanced back at Adeline. Her expression was tense from having waded through the flesh-strewn floor.

Arsen looked at Adeline, her cursed eyes, her seemingly unaware demeanor. Should he tell her? He bit down on his lip. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he thought, I should tell her that she’s cursed, that she’s being deceived by the Count, that the blade she wields should be aimed at his neck.

“This is the door on the left.”

But he couldn’t. Not now. They had to escape this cursed dungeon and find the clue about Christine first. He clenched his teeth again.

“Do you sense anything?”

At his question, Adeline shook her head.

“No. Perhaps this space is the least affected by the dungeon’s influence.”

“You mean all three doors lead to similar spaces?”

Adeline nodded. Arsen gripped the door handle, staring down. If this room was indeed a research area, they likely wouldn’t have installed any magical traps. They wouldn’t want to risk damaging their research materials.

“I’m opening it. Just in case…”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Only after confirming that Adeline was prepared did Arsen twist the handle and push open the door. The musty stench of mold and dust wafted out, quickly overtaken by the stench of death. The room was surprisingly plain.

“…It really is just a research room.”

A desk, a chair, a makeshift bed. Papers scattered everywhere, shelves filled with old books. Arsen picked up a piece of paper from the floor, grimacing at the illegible handwriting filled with complex formulas. He placed it back on the desk with a sigh.

“Find anything?”

“It’s clearly a research space, but we’ll need to dig deeper to understand what they were studying…”

Arsen sifted through the papers on the desk. He frowned as he came across words related to dark magic, bio-synthesis, and creature control. The words flashed by like dangerous red flags. He folded the documents and stuffed them into his coat.

“Mostly about bio-synthesis. Nothing else stands out.”

The language on the book covers was one he couldn’t read. He fought the urge to rush. He bit his lip.

“…Let’s check the next room.”

The second room didn’t yield much. It looked like a storage room filled with random items. Arsen sighed as he grabbed the handle of the last door. He had told himself not to be impatient, but he could feel his nerves fraying. He twisted the handle hard, trying to shake off the intrusive thoughts.

“This one…”

It was a room filled with stacks of documents. Arsen looked around the room, much simpler than the first two, yet more enigmatic in purpose.

“What kind of room is it?”

Arsen moved toward the desk stacked with papers, mumbling.

“There are documents. I’ll need to see what they’re about…”

He picked up the top document and flipped it over. The cover read In-Depth Study on Rare Mana Compatibility. Arsen froze as he read the title.

Experimenter: Alain Marco
Test Subject: Christine Watson